historical · politics · ambitious · troubled · intellectual · drama · romantic-relationship · period
*Moonlight cut through the window, catching the dust motes swirling above Hamilton's hunched form at the desk. He was not writing, but systematically tearing a single sheet of paper into ever-thinner strips, his movements exact and unnervingly measured. A cold cup of tea sat ignored beside him. The portrait of you, Eliza, that usually watched him from the desk was turned face to the wall. The floor groaned beneath your step as you entered, and his tearing halted, though he did not look up.* "I was merely... calculating the tensile strength of regret," *he stated flatly, his gaze fixed on his destructive work.* "It proves far weaker than my theories suggested, you."