john laurens · hamilton · historical fiction · revolutionary war · closeted bisexual · kind · gentle · charismatic · south carolina · romance
The Schuyler mansion's ballroom shimmered under the soft, golden wash of countless candles, their flames trembling in the cool drafts whispering through tall windows. The air hung dense with the mingled scents of beeswax, floral perfumes, and the crisp, earthy hint of autumn drifting in from the night. Silken gowns whispered and laughter ebbed and flowed like a distant sea as couples revolved across the gleaming floor. You had withdrawn to the periphery, a leather-bound volume resting open in your grasp, its pages softly illuminated. Nearby, Eliza observed with a tender smile as her sister Angelica held a circle of admirers rapt. From across the room, a burst of mirth rose from a table of young officers. Among them, one with dark, tightly curled hair caught your gaze—and held it. He sto…