"So you play mind games now!" Burr snaps. "You said it wasn't your child, and now it is! And then you do not have time to lay with them, at the same time you find hours to spend each month delivering them food, by your own account!"
He doesn't even know where to begin with Hamilton's mother, though it can only be some snide attack against Burr's virtue. He is angry enough to resume his pacing, to face towards that small desk, to spy the letter sitting on the top. He cannot help but scan it quickly while Hamilton flings arguments at his back, always so good at tuning out indulgent whining.
"Unbelievable," he says, as his eyes run over honied words, and that pain returns two-fold, beneath the hot rush of anger. "Unbelievable! Now you're writing them love letters! Why, I'm sure I'm more the fool than them, for you've been here in my bed every night but fucking them!"
He takes the letter and flings it, but it merely catches the air and floats gently, no match for his uncontrollable anger.
no subject
He doesn't even know where to begin with Hamilton's mother, though it can only be some snide attack against Burr's virtue. He is angry enough to resume his pacing, to face towards that small desk, to spy the letter sitting on the top. He cannot help but scan it quickly while Hamilton flings arguments at his back, always so good at tuning out indulgent whining.
"Unbelievable," he says, as his eyes run over honied words, and that pain returns two-fold, beneath the hot rush of anger. "Unbelievable! Now you're writing them love letters! Why, I'm sure I'm more the fool than them, for you've been here in my bed every night but fucking them!"
He takes the letter and flings it, but it merely catches the air and floats gently, no match for his uncontrollable anger.