//TW: swearing, vague mentions of murder, and also James\\

From now on, we must call the Bill Of Rights the Bible of American Standardizations. Why? Not really sure. That's just the way it is now.

(Edit: Omg I totally forgot about that and that makes me so sad cuz that was a joke with a friend I dont even talk to anymore and she probably forgot I even exist lmao)

Alexander

"I just find her kinda relatable, you know? Sacrificing herself for the one she loved? It didn't work out very well, yeah, but it's the thought that counts."

"Yeah," I responded absently, the way his syllables curved and formed nothing more than a distant, almost inaudible sound. I wish I could have listened to him. I wish I could have hung on every word he was saying, drinking them in, absorbing them, dissecting each individual meaning until I found the root of everything that made Thomas who he was, but I couldn't.

I was lost.

Lost in the murmurs of complete strangers that quieted down as we passed. Lost in the looks they flashed Thomas, and whether it was one of sympathy or one of barely hidden disgust, the way they saw him didn't change. The people and their silent, swift judgements pooled in on me, pulling me down under a tide stronger than I was prepared for. If only they could see him the way I saw him. But they didn't. They didn't know Thomas. They didn't know his starlight and his sweet symphony and the smell of fragrant roses blooming in a cool, early spring.

All they saw was something to be ridiculed, to be judged. To be stared at and poked like an animal trapped in a cage, all with the satisfaction of knowing you're safe because an animal trapped in a cage doesn't fight back. It can't.

I wanted to go over there and deck all of them.

"Alexander?"

"Yes, love?"

"Are you...are you even listening to me?"

"Uh," I began, then sighed. "No. I'm sorry, Thomas." I squeezed his hand apologetically, wishing I could have been better. Wishing I could have been the person he deserved.

"Is everything alright?"

"Umm, yeah, I—" A girl laughed with her friend as we passed, and my voice died in my throat at once. Was she laughing at my Thomas? Did she even understand? I bristled, pulling Thomas closer if it meant pulling him away from her sight. I wish I could have protected him from their piercing, unwavering stares clawing gouges in his skin. When would they have finally taken enough?

I squeezed Thomas's had and forced myself to exhale.

It couldn't have been much longer to Professor Washington's class, but it still dragged by like eternities.

"You're not paying attention to them, are you?" Thomas asked, looking down at me with somewhat of a frown.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I guess. They're being rude assholes. They don't even know the shit you've been through!"

Thomas sighed, ducking his head. "Don't let them get to you."

"But they don't even know anything about you. Why is it fair that they get to—they shouldn't be able to just—I don't know."

"Hey, don't worry," Thomas said, nudging me softly with his hip. "You get used to it."

"That's horrible."

He laughed lightly. "Yeah. It is, isn't it?"

I was quiet for a moment, letting the brutal realization sink in. How could he be so used to this? To letting the world hurt him day after day? It just isn't...fair. And I know things aren't supposed to be fair, but aren't they? Where are the stories of how love conquers all? Where are the stories about an inevitable happy ending for those who have nothing but sadness? Where are all the tales of heroes who finally accomplish and get everything they've ever wanted while the villains get exactly what they deserved? It's what we've been fed on, what we've been promised since we were children. And to have that denied to us seems like an outright betrayal.

"But if you could change it, would you?"

He shrugged, a look coming over his face as he pondered the simplistic question. My shoulders stiffened the longer he took; I figured the answer would have been pretty cut and dry. "I mean...I don't know."

"What?"

Thomas shrugged, clutching my hand tighter. He stared at the floor, his footsteps gaining a quick but steady rhythm. "Well, I'm really happy right now. With you. And I wouldn't change that for the world."

"Oh." Warmth pooled into my face, and as annoying as it was, it wasn't completely unwelcome, either. I think I almost tripped over my own feet, just trying to keep up with him while the whole world spun around me just at those words. I smiled up at him even as he stared at the ground, lost in his own thoughts. He probably had no idea how important that was.

I'd be thinking about it for weeks.

"Do you think I'd stop liking you? Because I wouldn't. I would never...and you shouldn't have to be constantly getting hurt day in and day out, Thomas. I'm not worth it. And it's horrible the way they treat you."

"Yeah, so?"

"Thomas!"

"Things are wonderful right now, Alexander. Why bother changing them? Plus, it doesn't matter what the rest of the world thinks." He smiled lightly, the starlight returning to his warm gaze for a split second, so swift and fleeting that if you blinked, you'd miss it. So I took extra care to draw it in, memorize it, bask in its glory. Just because I hated what the world looked like without it. It warmed my chest but tightened it also, that same old mixture of adoration and fear that I would never understand.

It was scary, how much I realized I didn't know whenever I saw that vast, infinite number of meanings and possibilities stretching out before me. Whenever I heard the song of thousands of galaxies in his beautiful laugh. Whenever I looked at him and the rest of the world lost its meaning, nothing compared to the beautiful, ethereal being my Thomas was.

I may have a bit of a problem. I know, okay? Fuck off.

But in my defense, how could I not? How could one look at him and see something besides light and hope and something temporary and yet so immortal?

"As long as I have you, I don't care," he whispered, his hand curling into mine.

"Thomas?"

"I'm sorry. That was sappy, wasn't it?"

"You're the most wonderful person I've ever met in my entire life. And I'm serious when I say that, okay?"

"O-okay." 

And the saddest part is I'd never deserve him. Not somebody so great, so angellic. He was a being all on his own, a fantasy that belonged to a world I had no right to peer in on.

His laugh resounded through the mostly empty corridor, filling me with a buoyancy and lightness I never felt around anybody else. I squeezed his hand again, lifting my chin as the world looked onwards. He was mine. I didn't give a shit what anybody else thought. He was mine. And I would do whatever it took to protect him and worship him and keep him safe.

But even then, I still couldn't shake the glances they threw our way, peppered in with the occasional mocking jeer that always hit Thomas in all the horribly right ways, even if he refused to let it be seen. Each mumbled jibe, each freezing stare all cut deep, and left their mark for quite some time.

It had been about a week since Madison had tried to hurt Thomas.

And it seemed, somehow, that life just seemed to be getting worse and worse for my poor boyfriend. I don't know which asshole started it, but people have been calling Thomas horrible things behind his back when they think he isn't listening.

He is.

He always is.

Eventually, the door came into sight, faces vaguely familiar but often lost to the backgrounds of my mind drifting back up again. Thomas sighed, humming a soft tune under his breath. I didn't even realize it at first, barely noting the way I smiled at it. How I curved towards it like flowers to warm, radiant sunshine.

I let out a breath, picking my head up.

Today is going to be different.

Today, everything is going to change.

I'm going to fix the glaring cracks in this otherwise perfect world. I'm going to keep that monster of a human being away from Thomas for good. I'm going to finally do all the things I promised him I would.

Today, provided that everything go right for once (but when has that ever happened?), should be the last day we have to worry about any of this bullshit ever again.

"Are you alright?" Thomas asked.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

"Sorry. You just seem slightly distracted."

"What can I say? I guess you just have that effect on me."

Thomas shook his head, turning away so I couldn't see the smile that was inevitably spreading across his face, blooming like cherry blossoms in early spring. I wish he wouldn't hide his gorgeous smile so much. I loved seeing the way the world lit up around it in perfect synchronization with him and his glow. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're adorable."

We entered the classroom together, and I cast a quick glance over to Professor Washington's desk. My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met, sharing our secret. I squeezed Thomas's hand one more time, averting my gaze as he led us to our seats. I settled in, took a deep breath, and smiled up at him. Because it was the only thing I could really do.

"Hey," I said, prodding Thomas as he pulled out his notebook and started going through his notes.

"What are you doing?" he asked, laughing under his breath.

"Bothering you."

"Why?"

"It's fun."

"You're the worst."

"And yet, you put up with me anyway." I had to see him laugh, I had to see him smile. If only to alleviate the growing tension in the pit of my stomach, the knot of guilt and desperation and knowing it had been my last resort. I glanced at the clock quickly, face heating up as Thomas blinked up at me as if he could sense my worry.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. Everything's fine."

Thomas leaned across the small gap that separated our desks. He steadied my hand with his own, laying it flat against the industrialized wood grain. I hadn't even realized I'd been clicking my pen until the the absence of its sound emptied the air.

"Sorry, love."

"Don't worry about it."

I set my pen down and leaned back in my seat, drawing in a breath. I was about to say something to him when my eyes fell on exactly the same thing his did. He went still, withdrawing his hand from mine after a brief second. Thomas returned his gaze to his notes, jaw set, brow furrowed. As if it was just an apparition, an illusion that would go away if you just closed your eyes and hoped enough.

Well, for his sake, I wish that were the case.

"Do you want me to kill him for you?" I asked softly, reaching for his hand. But he held it just out of reach. Frowning, I let my hand fall to my side.

"That's okay. But I appreciate it."

"Hey," I said softly, wishing I could have touched him like I longed to do in front of all these people. Just cradle his face in my hands, press a kiss to his lips, and promise everything was going to be alright. But I couldn't, not with him watching.

I almost hate how much I've demonized him, turned James Madison into this massive, glaring monster with claws of steel and eyes of ice. Don't get me wrong, he deserves to suffer for everything he's done, but some days it's easy to forget that he's not some cosmic being with a vast array of powers. I'm giving him these powers. I'm letting him scare me, thus letting him win. But he's really just as mortal and fallible as the rest of us. It's easy to forget that he's a human being. And perhaps that's the worst part of all of this.

That a human being can be capable of so much fear and destruction.

At the front of the room, James stood proud. He set his bag on the ground and stared at Thomas for a moment or two longer than necessary, gaze lingering even as Thomas refused to look up. He didn't look as pristine and put-together as he usually did: his hair was a mess and there were heavy bags resting under his eyes.

Good. Let him suffer.

I matched his hardened glare with one of my own, reached across the space, and took Thomas's hand in mine. James looked away first, slumping into his seat, and somehow, I managed to relax.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he said.

"You don't sound like you're okay."

Thomas offered me what could vaguely pass as a smile, and shrugged. "I just...I don't know. It's confusing. And I can't help but feel like somehow, someway, this is all of my fault. You know?"

"None of this is your fault. You are my amazing, brave, strong, and beautiful Thomas," I murmured, keeping my voice low so the rest of the world couldn't hear us.

Thomas laughed lightly. "Well, I don't know about all of that."

"It's true!"

"If you say so. But still...I don't know. It isn't my fault." A pause. An uncertain, "Right?"

"Of course not! It isn't your fault Thomas, and if anyone tries to tell you any differently, I will fight them."

He turned back to me and smiled softly. "That's strangely comforting."

"What can I say? I'm very good at what I do. Hey, wanna hear a joke? It's really funny this time, I promise."

"You promised that last time and it wasn't."

I rolled my eyes and told my joke regardless. "How long does an owl live?"

"I don't know," he said, exasperated. "How long?"

"Just over six books."

It took him a minute to get it, but the instant he did, his gaze turned to a glare. "You're a horrible person, you know that?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I suppose. But that's why you adore me so much. Because I'm so horrible."

Thomas softened. "Oh, whatever."

~•~

"Thomas, can I speak to you for a moment?"

Thomas glanced up at Washington, stopping in his tracks as the words floated through the air. A flash of unease slid through his gaze, but he combatted it with a reassuring smile.

"Umm, you don't mind if—"

"No! Of course not!" I returned, nudging him gently as the rest of the class filed out of the room, leaving just the three of us. "I'll meet you back home, okay?"

"Okay." Thomas started to head towards Washington's desk, paused mid-step, turned back to me, and pressed a kiss to my cheek far too quickly for me to respond. Warmth pooled into my face as Washington lifted an eyebrow at Thomas, who in response shook his head and said nothing.

I stood there, momentarily dazed by the softest brush of his lips against my bare skin, then remembered myself. I watched for a second or two longer before turning on my heel and leaving them to it. The second I stepped out into the hallway, the weight sitting heavily on my shoulders alleviated itself, and I drew in a deep breath of the still, stuffy air.

But my relief was short-lived.

"Hello, Alexander."

And just like that, a frost seized me with its cold, clammy grip, and plunged the world into darkness.

"What the fuck do you want?"

James shrugged, nonchalant. As if nothing in this fucking world fazed him. "To talk. What else?"

His complete apathy muddled the words on the tip of my tongue. I turned away from him and walked away before I lost control, but of course, he followed me.

"Where's Thomas?"

"None of your business."

"Oh, relax, would you? I just want to see how he's doing."

I spun on him. "Stay away from him. You've caused enough fucking damage."

James blinked. "I don't think you fully understand what Thomas and I had. It's not as black and white as you paint it."

"Oh, fuck off," I spat.

"I'm serious, Alexander."

"You're a lying cunt. I'd be an idiot to take anything you say seriously."

"You trust Thomas more than me?"

"Yes. I do."

"You don't even know if he's telling the truth or not."

"What the hell do you want from me?"

James offered me one of his sickening smiles, and something deep inside of me rotted and withered and died upon seeing it. He shrugged easily, the look in his eyes piercing my flesh. "I just want you to be careful, that's all. Thomas has a tendency to...well, let's just say he's only ever cared about himself."

I bristled, my fingernails digging into the sensitive flesh at my palm to stop myself from slapping him right here on campus. Oh, believe me, I wanted to. But not here. Not where so many people could see me. People who could mock and ridicule Thomas even further, and that was frankly, the last thing he needed.

"Fuck off," I hissed.

"I'm just trying to warn you, Alexander. I don't blame you for what Thomas did, just so you know. He's a whore. That isn't your fault."

Oh how that word stung. Oh how it ripped me apart, piece by piece, from the inside out. It burned and it chilled and it filled me with the worst, most vile sense of hatred ever.

"Leave him alone," I spat out as if the words burned, finally losing the precious control I had barely been able to maintain. The fragment came rushing out from something deep inside of me, something alight with hot flames formed by passion and fury. "Stay away from him. He doesn't want you; he doesn't need you. If you so much as look at him wrong one more time, I swear to God, I'll make you wish you were never born. So do us all a favor and go fuck yourself."

And without another word, I pushed past him and managed to continue onwards, my heart wild and uncontrollable in my chest, begging to be let out. The chilly breeze did little to cool the anger heating my face, but I pushed through it as I returned home to wait for Thomas.

And I waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

And in those long, twenty minutes, horrid thoughts filled my mind. Thoughts that didn't deserve to be acknowledged, thoughts that turned the world dark and unaccepting. I gripped my hands to distract myself, tried to throw whatever brain space I had into frantic, hardly-coherent writings, but it didn't seem to work.

I shouldn't have left him alone I shouldn't have left him alone I shouldn't have left him alone.

He had to be okay. He'd be okay, right? He had to be. I had nothing without my Thomas.

Alexander: hey

Alexander: where are you??

Alexander: please text me as soon as you see this I know im worrying about nothing but youre still kinda scaring me, love

I set my phone down on the table and resisted the urge to scream. It took a lot out of me, especially when all the bottled up anger and fear bubbled up to the surface with every image of a mutila—

STOP.

I let out a breath and folded my hands in my lap.

But as always, all of my worrying inevitably turned out to be the ravings of someone lost and confused. For the door opened after half an hour, revealing a Thomas cloaked by the yellow light spilling in behind him. He said nothing as he stepped inside, but finally, I could breathe again.

"There you are!" I said, forcing a laugh. "You really had me worried."

Thomas said nothing as he slinked forwards and dropped onto the couch.

"How'd it go? Everything okay?"

Thomas stared at the ground firmly, absolutely refusing to meet my gaze. He was silent for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and hurt. "You told someone?"

Any strength I thought I had dissolved under those three, completely empty, heartbroken words. I could practically see the way the tether binding us together strained and threatened to break.

"I trusted you. I specifically asked you not to tell anyone. I had to lie to Professor Washington because of you, Alexander!"

"Lie?" I repeated, aghast. "Why would you lie?"

"You don't get it, do you? When someone tells you they'll hurt you if you tell anybody, they aren't kidding! It isn't a joke!"

I recoiled, mouth falling open. Thomas raked his fingers through his hair, the stress and frustration building up to the point where it was clear he couldn't handle it anymore. They released themselves through his tears, unwelcome and unfair.

"Thomas, I was just trying to help—"

"Maybe I don't want your help Alexander! Maybe I can take care of somethings on my own! I don't need you to save me, okay?" he snapped, and all I could do was really sit there as the gravity of it all sunk in.

"Thomas-"

"How am I supposed to trust you? You think you're doing the right thing by telling someone, but you aren't! Trust me! You think you're helping, but you're only making it worse!"

"I-"

"I'm afraid of him, okay, Alexander? I'm afraid of what he'll do to me! I know what James Madison is capable of." His shoulders sagged in defeat and he stared at the ground. The next part came out as a whisper. "And I know that he'll hurt me if he finds out that Washington knows."

I stewed in the silence for a long moment, the sound of the streets below the only thing filling the world now. Did they know? Did they care? I opened my mouth to speak, realized I had absolutely nothing that would ever be good enough, and closed it again.

Thomas sighed, hugging his body as he stared down at the couch cushion.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. In a split second decision, hardly giving myself time to hesitate, I leaned forward and cupped his face in one hand. He pressed himself closer, turning his head into the warmth I managed to provide. "I wasn't thinking about how you would react. I was more focused on—"

"No, Alexander. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. That was completely unfair and you were only trying to help." He sighed as I brushed away a stray tear that had broken free from his eyes.

"Hey, you have every right to be mad at me. I should have listened to you."

"Still." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

Thomas smiled, laughed a little bit. "Okay. Good. I'm glad I don't have to be mad at somebody as cute as you."

"Aww. You're too kind. And absolutely right."

His smile only widened as he traded me a quick kiss for the mere chance to glimpse upon it. I wanted to hold him close and never let him go. Run my fingers through his hair, kiss him, hold him, be with him.

I cannot believe I am lucky enough to have him as mine.

I let go of him and he stared at me for a moment. "Where did you hide the knives?" he asked finally.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I miss cooking and I wanna do more of it. And I like cooking for you." He smiled, his face flushing. "Especially when you enjoy it."

I brushed my fingers against a loose curl. "So then you forgive me?"

"Not until I get a cat," he said, smiling a little.

"A cat?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I want a cat."

I grinned. "I'll think about it."