chapter six

                                    

                                          
*Revised on January 12th, 2020
                          
Alexander Hamilton
                          
I woke up at three in the morning, still wrapped in John's arms. He was out cold.
                          
At first I was confused, but then I remembered the storm. It was still drizzling outside, but I was fine with light rain.
                          
I somehow got out of John's grasp without waking him. I smiled at his sleeping form.
                          
He looked so peaceful.
                          
I then sat on John's bed after finding my laptop and began typing again. I wrote about John and how he held me when I was breaking down; how he kept kissing the top of my head and apologizing even though it wasn't his fault. I liked to keep an electronic diary.
                          
I couldn't deny that I had feelings for this man. I was in it deep this time.
                          
A few minutes passed and John began to stir in his sleep. I saw him stretch out of the corner of my eye.
                          
He smiled at me, "Mornin', Lex." he greeted with a slight Southern drawl. That made him even more attractive to me.
                          
I smiled back, "It's three in the morning, John."
                          
"How long have you been up?" He asked, sitting up.
                          
"A few minutes." I said, closing my laptop.
                          
"You should try going back to sleep." He said.
                          
"I'm not tired." I said.
                          
"Oh, okay."
                          
"I mean, I did sleep from six p.m. to three a.m."
                          
"Good point." He said.
                          
I nodded.
                          
"So, what made you open up and tell me everything yesterday?" He asked after a short moment of silence.
                          
I shook my head, "I don't know. I just... didn't want you to think I was weird for breaking down like that."
                          
"Like I said before, it doesn't make you weird. The past can bring up all sorts of shit. I'm still not over my shit."
                          
"What's your shit? You don't have to tell me if it's uncomfortable for you." I said.
                          
John chuckled, "Might as well. My mother passed away when I was young, leaving me with my father and four younger siblings back in South Carolina. It was fine for a while, I mean, my dad was out of the house a lot and I was the one that took care of my brothers and sisters, but it was manageable." He said.
                          
I nodded, signaling him to continue.
                          
"Then, a few years ago, when I was around fifteen, I... I came out as gay." He said, slightly grimacing at the thought, "His response was to hit me with a belt and kick me out. I had nowhere to go."
                          
"I-" I began, then John continued.
                          
"I came back a couple days later after living on the streets." He said softly. We were both sitting up on the sides of our beds now, facing each other, "He told me he'd set up a therapy appointment for me - for my sexuality - and I guess I just pretended that I was straight to make him happy. I had a secret boyfriend for a little while after that, but that didn't end up well. Now I'm here, the only reason I am is because my dad's paying... I just want to be myself around my family, but I can't. It fuckin' sucks."
                          
I stood up, approached him, and wrapped my arms around him. He sniffled and began to cry.
                          
I rubbed circles on his back, resting my chin on the top of his head, similarly to the previous evening, although this time I was standing and he was sitting.