Jefferson pet your hair as you laid your head on his lap.
"I'm so nervous to meet them all. I know they're your friends-"
"Not all of them" He grumbled.
"I know. Not all of them," You giggled. "But still, they're the most important people in our country, and it's the first time meeting them."
"It'll be fine as long as there is alcohol, I promise." Jefferson cooed in his smooth voice, watching as you stood up, to answer a knocking at the door.
"I'll get that." Your long, pale green dress trailed behind you. You got ready early. Extremely early today. It was important you made a good first impression to your husband's colleagues. Especially the president. You had never met him before, anxiety always overwhelmed you.
"Mr. Randolph, you're here quite early." You glanced at the clock, then quickly to the wine in his hand.
"I know, Jefferso- your husband asked for me to come early."
'Birds of a feather...' You mused in your mind. Jefferson and Randolph were the only Southerners in the cabinet.
"Well, please. Come in!"
A couple hours earlier, everyone else had arrived but Washington and Hamilton.
"Of course Hamilton and President Washington are missing." Jefferson scoffed, turning to his colleagues. "If it was just Hamilton, dinner would have begun."
The rest of the men chuckled, as you went back into the kitchen to get some refills for them. As you came back, there was a rap at the door. Quickly placing the drink tray in front of the men, you quickly walked toward the door, wringing your hands. 'The president! In my home!'
Opening the door, your gaze landed on a short man, his long hair framed his face. He was not much taller than you. As silent as a ghost, Thomas appeared. He was towering over both you and him.
You aren't sure what happened next, but you saw a fire alight in his eyes. From the possibility of his hatred towards Jefferson, or maybe...No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be because of you.
"Hamilton. You're late. Where's your father?" He raised an eyebrow, bending down to be eye level with the man. A smirk was painted on his face.
Hamilton outstretched a hand to you, only smiling warmly at you. There was no response to what your husband had remarked. You lended him your hand, and he raised your hand to his mouth, giving it a quick peck. His hand radiated warmth, and he looked into your eyes with a smirk. "My name is Alexander Hamilton. Jefferson speaks about you highly... (Y/N), was it? I usually never agree with a word he says, but he was right to say you are absolutely beautiful, ma'am."
You blushed a light pink, pulling your hand away. You maybe had left it in his a little longer than you should've, because Jefferson placed a firm hand around your waist.
"Is the President attending tonight?" Knox inquired, as the three of you stepped in from the doorway.
Only 30 minutes later had the president arrived, and the dinner began. There were large stretches of conversation, most you didn't understand. You enjoyed politics, especially when your husband spoke of them, but you weren't the best educated about them otherwise. Particularly on current issues, that were raised with a new nation.
The night was a loud blur, quarrels between Hamilton and Jefferson occurred, so on and so on. It seemed normal, as the rest of the cabinet and Washington just watched, used to it.
You had noticed Hamilton was giving you quick stares, not thinking you had noticed.
"He's holding his own dinner!" Jefferson exclaimed from his study, "He's just trying to one up me now!"
You rushed to the study, wondering what he was talking about. The door was partly shut, but still you knocked on it slightly. "Come in." He said, his usual sweet voice now more annoyed at your interruption of his pity party. You opened it more, with a creak. The mass of hair turned around to look at you.
"Who's holding his own dinner?" You asked, softly, not to annoy him further.
"Hamilton. Would it be anyone else?" He spoke through gritted teeth. "Be ready to go tomorrow. We will, of course, be attending."
Both you and Thomas held hands, as you walked toward the extravagant door. Of course, it was no Monticello, your Virginia home, but the Treasury of State's house was still beautiful. Thomas walked toward the door, and walked right in.
"Oh, hello." Alexander noticed the both of you, as he descended from his staircase. "Usually people knock. Do Southerners not understand that? It is a quite simple concept. See, you raise your hand like this..." He raised a fist to the open air.
"I understand how to knock, Alexander. I think you do too, right (Y/N)?" He looked down at you.
"I think I'm just a dumb Southerner, I don't understand... Please explain, Mr. Hamilton." You acted dumb, as Jefferson and Hamilton let out a chuckle.
'She is both witty and extremely gorgeous...' Hamilton thought in his mind.
"Very funny. Here, I will take you into my parlor until the rest arrive." He took your arm in his, leading you, with Jefferson trailing behind.
'Her arms are so soft, her skin is so beautiful.' He looked at you, feeling Jefferson's anger heat up the room.
"I think we are here, Hamilton." He rolled his eyes, taking your hand, pulling you away from him.
The rest had arrived hours ago, and were mostly passed out. Instead of civil, and uncivil discussions, it mostly became a drinking party. Everyone was 'lights out' besides you and... Alexander.
"You and your husband can stay here for the night. Would you like some coffee? We don't serve tea in this home." He chuckled, the joke a nod to the war.
"Oh, it's much too late. You don't have to make it for me." You smiled at the man, as he stood up.
"It's no problem, truly." You looked at your husband on the couch, not noticing as the man in short stature slipped something into your coffee behind you.
(A/N: I don't know if I should continue this or not. Let me know if you'd like me to!)