This isn't how it's supposed to go. He's supposed to save himself, and then come back and save Burr too. He's supposed to be strong enough now, since he's not a boy anymore. He's supposed to -- how can he be good enough for Burr if he needs to be rescued? How can he be good enough for anyone?
Not even strong enough to save yourself. The words suffuse into the omnipresent frenetic drumbeat at the back of Hamilton's mind. He wants to be the brightest, the best, the worthiest. The terror that freezes him right now is that, if he lets this happen, he never will be.
But he can't think of how to stop it. And can't think of how to survive, ambitions intact, without letting it happen. Specters of callous greed, on every side, and nowhere a clear and honorable path.
He draws closer to the gallery, a hundred pairs of eyes on him, the wooden rail like a jail's iron bars in between him and the man he wants desperately as a lover.
"You don't have to." Hamilton yearns and yearns. He imagines himself on the verge of shattering, and thinks of dark and glittering eyes, of how a tree's supple roots can twine through ruined brick-rubble and ash, to drink of the rich ground beneath. Burr is reaching for him. Will Hamilton refuse to relent, just for the pride of it?
He can't say all of what he means, not here. You don't have to will need to suffice. If Burr decides to reveal himself, Hamilton will stand by him.
"Come forward," says the judge. "What is your name, and what testimony do you have for the court?"
no subject
This isn't how it's supposed to go. He's supposed to save himself, and then come back and save Burr too. He's supposed to be strong enough now, since he's not a boy anymore. He's supposed to -- how can he be good enough for Burr if he needs to be rescued? How can he be good enough for anyone?
Not even strong enough to save yourself. The words suffuse into the omnipresent frenetic drumbeat at the back of Hamilton's mind. He wants to be the brightest, the best, the worthiest. The terror that freezes him right now is that, if he lets this happen, he never will be.
But he can't think of how to stop it. And can't think of how to survive, ambitions intact, without letting it happen. Specters of callous greed, on every side, and nowhere a clear and honorable path.
He draws closer to the gallery, a hundred pairs of eyes on him, the wooden rail like a jail's iron bars in between him and the man he wants desperately as a lover.
"You don't have to." Hamilton yearns and yearns. He imagines himself on the verge of shattering, and thinks of dark and glittering eyes, of how a tree's supple roots can twine through ruined brick-rubble and ash, to drink of the rich ground beneath. Burr is reaching for him. Will Hamilton refuse to relent, just for the pride of it?
He can't say all of what he means, not here. You don't have to will need to suffice. If Burr decides to reveal himself, Hamilton will stand by him.
"Come forward," says the judge. "What is your name, and what testimony do you have for the court?"