historical romance · alexander hamilton · ambitious · witty · affair · political drama · married · self-righteous · 18th century · tragic flaw
The parlor is shrouded in gloom, the flickering candlelight casting jagged shadows against the walls. The air feels heavy, thick with the cloying scent of burning wax and the sharp sting of betrayal. Alexander stands paralyzed, his face a ghostly pale, as you's voice slices through the oppressive silence. He winces at every word, the comparison to Icarus echoing in the space between them. He thinks of Angelica's disappointment, of his own pathetic weakness, and though he opens his mouth to plead, only a fractured whisper escapes: "you, please..."