Ok so y'all wanted a part two, so here it is!

Sorry that this took so long. I was sort of procrastinating, and didn't get it done until now. Also, since my autocorrect is being an asshole, there's a slight chance that it has corrected "Laf" to "Lag". So I guess ya french boys named Lag now. :P

And I made up Cherry Hill because I am too goddamn lazy to do historical research
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"Damn it Laf, where's my pistol-"

You rummaged through the leather sack, muttering curses under your breath. The two of you had set up camp in a local tavern, a small room the only available residence left.

"Where you always keep it, mon amour."  Laf responded, his hands busily sculpting a ponytail out of a bush of frizzy hair. You rolled your eyes and let out a small huff. Turning back to your bag, you rummaged around until you found a spare pistol. Stuffing it in your waistband, you slung the bag over your shoulder.

"Why are you in such a hurry, mademoiselle?" You felt your body stiffen as Lafayette wound his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You laughed and pushed him away, but secretly you wished you could stay locked in his arms forever.

"Well, there are a lot of reasons-"

"Shhh! Get down!"

You dropped to the floor, you elbows wailing in pain as they collided with the wood. Lafayette was already at the window, his eyes set just above the peeling windowsill.

"Regulars." He whispered spitefully. Keeping his back to you, he motioned for you to grab the bags. "Quickly, mom amour. Those ânes will be too stupid to notice we're gone if you hurry."

Without hesitation, you immediately grabbed Laf and your bags, slinging the rawhide straps over your shoulder. Adrenaline, like fire galloping over a field, coursed through your blood. You and the Marquis were not new to the idea of a British raid, but knew that any kind of red-coated man meant a higher chance of catching a bullet in your chest. As you adjusted the bags, a small, snowy corner peeked out from the latched flap.

The letter.

Laf was still focused on watching the soldiers, his back facing you. In a heartbeat, you had pinched the letter, drawing out of your bag, and finding it a new home tucked in your pocket.  A pang of guilt rang in your chest, but was soon quenched by the flood of fear and surprise as Laf grabbed your arm.

"Are they gone yet?" You asked, noting the intense look in his eyes.

"Coming up the stairs right now, actually," Laf mumbled. He strode back towards the window, his fingers moving over the dull lock. A small click announced the latch's opening. Lafayette threw open the window, straddling the sill as it swung towards the east.

"Vhat?" He laughed as he saw your face, jaw wide with surprise. You shook your head silently, warning him not to go through with whatever plan he had concocted.

"It's not gonna work." You said, amusement seeping into your voice. "People will see you. I doubt the-"

BANG! BANG!

"Ok, so maybe the window would be-OOF!"

One minute your feet were safely rooted to the floor, and the next they were dangling perilously in the air.

"SHI-"

Though your hand clasped his tightly, the sweat between your palms slowly loosened your grip. The whistle of air and a pained cry was the last thing that reached your ears before your heat hit the ground, stealing the light from your eyes.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Y/N, does your head still hurt? Are you-"

"Why are you asking me? You're the one who got shot!"

Laf laughed bitterly, lightly grasping the bandaged wound. Silence filled the void between the two of you, flooding the crisp night air. You breathed a small sigh of relief, knowing that the redcoats were far behind you and Lafayette.

The letter.

Lafayette was half-asleep, so you knew he wouldn't notice you slipping the paper out of your pocket. You did just that, running your thumb over the crinkled parchment. Quickly, you tore open the top, the satisfying riiiip sending a chill down your spine. Taking one last look at your friend, you slipped the letter from the envelope, anticipation tingling in your worn fingertips. The paper was folded neatly in half, something you'd never seen before. Usually the general was in such a hurry that the folded paper would be awkwardly doubled over, the corners unevenly matched. As your eyes swept the now-unfolded letter, you choked back a gasp of surprise.

Dear Lafayette,
The General wants you to go accompanied on this assignment, as taking orders to Boston can be quite difficult alone. However, the man who he recommended, (That bastard Charles Lee), I feel would not be suitable for your arrangement. I, as a good friend of yours, have noticed your attraction to a certain lady that happens to be in our regiment. This is why I have reassigned her to you, and instead gave Lee a small minuteman group to command, as his Excellency wants to start reclaiming Cherry Hill by next week.

Good Luck,
Alexander Hamilton

A small squeak escaped your lips, followed by a series of excited spasms. Was Lafayette really... attracted to you?

There was only one way to find out.

"Lafayette?"

The man stirred, lifting his arms as he yawned. His brown eyes turned to you, only half-visible due to his drooping eyelids.

"Mom amour, I think that's the first time you called me by my actual name." He smiled, flashing his snow-white teeth. "Shall we celebrate?" Before you could respond, his eyes had wandered down to the thin paper you had clutched close to your stomach. His face suddenly drops, and he snatches the letter from your hands.

"Hey!" You lunged forward, your body colliding with his. The blow knocks Laf to the ground, placing you awkwardly on top of him. Blush seeped into your cheeks, and you prayed that Laf wouldn't notice.

"You read the letter, didn't you..." Laf trailed off, his voice sounding pained and hinted with embarrassment. You nodded, earning a small merde from him.

"I-I..." You stammered, your voice hindered by the sudden rush of embarrassment. You were both still in the same position, adding another layer pound to the already heavy awkwardness that pressed upon you.

"I'm sorry if this made you uncomfortable, I just..." Laf sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"It's not that uncomfortable..." You felt something tugging at the ends of your lips, drawing your mouth into a smile. Laf followed suit, letting out a small chuckle.

"So, you still want to stay?"

"Obviously! Can't your French ass see-"

Laf closed the space between your lips, ending your sentence before you could utter another word. After a few pauses, he pulled away, his eyes locked with yours.

"I say we burn the letter."

"Agreed."