Counterpoint

Chapter 23

Alexander

   The day seems to drag with such a painful slowness. Jefferson has left me alone in the house as he goes out to run errands. He had invited me to tag along, but something about it didn't feel quite right leaving me to sit in my temporary room blindly staring at the wall. My hand is covering my mouth as the blood underneath my cheeks scorches my skin, burning me from the inside. Why can I only think about the taste of his tongue? Among all the other things that transpired between us the memory of the press of his tongue against my own and its taste continues to cut through my thoughts. 

   His mouth had a rather addictively sweet taste to it. If I had to compare it I would say that his mouth is like Heroine. I run my fingers through my hair quickly before tangling my fingers into my hair. I don't know what it is that is making me think about him this way, but these thoughts need to disappear. My nails scrape against my scalp as I detangle my fingers from my hair and grip them onto my knees. What am I supposed to do about all of this? 

   My phone buzzes in my pocket and I slide it out of my pocket and feel my face flush as I read the name of the sender. Lafayette. He simply asks me how I am doing. If Thomas is treating me well while I am staying with him. I hesitantly begin to type my response to his inquisitive text. I delete my words and retype them over and over again, struggling to find the words that can convey what I am feeling and what it is like here. My thumb hovers for a brief moment over the send button before quickly flitting to the backspace and deleting my words once more. 

   He can be a pain, but it could be a lot worse. 

   After several attempts, this was the best that I could come up with. I am both embarrassed and ashamed of how simple and unmeaningful my words are. After at least ten drafts of this message , I am painfully disappointed with what I had produced. 

   Is everything going alright? He isn't being too horrible to you, is he?

   No, Laf. Everything is fine, I promise. I quickly type in response. You know that I would be the first person to bitch about my problems if something really was wrong. When did I become such a total liar? I set my phone aside as I wait for the response, my eyes staring down at the floor. The tips of my ears begin to burn and tingle as phantom scrapes of his teeth cut over my skin. My face burns as I cover my ears with my palms in an attempt to rid myself of these sensations, they only seem to intensify with the heat of my palms. 

   I'm sorry if you think that I am being nosey, but you two have never been alone like this before. Forgive me for being anxious. My breathing is labored as the pleasure of nonexistent touches race over my skin. Get a grip Hamilton! If you can't get a hold of yourself than you are only going to fall even deeper into this hole of problems. I fall back onto the bed, leaving the text from Lafayette unanswered. I don't know what I can possibly say to him now. How could I ever explain what this situation is like?

   A breathy gasp escapes me as I roll over onto my side and the cool press of the comforter meets the feverish skin of my ears. A wave of static rushes through my chest and down to my toes. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as my eyes scrunch closed tightly. Deep and slow breaths pass through my lips for a few minutes before I open my eyes again. Brown eyes are staring back at me from the doorframe and I feel my heart temporarily halt in my chest. 

   "So...how you doing over there Hamilton?" Jefferson asks with such a painful slowness that it makes my embarrassment intensify tenfold. 

   "I'm fine...why?"

   "Oh, no reason." He murmurs as he leans against the pale wood of the doorframe. "I just got a few texts from Lafayette asking me to check on you, and I find you here breathing as if you are trying to pull yourself back from the edge." I roll over onto my other side, pointing my back at him. 

   "Don't become too confident." I grumble. "Just because you managed to sleep with me one time doesn't make you an expert on everything about me." 

   "Managed?" he mutters. "That sure is an interesting way of putting it. You make it sound as if it were some sort of struggle." 

   "Go away." I grumble. 

   "It's my house, I'll go wherever I please." The floor creaks underneath his feet as he comes to sit on the end of the bed. I flinch as his hand comes to rest on my ankle. I quickly tuck my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them protectively. I can feel him staring at me but I can't bring myself to look at him. "I never would have taken you for the type to be so shy after sex." he chuckles. 

   "Shut up!" I hiss as I tuck my face down into my arms. 

   "You are aware that you will eventually have to talk to me about whatever it is that is causing...all of this." His fingers tap against my leg and I pull them in closer. He chuckles at my response to his touch. "Or, we could keep things the way they are and you can keep amusing me like this." 

   "You're an asshole." I mutter as my face burns as his fingers brush against my ankle slowly, making my skin burn.

   "Only when it comes to you Hamilton."