Work Text:
During the night, the only audible thing was the swift movement of Alexander’s pen upon the paper, and the only source of light was the lonely, lit candle on his desk.
During the day, the sound of him scribbling down his ideas and writing down essays upon essays went unnoticed, but during the night, the sound of it resonated throughout the whole estate, and only when the secretary went to bed, did the house completely go quiet, and only then did all the lights go out.
But the house never truly went quiet or plunged into darkness, and very few were the moments when Alexander finally put down his pen, blew his candle out, and obeyed his dear wife, who had to spend a good half an hour arguing and begging her husband to join her in their shared bed.
To Eliza, without Alexander, the bed seemed empty and meaningless, and she always found herself unable to fall asleep when the spot next to her was left untouched and cold- Of course, as the years went by, and Alexander had left to fight under George Washington’s command, Eliza had to learn to live with her husband’s absence, but not without fear, because on any day, at any minute or even second, a gun could release a bullet that was meant to end Alexander Hamilton’s life. That fact terrified her, so she would pray morning and night for Alexander to come back home alive- To have her dear husband working in the dining room downstairs.
Every letter sent to Harlem with Eliza’s name on it always brought her some kind of small hope that Alexander could still be alive and well, but also that he might be dead and that this was a letter of condolences from her husband’s commander. The announcement of Laurens’ death had come to them so unexpectedly, throughout a letter that his best friend’s father had sent to Alexander, that it had come as a huge shock to Alexander, who needed a few days to take the news in, until inevitably having to go back to work.
After those news were spread, their home was plunged in a quiet and somber mourning for a few days- But of course, life went on, and so did Eliza and Alexander, despite their minds still wrapped up in the recent events.
That event had stuck with Eliza and she prayed that such a thing would never happen to her or to any close friend of hers ever again.
But nonetheless, she did not regret this turn of events, no matter how gruesome it had been, as this served as a warning to Eliza that she had to be ready at any moment of the day, of the night for this type of situation, and that she had to spend as much time as possible with her close ones before it was too late.
Whenever a letter was sent to her, its opening was always made in Eliza’s room, away from anyone from the outside world. Surrounding her was a tense atmosphere, but as soon as the letter was unfolded, and Eliza discovered her husband’s peculiar writing, and the familiar ‘My dearest Eliza’ at the top of the letter, the tense atmosphere that weighed on her was lifted, now replaced with a peaceful and hopeful ambience as a new hope found itself in her heart- that her husband might be soon enough present in her bed with her, smiling at her and looking at her with those eyes of his.
And now, this dream of hers had finally come true.
Alexander was home with her and Philip, and Angelica had also come to visit her sister before they left to see their father, Philip Schuyler.
Suddenly, the house didn’t feel so empty and cold anymore. The house was filled with joy and laughter, and even Alexander would sometimes join in on the sisters’ walks around the prairies and converse with them like they used to at the Winter’s Ball, as well as assist his son’s small piano concerts. He would always gladly listen to his son practice the piano and his French whenever Alexander worked. Philip played the piano quite well for his age, and Alexander couldn’t have been prouder to listen to him play soothing melodies while he wrote at his desk.
But even so, the bed next to Eliza was left cold and empty, unlike the house she had gotten with Alexander after their wedding.
Alexander would come to sleep very late, or very early in the morning, and by then, his wife had already fallen asleep, and when she woke up, her husband was already at his desk writing.
But sometimes, even working halfway throughout the night wasn’t enough for Alexander, and he would disregard sleep completely, spending all-nighters writing pages upon pages of essays.
~~~~~~~~~~ • ~~~~~~~~~~
Head rested against his cold palm, Alexander spontaneously followed the swift movements of his pen upon the yellowish paper in front of him, as he wrote down the ideas that jolted in his mind before he’d forget them- He would further delve into them in the morning.
The dining room was a quiet, and often warm place, but tonight, the air was cold and bitter.
In front of Alexander was a set of two old windows open wide, which offered a view of the paved street Eliza and Philip would often cross, hand in hand, their laughter and banter filling the usually melancholic and quiet road. Whenever they passed by, the world seemed so much brighter and happier, and Alexander would mindlessly smile at the joy and hope his wife and child spread around the small town.
The open windows, which were usually open during hot summer nights, let in tonight, a glacial wind that enveloped Alexander from top to bottom, sending chills down his spine. And the way the curtains consistently dangled along with the wind left and right, was enough to distract Alexander from his work, but luckily, his conscience would always take the best of him and make him turn his attention back to the paper.
Unfortunately, the room had grown colder, to the point where Alexander was freezing on the spot, and he couldn’t even move his limbs anymore. The secretary finally took his eyes off his paper, to glance at the open windows, glaring at them like the awful distractions that they were- To him, their only purpose was to slow down his work. If these windows were closed, he wouldn’t have this problem and wouldn’t have to worry about wasting his time getting up from his desk to close these filthy windows.
‘But, maybe I really should close them... It’s getting really cold in here... No, no- The Congress. I have to get my plan through Congress.’
To be fair, did it even matter if he was cold? So what if he’d catch a cold the next day? He’d still be able to work, he’d still be able to work on his plan for Congress.
Work. Work was all that mattered. In the moment, nothing could stop him from getting his work done.
His pen was his friend, his guide, the item that was going to help him rise up his station- If he didn’t write down his thoughts now, if he didn’t rise up from his station now, when would he ever have the time to do it?
Quick, quick. Alexander immersed himself back into his thoughts, his pen going back to scribbling ideas onto the paper- Quick, if he didn’t transpose them onto paper now, his ideas would fly away, disappearing behind and he’ll never have the time to write them all down before it was too late.
Quick quick- Move faster, pen. Write down your ideas down before it’s too late.
Focus on your plan, focus on the Congress, before it’s too late-
“Alexander?”
The familiar and frill voice of his dear wife behind him pierced the bubble Alexander had created around him and snatched him away from his thoughts, that seemed to have already begun to take flight, and were slowly evaporating before his own eyes.
But Eliza didn’t realize that. The only thing that mattered to her was her husband’s health- If he kept doing all-nighters so often, one day, Eliza would be certain that she’d find her husband pass out, out of pure fatigue. Seeing her husband working so hard into the night broke her heart- Why did he always have to write like he was running out of time? If only she knew what was going on inside his brain, if only she could understand the challenges Alexander was facing, perhaps this would’ve made things simpler to understand... Ah, if only!
All she could do to ease her husband’s burden was to come see him each night, without fail, and try to convince him to take a break with her- even a small one. But it was a difficult task. Alexander was so stubborn, and never allowed himself to truly discuss his worries and fears with his wife... If only he would let her grant him peace of mind. If only he would let her inside his heart... If only!
Alexander continued to scribble down the remaining of his ideas on the half filled piece of paper, until even the smallest blanks were filled- Trying his best to retrieve some of his ideas before they were out of reach.
“Alexander,” Eliza repeated, the tone in her voice more demanding and harsh- despite the true meaning behind it.
Alexander did not respond. His focus and attention were completely driven towards the parchment in front of him.
Footsteps approached him, steady and calm, and two warm hands rested upon Alexander’s shoulders, injecting him with a warm, fuzzy feeling that Alexander had secretly longed to obtain- this feeling could only come from his wife, and her alone.
”Alexander, come back to sleep,” Eliza softly begged, “It’s midnight,” she continued, grazing the contours of her husband’s face with her slim fingers. Everywhere they went, they left a subtle trail of warmness on his face. He had never craved for his wife’s warm touch so much until this moment. Only now did he realize how empty and cold this room truly was before her arrival.
“I’m almost done.”
“Alexander, please-“
“Just a few more minutes.”
Eliza’s hand started to stroke her husband’s cheek- Slow strokes these were. Slow and warm strokes that Eliza gave him whenever he felt tense. Alexander wished he could just rest his head on her hand and trap her hand between his face and shoulder, so he could keep her warmth to himself for ever. It was a greedy wish, but a wish that couldn’t be left unnoticed.
Catching his wife’s smaller hand in its act, Alexander took ahold of it with his inactive one, but as soon as he did, he immediately regretted his action, because Eliza was quick to let out a short gasp and swiftly retrieve her hand away from her husband’s grasp.
“Your hand is as cold as ice! And how come it’s so cold in here...” Eliza wondered, rubbing her hands together, as she glanced around the dark, dining room, which was simply lit by Alexander’s candle, set on the corner of his desk. Its small flame was the only source of warmness and light for the fatigued secretary.
“I didn’t bother to close the windows,” he explained, a hint of shame in his voice, looking down at his paper, despite not writing anything on it.
Eliza let out an exasperated sigh, as she speedily walked towards the windows.
“It’s cold enough in here as it is. I don’t think opening the windows was a good idea,” Eliza commented under her breath, letting out a low groan, mustering all of her strength she needed to close off the windows- They were starting to get rusty.
Eliza would have to solve that soon, but with all the work that had to be done around the house, she had a hard time keeping track of everything- Alexander would sometimes offer his aid, but he was anti talent when it came to such things, so Eliza never bothered to ask him for his help, and Philip was too young to really do anything. Luckily, whenever Angelica visited them, Eliza would never turn down her older sister’s aid when it came to doing chores around the house. Angelica was her like lifesaver in that regard.
Turning around, she was about to let the windows alone, but Alexander asked, looking up at his wife, “Don’t you want to close off the curtains?”
“Why would I close off the curtains?”
Catching a glimpse of the croissant moon, whose milky color formed a nice contrast with the dark blue sky, on which were scattered a thousand stars of the same color as the planet, Eliza smiled, resting her head against the ice cold wall, her hand grazing the glass of the window, “The moon is so beautiful. It would be a shame to deprive ourselves of such a sight,” she turned to her husband, “Don’t you think?”
“I... I guess so. I never payed attention to the moon before, but you’re right. It really is beautiful,” Alexander mindlessly replied, spontaneously going back to his work, taking on full control of his pen again, dipping it into ink a few times before putting it down on the parchment, letting it translate his ideas to his heart’s content.
At the sound of Alexander’s pen moving onto the paper, Eliza looked back at her husband who had already seemed to have forgotten that she was even here.
Her eyes then looked up at the moon above her again, as she quietly commented, trying to catch her husband’s attention, “You never truly tire, do you?”
Alexander displayed a tired smile that Eliza did not have the chance to see, “Never.”
Growing lonely, the dark haired Schuyler Sister went back to her husband’s desk, putting down her hands on each side of his table.
“Won’t you join me to bed, Alexander? Please. I am glad to have such a hardworking husband, but even so, sometimes, it can become a bit too overbearing. You don’t know how much I miss having you by my side at night, Alexander. I miss you so much. Please, come with me,” Eliza pleaded, grasping Alexander’s available hand in her own.
“Please, take a break,” Eliza repeated.
“I have to get my plan through Congress- I cant stop till I get my plan through Congress,” Alexander replied, clutching his wife’s hand.
“Alexander, please. Come to sleep with me just this once. It’ll do you some good. Tomorrow, I was planning on showing Angelica around town with Philip- We’ll be out all day. The house will be yours all day, so you’ll be able to work as much as you’ll like, tomorrow.”
Alexander stood quiet for a moment, then for the first time that night, he took the time to look at his wife thoroughly.
Eliza wore a long, white nightgown, with puffy sleeves. Across her waist rested a velvet, blue strip of cloth, neatly tied into a bow in the front. Most of the time, Eliza’s hair was tied in a low ponytail, but this time, her ebony hair was let down.
Her face, which would display a loving, warm smile most of the time, now displayed a worrisome frown.
“It’s not like this that you’ll be able to get some work done.”
His gaze switched between his wife and the parchment, until it finally landed on his tired wife again, “Alright. I will,” he went back to writing. Soon enough, he’d have to switch papers. This one was starting to become full, “Go to bed- I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
His wife did not respond. Pushing her armchair towards Alexander, Eliza collapsed in it, crossed her arms, and stared at Alexander with an impartial stare that somewhat discomforted him.
“... What are you doing?”
“If you think I am falling for that trick again, you are wrong- This time, I’ll wait for you until you’re done.”
“Eliza, you really shouldn’t... You’re tired and-“
“If you can pull all-nighters, then I can too- I’ll wait as long as it’s necessary,” Eliza answered, determination replacing the usual softness of her tone.
Alexander opened his mouth, wishing to reply to her sudden stubbornness, but he quickly closed it back. If he said anything, Eliza would quickly find a comeback, and this useless exchange could go on in an unending cycle- so he put himself back work.
The presence of his wife wasn’t going to stop him from getting his work done.
Perhaps, if he acted normally enough, Alexander might have a slight chance to convince his wife that he was completely capable of pulling an all-nighter, and that he didn’t need any break whatsoever.
But that was harder said then done.
Alexander spent a difficult time thinking things through. It wasn’t like his ideas had flown away already- No, they were still there, in front of him, but somehow, he wasn’t able to translate them into words. Like a mere pupil who could feel his professor stare down at him, judgment in their eyes, Alexander felt his wife’s stare burn holes into his head- but he did not dare to look up, nor did he dare to write anything down on the paper, by fear that it might be a mistake he would have to cross out. If he made any mistakes, or seemed lost and drowsy in any way, his professor, who was Eliza in this case, would comment on it and use it as an excuse that he was tired, that he needed to join her to sleep- but to be fair, how could he even write something down if he couldn’t even think of something?
“Why aren’t you writing anything?” Eliza asked quietly. This was the difference between Eliza and a professor- The tone in her voice was delicate and soft, compared to the harshness he would receive from a professor. It was his wife after all. She was worried about him.
Alexander quickly wrote something down, but he scratched it almost immediately, followed by exactly the same two actions, although this time, Eliza could clearly make out the harshness of the stroke of Alexander’s pen, which made an unpleasant screeching sound, showing off Alexander’s frustration and fatigue- Exactly what he wasn’t supposed.
Great job, Alexander. Say goodbye to the possibility that she might leave him to his work, tonight.
The secretary pulled back the hair from his face, sighing. Eliza was very much right. He really couldn’t think straight anymore ever since a few nights back, but he thought that he’d get used to pulling all-nighters. But maybe it was best if he did take a break from them every once in a while.
For the first time that night, Alexander put down his pen, and got up from his seat for the first time that day- As he got up, the old chair he was sitting on screeched slightly. That was a sound Eliza never thought she’d hear that night.
“I’m done for the night,” Alexander spoke, covering a yawn with his aching hand.
Eliza’s jumped out of her seat, her face lighting up at his words- Finally, Alexander was actually going to join her to sleep.
“Oh, Alexander- I’m so glad! This will do you some good, you’ll see,” Eliza commented, rushing to her husband to take off his dark green, velvet vest, that she set on the back of his chair, leaving Alexander in his white blouse.
The secretary put his hand on the handle of the lit candle on his table, but Eliza was quick to take it away from him and hold it herself.
“Let me take it, Alexander,” Eliza spoke, before he could argue.
Resting her hand on his back, Eliza guided her husband outside of the dining room, heading to their shared bedroom.
It had been a while since Alexander entered their shared bedroom with his wife, since most of the time, she was already in it when he’d join her, and left before she noticed him leave.
Unlike the dining room he stayed in for most of the day, their bedroom was warm, and the atmosphere surrounding them was inviting and pleasant. He knew that it would be hard to leave this place once he’d settle down.
Eliza helped Alexander out of his clothes, handing him his nights wear.
While he put them on, Eliza put down the candle on her nightstand, then proceeded to fold her husband’s clothes, assembling them into a neat pile that she put down on their chest of drawers, which was set right between their two windows that gave in on their courtyard, where Philip would often spend his days playing. Sometimes, even Alexander would join him, and they’d play all sort of games, while Eliza watched them on the porch, with Philip’s younger sister in her arms, rocking herself back and forth in slow, regular motions on their old rocking chair.
Alexander laid down on their bed, Eliza soon joining him after, slipping the covers over them, until only the top half of their faces was visible.
The covers were warm, and soft, just like Eliza’s hands, although he much preferred her loving hands above anything else.
Eliza pressed a light peck on her husband’s forehead, that Alexander gladly allowed.
The worrisome look on her face was gone, replaced with that soft, loving smile Alexander loved so much.
“See? Isn’t it nice to stay like this? In a warm bed with someone to keep you company?”
“Hm... Yeah,” Alexander mumbled, making himself comfortable.
Glancing at the candle whose flame dangled constantly, Eliza asked, “Should I blow on the candle?”
“Go ahead. We don’t need it anymore,” Alexander sluggishly answered.
Leaning closer to the candle, the young woman gently blew on the flame. Their bedroom was now pitch black. Alexander and Eliza could barely see each other.
Alexander’s lonely, cold hand searched for his wife’s, until he finally caught hers and held onto it. This time, she let him keep it, despite how cold his hand was- Perhaps hers could warm up her husband’s hand.
Alexander clutched his wife’s hand three times, like he always did, as a sign of ‘I love you’. Eliza returned the favor, clutching his hand back the same way.
Letting out a breathy sigh in unison, the married couple intertwined their fingers together, as they looked up at the ceiling above them.
The secretary discerned the shuffling of sheets, then turned his head to his left, catching his wife nearing him, until their bodies were touching.
Despite the room being immersed in complete darkness, Eliza’s signature smile shined through, like a light piercing from behind dark grey clouds, immersing its surroundings in hope and warmth- That was her smile’s effect on Alexander, on everyone who had the pleasure to be near her. Her smile was just so powerful.
Sneaking his arms around her waist, Alexander brought her closer to him, until their faces were mere inches from each other, but Eliza, who quickly comprehended her husband’s plan, was quicker, and pressed a chaste kiss on her husband’s lips before he could do it.
Alexander let out a chuckle- Eliza may have beat him to it, but that wouldn’t stop him from giving her the kiss he was getting ready to give her.
Alexander closed the already small gap between them once more- but this time, for longer. He wanted to enjoy having her lips on his, enjoy his wife’s warmth and let it invade him- for a few more seconds before his eyes would close completely, drifting off to sleep. A sudden fatigue had hit him, and Alexander didn’t really think that he’d be able to have his eyes open any longer.
Alexander felt his wife’s lips shape into a small smile, resting her hands on each side of her husband’s face. Finally, her warm hands were his- His greedy wish had come true.
When Alexander backed away from their shared kiss, his body wasn’t cold anymore, and he was starting to feel drowsier then before. He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, and neither could Eliza, who had already seemed to have lost against her fatigue.
Eliza rested her head against her husband’s chest, while Alexander stroked her ebony hair with his fingers with slow, repetitive motions.
“Good night, Alexander,” Eliza whispered, low enough so it wouldn’t ruin this peaceful atmosphere the couple had created.
“Good night,” he answered, closing his eyes.
“I love you very much,” she murmured in her husband’s ear. But she received no answer. Alexander had already fallen asleep.
Eliza did not bother chasing after an answer. She didn’t need an answer. She already knew that Alexander loved her, and she hoped that he knew that she loved him back just as much, if not more.
Her ear pressed against his chest, Eliza could make out the slow beating of her husband’s heart.
A sign that her husband was alive and well. She prayed that that would last until they grew of old age. She hoped that both of them would be able to live past their fifties and live happily in a world they would create together, with their children by their side.
To have her children and husband by her side for ever...
That would be enough.
They would be enough.