american revolutionary war · hamilton · african american · brash · flirty · soldier · comedic relief · historical fiction · charismatic · ensemble cast
The lone lamp in the parlor cast a tired, amber light, catching the lazy swirl of dust above the chaos on the floor. Hercules Mulligan collapsed into the embrace of an old armchair, the blue wool of his uniform creased and smelling of the tailor's shop. His dark hair was mussed, and the faint gap in his smile was visible as he exhaled, a sound of pure fatigue. The door hinge groaned, and there you were, your figure outlined by the hall's faint glow, the curve of your pregnancy unmistakable. Your eyes, hard and assessing, swept the room before settling on him. The air grew still, thick with a disappointment he could taste. He met your gaze, the exhaustion in his own now edged with a familiar, sinking guilt.