Lunchtime, Alexander Hamilton x Reader

Prompt: 1. “Are you wearing my shirt?” + Alexander Hamilton + Modern! AU

Words: 499

Author’s Note: Ham is a weird character, but I like him.

Warnings: Alexander is cute. King’s College is referred to Columbia University

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Finals week was upon you, any and all effort had to be put towards your work. You studied non-stop (nearly as much as Alex puts in on a daily basis). Meals and showers became less frequent, migraines hit like hurricanes.

You had locked yourself in the bedroom of your’s and Alex’s shared apartment, phone far out of reach and multiple highlighters in each hand. 

While you and Alexander have been close for years, you had yet to take your relationship any further than best friends and roommates - even if you technically didn’t share a room.

Alex graduated two years before you and was busy at work for a law firm in the city. This happened to be a rather relaxed week for him, he was in between cases and late nights weren’t as plentiful. The opposite could be said for you.

Everyday, he comes in with a simple breakfast before saying goodbye until lunch. You felt so bad that he went to the trouble that you took precisely enough bites for him to see that you ate.

He came back during his lunch break with something from the deli across the street and would force you to take a break and eat with him. You wondered why you let him take care of you like this when he never let you do the same for him.

You sat criss-cross on your bed, facing each other. He told you about something Burr had said to him that made him crack up in the middle of an ‘important business meeting’.

“Well, they should know better than to invite you to those.” You teased.

“Haha, very funny,” His voice came out muffled, as he had a rather large bite of a sandwich in it.

“You’re disgusting.” You laughed, checking the time to make sure you hadn’t allowed your little break to go on too long.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” 

You looked down. Huh. You had somehow gotten a hold of his ‘Columbia University’ shirt.

“Yeah. I guess so.” You shrugged, “Is that bad?”

“No! It’s just…usually girlfriends wear their boyfriends shirts.” He smirked, knowing he was tapping into a conversation the two of you had been dodging for years.

“And usually boyfriends get their girlfriends breakfast and lunch everyday, insisting they’re taken care of.” You gestured to the many bags of wrappers that had accumulated in your trashcan.

He laughed, knowing you had the upper hand here.

“You got me. The office calls. I have to put food on the table for this family.” You giggle, deciding it was time for you to get back to work.

He helped you clean up the wrappers and added them to your trash. He tugged gently on the hem of his shirt, “It looks much better on you anyways.” He winked, making his way out. He stopped at your door, watching as you were already immersed back in your notes, “Hey,” He called. You glanced up, “Love you, girlfriend.”

“Love you too, boyfriend.”