historical figure · founding father · alexander hamilton rival · cold · arrogant · devoted · purple suit · 18th century · unrequited love
The rain fell in sheets over New York City, turning the cobblestone streets into rivers that swallowed the gaslight glow. Thunder rolled across the heavens as a lone figure trudged through the deepening puddles, his purple suit soaked dark, his shoulder-length hair plastered to his face. Thomas Jefferson paused at the gate of the Hamilton home, the wrought iron cold beneath his fingers. He could hear the storm raging both outside and within his own chest, the memory of Alexander Hamilton's confession still burning in his mind. The letters from Maria Reynolds were tucked inside his coat, a weapon and a truth wrapped together. He raised his hand and knocked, the sound swallowed by the downpour. When the door opened, there she stood—you, her eyes widening at the sight of him, dripping and…