#care about other plants than pot lmao. other than that we have houses and ig the different ways we express ourselves

[snekdood]

my culture is midwestern emo

[astralaffairs]

put a ring on it 03 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 11k 🤪

warnings: rlly none! hectic families, stupid pet names, uncomfy emotions, compromising positions. also dont any of u dare get as close to another human as is depicted here anytime soon. pls flatten the curve. social distancing is cool i swear.

a/n: lmao remember on part 2 when i said i wouldn’t take as long to update this time? here we are, almost exactly a year later, even tho i wrote 8k words of this in the past couple days. enjoy!!! better late than never ig.

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @abovethyfold - lmk if you want to be added; sorry if i missed anyone!!

Philip had brought you coffee without you asking.

It was mid-morning after your shower; the carpet of Philip's room was soft under your feet as you grabbed your phone off the marble countertop of his sink, just enjoying the peaceful silence. You scrolled briefly through your texts, smiling as you declined an offer for a manufactured emergency from Patsy (not before you seriously considered it, though). You slid it into your back pocket before padding down the stairs to find wherever Philip had gotten off to.

And thus, you were met with the distinctly strong smell of coffee.

Your footsteps stalled only a moment. You furrowed your brow; the corners of your lips quirked as you continued into his kitchen. You found him sitting at the end of the table opposite where you stood, glasses pushed down the bridge of his nose, reading a newspaper and sipping coffee from a paper cup. Your smile grew as he didn't even realize you were there; you leaned forward, resting on the chair nearest you as you bit your lip.

"Hey." Your voice was soft as he looked up, giving you a soft smile as he met your eyes.

"Morning, princess," he hummed, taking another sip from his cup as he eyed you, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty well." Your yawn came through in your voice despite your words, and he nodded, averting his eyes back to his paper. Neither of you dared mention how you'd woken up tangled in each other, your legs intertwined with his, hands in his hair and with his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, your head against his bare chest. Instead, you broke the silence with, "So, you gonna share any of that coffee with me, Hamilton? Or were you just gonna ignore these bags under my eyes?"

You pointed to yourself with mock annoyance, and he chuckled, putting down the newspaper. "What, you don't think I picked up anything for my girlfriend?" He raised an eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes, slumping into the seat opposite him.

"Oh yeah? What'd you get me?" Your tone was flat as you pinned him with a skeptical stare. He only grinned, leaning back and grabbing another paper cup from the counter behind him. You raised your eyebrows, eyes widening in the slightest. It probably shouldn't have come as a shock to you, but you couldn't help your surprise at the gesture.

He chuckled at your expression. "I can't believe you'd underestimate me like this." He put a hand on his heart with a mock pout as he passed the coffee across the table to you, and you took a seat, rolling your eyes.

"What's the catch?" you asked dryly.

"Does there have to be a catch?"

"Last time you brought me coffee I ended up here." You raised your eyebrows, looking at him knowingly, and he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, I get it. Point made." He grinned as he reached again behind him, grabbing a small brown bag and holding it out to you by its rolled opening. "But I brought you a croissant to make up for it."

Your eyebrows shot up when you saw the other bag, eyes widening in the least. "Coffee and food? Now there's definitely something up." You shot him a questioning look, and his obvious self-content didn't waver.

"Think of it as a "thank you'." Your skepticism far from dissipated, but something in the soft smile he wore made you take the bag from him with no further questions, a soft smile of your own gracing your lips.

You breathed in the warm, sweet air from the bag as you opened it, sighing at the smell of the croissant. As you broke a piece of it off, you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. "So anyway, where's your family? House seems eerily empty."

He chuckled, raking a hand through his loose curls. "Yeah, it is. My siblings are all still at school for the next couple hours, and Mom and Pops are out getting breakfast with the Lafayettes. Said something about wanting to 'give the happy couple some time to themselves'."

You rolled your eyes. "So no one else is home?"

"So we're finally alone." He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively, and you scoffed.

"Just 'cause you brought me a croissant doesn't mean I'm about to jump your bones, Hamilton. Don't get your hopes up," you informed him dryly, but his amused grin didn't waver.

"Since we have the day free, though," he continued just as brightly, ignoring your unimpressed expression, "I figured I'd show you around the town a little, take you a few of the places I used to go."

You raised a brow. "Oh, yeah? I'm getting the grand tour?" A smile had at that point worked it's way back into your expression, sitting slightly lopsided as it played at your lips, though you tried to contain it. "Where are you gonna take me, Hamilton?"

His grin grew at your words, taking another sip of his coffee to hide his self-content. "You'll see."

-----------------------------------

"Where are we going?" you groaned as he tugged you around another corner in the quaint downtown of his small city. His grin never faltered; he seemed very much to have a set agenda. There were people and places he wanted to see. Seeing as this was his family reunion weekend, you couldn't have blamed him.

"C'mon, we're on the block now," he assured you, pulling you along in his haste to find the little storefront, wondering if it had yet changed the aging display in its frosted glass windows. You scoffed audibly, and he let out a little laugh. "What, don't believe me?"

"You'll forgive me for not trusting the eighth time you've told me we were almost there," you said dryly, letting him pull you along regardless. He shot you a look over his shoulder.

"No need to exaggerate, princess."

"Don't think I haven't been counting, Hamilton," you shot back, giving him a pointed look, and he rolled his eyes.

"Just come on."

You (grudgingly) allowed him to drag you along three more blocks, unsure what had overtaken you -- your feet were getting sore, your stomach was starting to cramp (you needed to work out more), and you really just wanted to sit down. Yet, something about how earnestly excited Philip was managed to keep you going, just a few more yards, just a few more yards. You tried to ignore the lopsided grin thrown over his shoulder and the teasing lilt to his voice that met your complaints.

"Here we are." He skidded to a halt in front of three stairs, a stone stoop, leading up to a glass door. You raised an eyebrow, turned your gaze to him.

"Where, exactly?"

His smile grew, and he nodded forward. "See for yourself."

You rolled your eyes as you followed him up, and he reached for the handle just before you, holding it open. You didn't acknowledge the action, just continued forward into the small shop.

It was an adorable space, dimly lit and colorful. Leafy plants spilled over from pots above the windows, contrasting with the bright red window frames on the sunny morning, interspersed with framed photos and paintings packed tightly together on the limited wall space. Soft guitar music drifted through under the buzz of chattering customers who'd arrived for their morning coffee. You could smell the coffee brewing behind the counter, the scent mixing with the sweeter one wafting from the ovens behind a swinging door.

"C'mon." You yelped in surprise as Philip's arm found its way around your waist, and he shot you an amused glance. You let him lead you forward, though, fighting the heat that began to rise in the back of your neck.

You neared the back of the store together, your gaze still wandering around the adorable coffee shop as you walked, and as the woman behind the counter caught sight of you, her eyes lit up in recognition.

"Philip!" She dropped the rag she'd been wiping her hands with onto the counter, rushing out from behind it to greet him as his arm came back around from your waist, instead pulling her into a tight embrace. You sighed internally as his warmth left your side.

"Hey, Aunt Maria," he said, grinning as he pulled back from the hug. "How've you been?"

"Worse without you," she scolded, whacking his chest lightly. "It's been what, four years since you've been home? Felt like an eternity."

He laughed, eyes still shining as he spoke to her. "Yeah, it's been too long. I've just been so busy."

Maria scoffed and promptly turned her attention to you, clearly not caring for any excuses for Philip's absence. "And who is this?"

“I’m Y/N,” you started, your smile unsure. At this, Philip also turned his gaze back to where you stood, grin growing on his face. “His girlfriend.”

Her face lit up again at this, immediately pulling you into a bone-crushing embrace. "Oh, you're the pretty thing I've been hearing about from Philip's parents for so long? It's so great to meet you."

You laughed as she finally pulled away, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "I guess that must be me, unless there's another woman, hm?" You raised an eyebrow at Philip, grinning, and he just rolled his eyes. "It's good to meet you too, though."

Philip rested a hand on Maria's shoulder as she released your forearms, an affectionate look in his eyes as he glanced down at her. "Aunt Maria's an old family friend, Y/N. Pops helped her out of a tough spot when I was younger, and we’ve forced her to stick around with us ever since."

She smiled, putting a hand on his as she looked over at you. "I owe the Hamiltons big. They really changed my life a while back, helped me get away from my ex-husband, start a new life on my own. Can't thank them enough, honestly."

Philip rolled his eyes at that, giving a dramatic huff. "You owe us nothing. You’re all we need."

"Then stop spending so much time in the city!" she lectured him, giving a shell of a glare, and he laughed.

"I'll keep it in mind."

She glanced back at the counter over her shoulder, where her employees were still diligently taking orders, making coffee. "Anyway, I've gotta get back to work, but can I get you two a cup of coffee? Donuts? Crêpes?"

Philip looked at you as he came back around, pulled you softly to his side with an arm around your waist and a raised eyebrow. You gave Maria a warm smile.

"Just a coffee would be great."

"Same for me, then," Philip added, and Maria winked at the two of you as she made her way back to the counter.

"Two coffees coming right up for the happy couple. Feel free to have a seat anywhere," she called to you over her shoulder, and you grinned.

"Wanna sit down?" Philip asked, and you pursed your lips, pinching the hand that was squeezing your waist. He yelped, withdrew his arm from you with a wince, and you nodded and gave an easy smile.

"Let's go by the window."

He rolled his eyes as he followed you. You slid comfortably into one of the smooth wooden seats, glancing out at the sunny morning before you, and he sat across, an eyebrow raised.

"So, what do you think of my hometown so far?"

You looked back at him wearing a soft, mischievous smile and cocked an eyebrow at him. "You really wanna know?"

He fixed his stare on yours, and your grin grew (though you tried to suppress it). "Yeah."

"It'd be better without you here."

He scoffed loudly at that, turning his head from where he had sat facing you, his grin near indistinguishable in his indignant expression, and you couldn't suppress your full-bodied laugh at his reaction.

"C'mon, really?" While he tried to maintain his scowl, turning back to you had his smile widening at your repressed giggles. He fixed a glare over his gaze as you tried to swallow your grin. "God damn, I ask you a legitimate question, and you can't resist ripping on me?"

"It was just too easy!" you defended, brushing your hair away from your face as you looked sheepishly back at where he sat, shaking his head. "Honestly, though?"

"I dunno, am I gonna get an honest answer?"

You knew very well his skeptical expression was well-earned, and you grinned, rolling your eyes as you defended yourself. "Yes!"

He shrugged, motioning to the space between you, a silent go-ahead. You sighed.

"It's really nice." You glanced around the coffee shop as you spoke, your eyes ultimately finding his again, though now a dreamy look was painted across your features. "It's... homey."

"'Homey'?" he repeated your answer with a breathy laugh, and you rolled your eyes, playfully shoving the arm he had resting on the table.

"See, this is why I don't take your questions seriously, Hamilton," you scowled, feeling your face begin to grow hot at his reaction. "Give you an answer and you just make fun of me."

He chuckled as he reached for your hands, still resting on the table as the heat did not subside from the back of your neck. He took them in his, enveloping them as he gave you a simper. "Aw, c'mon, I'm not trying to tease you." His simper turned to a mocking pout, and you scoffed, rolled your eyes.

"Oh, whatever, Hamilton." You didn't pull your hands out of his grasp, though, refusing out of sheer spite to meet his eyes.

"I'm not kidding!" he defended himself, and you could see out of the corner of your eye the grin return to his face, seemingly entertained by your reaction. You were a bit preoccupied, though, with inhibiting the blush from your cheeks as you couldn't seem to focus on anything other than, God, how warm his hands were. You were painstakingly aware of every time they shifted against yours.

"'M glad you feel at home in my old town." Your annoyed gaze was still fixed on the table before you as you heard him let out a sigh, dropping his face to break your line of vision. "Princess?"

"Don't call me that, Hamilton."

He deadpanned. "Y/N."

You met his eyes with an expectant look, and for a moment, you just held his stare, almost didn't notice when your breath caught as the corners of his lips quirked upward. You frowned.

His grin only grew at your adverse reaction, breath coming out in a puff of laughter. He shook his head, tongue in cheek. "Loosen up."

The way he squeezed your hands reminded you how close the proximity between the two of you was. You could feel your heart jump in your chest. When his thumb smoothed over your knuckle, you felt suddenly very self-conscious about how sweaty your hands were.

You took a deep breath, feeling unable to hold his gaze any longer, looking out the window beside you. Thankfully, Maria chose that exact moment to arrive with your drinks.

"Two black coffees, right up!" You froze when you met her beaming expression, flinching as you almost tried to yank your hands from Philip's, feeling like a deer in headlights. He squeezed your hands softly, his expression concerned at how panicked you looked. You plastered on a smile, reminding yourself as your face heated up that you were there as his girlfriend, this was supposed to be normal, it was expected. What made you uncomfortable was exactly how normal it felt.

"Thanks, Maria." You withdrew your hands with a smile to take your coffee from her. You ignored her raised eyebrow, her pleased half-smile.

"You sure there's nothing else I can get you?" The maternal look in her eyes turned playful as she folded her arms. "Anything else to drink? Some lunch?" Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. "Some privacy?"

You choked on the long sip of coffee you'd been taking, trying to catch your breath as Philip just laughed. You set the mug down as you coughed into the back of your hand, trying to stifle it.

"I think this'll be all for now," he said, "We probably aren't gonna loiter too much longer, don't worry."

Maria gave him a warm smile, a smile you only caught a glimpse of as you emerged from your coughing fit. (You also caught a glimpse of Philip suppressing a laugh at you, and made a mental note to chew him out for it later on.)

"You know you could spend forever here and I wouldn't mind."

"I know." You couldn't help but notice that his smile in return didn't quite meet his eyes; something melancholy lay behind them as well.

As she pursed her lips, you thought her expression looked quite a bit like your mother's when you left for college, almost tearing up, but holding it together for you. "Well, let me know before you all leave," she said softly, "You know I don't see enough of you around here as is."

"I know. We'll see you tomorrow, though? At the reunion?"

"Wouldn't miss it." The quiet sadness in her eyes disappeared as quickly as it came, and she reached down to squeeze your shoulder affectionately. "Looking forward to seeing the both of you there." Her wink before she turned away was blatant. You couldn't help your soft smile.

------------------------------

"So, when do I get to meet the rest of your family?" He'd taken you out through the middle of town, refusing to let on to your destination. It was a nice day out, luckily for you, but you still weren't fond of having to reach all your destinations on foot -- if you'd wanted a walking tour, you'd have asked.

He shrugged, hands in his pockets as he walked alongside you down the sidewalk, appreciating the lush greenery that lined the streets, and your gaze rested on his faraway expression as you raised an eyebrow.

"Dunno. Whenever my siblings get home. Angie'll be coming in before they all get outta school, so she might even be there when we get back, but the rest of them have classes for a few more hours."

"'The rest of them'? How many siblings do you have, Hamilton?"

"Just six."

"Six?!" you repeated, eyes wide, and he just nodded.

"Yeah. The youngest is four, that's Eliza, and I'm the oldest."

"How old are the others?"

He pursed his lips, as though deep in thought, and you really couldn't imagine having to strain to remember a sibling's age. "There's William, at seven, then John, who's eleven, James is fifteen and Alex is seventeen -- they're the ones in high school right now -- and then there's Angelica, who's nineteen."

You couldn't help but let out a low whistle at that. "Sounds exhausting for your parents."

"Really. I was the easy child, and it was all downhill from there." He grinned, and you rolled your eyes.

"You were the easy child? Tell me why I find that hard to believe." Your challenging tone just made him shrug.

"Dunno, princess. I've just always been so responsible that my parents had an easy time with me."

"And at what point did you lose the responsibility trait?"

"I mean, when I found out I could pawn off all my responsibilities onto you..." He trailed off with a grin, laughing when he saw your glare. "Aw, c'mon, I'm just kidding."

"What, about being responsible? Or about pawning your responsibilities off on me?" You raised a skeptical eyebrow as he shrugged. "Because we both know it's not the latter."

"Hey, let's not forget that you're here because you didn't wanna take on a responsibility."

"A responsibility you pawned off on me!" You scoffed, and his amused smile only grew, hands stuffed in his pockets as you walked alongside him.

"Why must you be so focused on pointing fingers, Y/N?"

"I'm not pointing fingers, you just--"

"We're here." You skidded to a halt as he cut off your rant at it's beginning, too absorbed in your argument (despite how obviously he was baiting you) to have realized he stopped walking. You raised an eyebrow, turning to face exactly what he was looking at, and while he began walking in without a second thought, you paused a moment, taking it in.

What stood before you was the oldest building you'd seen so far in town, its structure essentially in ruins, ivy crawling up the eroding brick, moss running down it. The only thing that tipped you off to the fact that you weren't being lead to a remote location where no one could hear your screams was a small metal sign above a descending staircase, a single light above the path. By the time the full sight had processed, Philip had since reached the staircase and was watching your reaction with an eyebrow raised, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"You coming?"

You exhaled. "See, I'm not trying to make any accusations, but all I'm saying is that if I were to murder someone in this town, this would be the place for it."

You followed him, though, as he grinned at your hesitance, and what you found at the bottom of the staircase was far from what you'd expected. You entered behind Philip into a sleek but old-fashioned bar, somehow teetering on the line between an antiquated tavern and a nightclub. Your eyes were wide as you scanned the place, empty at the moment, save one person standing behind the bar, wiping down glasses. The chairs were up on the tables, the televisions were shut down -- you assumed Philip hadn't brought you there for drinks, but instead for the handsome stranger who had just caught Philip's eye with a growing grin.

"Philip Hamilton?" he called out the moment the door shut behind us, his disbelieving smile echoed in Philip's reaction. "Never thought I'd see the day. Thought you'd abandoned us all for city living by now."

Philip let out a huff of laughter as he reached the counter, pulling the man in for a hug over the bar. "Whatever, man. I don't wanna hear it." He pulled back with a skeptical look in his eye, holding him by the forearms. "It's been two years since I've been home, but I've never gone three damn months without seeing you since college."

"Touché. It's good to have you back." With that, though, the man's gaze flickered over to you, eyeing your form with an eyebrow raised, a small but triumphant smile. "But you've still managed to keep your lady from me ever since you and her got together. Afraid I was gonna steal her?"

"More afraid she'd meet my friends and immediately run for the hills," Philip snorted, causing the other man to shove him lightly from across the counter.

"Anyway, I take it you're Y/N?" He seemed to be ignoring Philip's jab at him in favor of redirecting the conversation from him.

"That'd be me," you said as you went to join Philip, smile wary and your hands tucked in your pockets.

When you reached the bar, he narrowed his eyes, leaning down to eye you skeptically. "Tell me, how much is Philip paying you? Hm?" Your eyebrows shot up, and he continued, "I mean, we both know he has the money to be battin' above his league, but I didn't think he'd be willing to fork over that much just for a weekend."

While his manner had you hesitant at first, his words made you laugh. If this was what Philip's friends were like, the weekend might go by quicker than you'd expected.

"This is actually pro bono," you sighed, raising your eyebrows as though you were confiding in him. "I've always been a bit of a philanthropist, so I took pity and decided to help out the less fortunate--" You gave Philip a pointed look, though he just rolled his eyes. His entertained smile betrayed his feigned annoyance. "--for a few days."

"You really are a saint."

"I consider myself more of a martyr." While his friend laughed, Philip raised an eyebrow at you, expression toeing the line between amused and exasperated. You extended your hand. "It's great to meet you, though, um..."

"Georges Lafayette," he supplied, shaking your hand. "I'm an old friend."

"Ahh, so that's you," you folded your arms, smile growing. You stole a glance to your right, and Philip was busy feigning shock that you'd actually listened to his friends-and-family crash course. When he met your gaze, you rolled your eyes. "Philip speaks fondly of you, regardless of how he may speak to you." There was a teasing lilt to the tail end of your sentence, and while Philip scoffed, Georges cracked a grin.

"Hope he's been doing me justice." He sent you a wink as he went back to wiping down the rims of the glasses that sat before him, pulling them from the dishwasher and shelving them. "Knowing him, I'm betting it's nothing compared to how he talks about you, though. Ever since you joined his office, it's been nonstop."

"Oh, really?" You raised an eyebrow at Philip, but he didn't meet your eyes as he took a seat next to you at the bar.

"You'd better bet. You've become something of a household name these past few years."

"Should that worry me?" you teased, electing to sit as well. You hopped up onto the barstool.

"Not this time." He chuckled, nudging Philip where he sat, leaning forward on the bar. "Worried me at the start of the whole thing. I figured he'd immediately fucked this up." He motioned between the two of you. "By the time you got together, I'd already found him three eligible rebounds."

"Aww, babe." You plastered on a teasingly contrived pout, turning to rest a hand on Philip's knee, meeting his unimpressed gaze. "Maybe if you hadn't spent three years pawning your responsibilities off on me, I would've been more receptive to your total lack of tact."

Georges laughed, and you grinned unabashedly as Philip let out a huff devoid of annoyance. "Oh, c'mon; let's not pretend I was the tactless one." The corner of his lips twitched as you raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"Really, now, be honest." You hadn't the slightest clue where this was going, and Philip looked increasingly satisfied with your expression. "You were the one always yelling at me for leaving early, chewing me out for showing up late, finding excuses to come talk to me--"

"We work together," you interjected, unimpressed. Your words didn't seem to hinder his monologue.

"Now that I think about it, is that why you always looked so agitated when Theo came around?" He raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly pleased, and you ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck. You chalked it up to annoyance. “I’ve gotta say, jealousy actually is a good look on you.”

"Whatever," you scoffed. "I had to come to talk to you about the projects I was working on because they were the ones you pawned off onto me. And you know Theo has been obnoxious since day one."

He laughed, disregarding your vexation. "I mean, yeah, but she brings me coffee."

You narrowed your eyes, genuinely in disbelief. "Is the fact that you're just using her for coffee supposed to make me feel better?"

"Of course." He shrugged, as though it was obvious, and you caught Georges's amused expression out of the corner of your eye. Philip winked. "You know I've only got eyes for you, princess." You groaned, turning away from him in your chair, not wanting to look at the satisfaction you caught dancing in his eyes. You didn't like how consoled you felt.

You turned to Georges, deadpan. "Has he always been this unbearable? Or did that develop after the manipulative streak kicked in?"

"In our Philip? What manipulative streak?" He furrowed his brow in contrived disbelief. The two men shared a look, their smiles mirroring one another. "But if you wanna know if he's always been this tactful, then for sure."

It appeared Georges had decided to take Philip's side on this one. You groaned internally. "Don't you start now!"

"Sorry, Y/N, Philip claimed my loyalty years ago. You're on your own."

You pinned the pair of them with an accusatory stare, a smile playing on your lips nonetheless. You didn't love that it was turned against you, but you couldn't help but find their rapport entertaining. "You two are insufferable, you know that?"

"We've heard." Georges shrugged.

"Usually from each other," Philip chimed in.

"Or your siblings." Georges glanced at Philip. Neither of them was addressing you anymore.

"Or your ladies," Philip shot back, "Usually your exes by the time we heard it."

"We were always a little hard of hearing, huh?"

"Always. Think we heard that one from Emilie, though." Philip raised his eyebrows, gaze playful. You could only assume that was one of Georges's exes. He huffed.

"You leave my wife outta this!" Indignant was the only word you could use to describe his expression, and Philip snickered as he ducked away from the rag Georges had tried to hit him with.

"You're still lucky she took you back after that."

"She loved me too much not to." He looked smug with that, but his voice had softened. "Anyway, it's your girl we're talking about this time, so you'd better tread carefully. Right, Y/N?" He looked over at you, an eyebrow raised, obviously expecting you to jump on the chance to tease Philip. You folded your arms.

"Oh, so now you're on my side?"

Philip grinned, obviously pleased with your response, whereas Georges groaned. "Hey, I'm tryna balance the scales back out, alright? Didn't wanna let Philip get too cocky, but it looks like you let that one happen anyway."

"Don't you blame me!" You jabbed your finger at him, eyes narrowed. "You took his side first; I didn't take his side at all!"

"Sure seems like you're on his side now." Georges raised his eyebrows at Philip, who looked positively smug.

"I'm against you now. This isn't about him."

He laughed. "Tough. Looks like your girl's already cutting you out, Pip."

Philip's face fell as he grumbled, "Don't call me--"

"You call him Pip?" You hoped your expression came off as endeared. Blatantly finding ways to antagonize him didn't seem like it would've fit your role. "That's adorable!"

"Y/N." His tone was warning. Your grin didn't falter.

"Oh, can I steal that?"

"All yours."

You let out a soft aww, a hand held to your heart, and put your other hand on Georges's forearm. "I can't thank you enough."

Philip stood with a huff, seemingly having had enough of you two. You raised an eyebrow -- were you leaving already? "I'm gonna run to the bathroom," he said, annoyed gaze never breaking from Georges's. "Don't cause too much trouble while I'm gone."

"I dunno, Pip; I was never the responsible one." Georges shrugged innocently, and Philip couldn't seem to help his amusement at his antics. "Do my best, though."

"Can't thank you enough," Philip mocked you to Georges as he turned, walking off toward the back.

Georges called after him, "You're welcome!"

Philip didn't respond, but Georges seemed more amused given that. He turned to you with a grin, leaning on the bar.

"So, Y/N." You raised an eyebrow. "I need to hear more about you; Philip's been holding out on us all these years. Took the entire family to even convince him to bring you home to meet us."

"Then I guess I shouldn't mention how long it took him to convince me to come here, huh?" The words were truer than he knew; however, he interpreted them very differently from the truth. You raised a playful eyebrow, and he laughed.

"That's tough."

"You asked."

"Sort of," he corrected you, brow furrowed, and you grinned.

"No, but really," you started, deciding to actually explain yourself. "We've just been busy, couldn't find a time to get down here together."

"Oh yeah? Been getting a little too busy down in NYC?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and you rolled your eyes with a huff.

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" You swatted at his arm, coaxing a laugh from him. "Our schedules just didn't line up. We never had the same weeks or weekends free to get out of the city."

"So this is your first time traveling together?"

"Guess so."

"Try not to kill him before the weekend's up." He winked. You kept quiet; Georges didn't need to know quite how high the odds of that happening really were. "But really, enough about him. Where are you from? Where'd you go to school? When are you and Philip getting married?"

You ignored the last question altogether, knowing that reacting to it one way or another would only encourage him. "I'm from the west coast. I was born just outside of LA, moved later on to Chicago, and then came to New York City for college."

"Yeah? What made you choose NYC?"

"My ex, actually."

"Oh, really?" He looked surprised at that tidbit of information, and you tried to just shrug it off. "Must've been pretty serious then, huh?"

"It was." He noticed how quiet you went at that, and he didn't press the point, deciding instead to change the subject.

"So Philip must've been a pretty good rebound?" He nudged you, wiggling his eyebrows, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"He..." You paused, considering how you were supposed to respond to that. "He's definitely exceeded expectations, to be perfectly honest."

"Hmm, I dunno how good that sounds, Y/N." He raised a skeptical eyebrow, small smile playing at his lips. "How low, exactly, were your expectations?"

You pursed your lips, but your amusement betrayed you. You hadn't expected to be called out on the truth behind your statement. Your gaze dropped to the bar before you, and you drummed your fingers on the varnished wood. You shrugged. "Not that low."

He let out a snort of laughter. "What an absolutely glowing review. I'll be sure to let him know."

"Hey, don't you betray me like this!"

"I've made it clear where my loyalties lie." He held up his hands in mock surrender. "In all seriousness, though, why were your expectations so low?"

Again, you were unsure of how much to reveal. "Let's just say that Philip isn't much for first impressions."

"Really?" His surprise appeared genuine, before he tilted his head to the side, considering it, and shrugged. "I guess, with you, that shouldn't surprise me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You folded your arms, needing more information before you could decide whether you were offended. He saw your furrowed brow and grinned.

"I don't mean that as a bad thing. Honest." He paused, considering himself, and you raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. He leaned onto the bar, and he spoke matter-of-factly, beginning to explain. "So, Philip's always been good with people. And he's definitely never had any problems with girls. He was in and out of casual relationships all through high school and college just for the hell of it."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Really?" The disbelief in your voice was blatant, and he cracked a smile.

"Yeah, he actually did have some tact, once upon a time. Was a charming kid; I never could figure out how he did it." He shook his head, amusement in his eyes. "But... well, when something matters to him -- or someone -- he goes looking for advice, and everyone else's input just ends up shaking him up. Think I mighta given him advice about you once or twice, so I guess you have me to thank for that."

For a moment, you were stunned. You swallowed, trying not to get too caught up in your head with the information he’d shared, but given its nature, it was hard not to overthink. You tried to match his lighthearted expression. "And what advice would you have given him?"

"Well, five years ago..." He squinted ever-so-slightly as he considered your question. A silent laugh slowly etched itself into his features. "Y'know what, it doesn't matter. Just trust me when I tell you, it was bad advice."

"Georges!"

"Seriously, you don't wanna know." You glared at him, leaning onto the bar where you sat. "I'm sorry to leave you hangin', but I promise, telling you helps no one."

You huffed as you slumped back in your seat. "Are you that bad at relationship advice?"

"Worse than what you're imagining," he assured you, and you shook your head, exasperated.

"How in the world are you married?" The question was a joke, but despite his chuckle, his answer wasn't.

"I think some things are just meant to happen." You raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, wearing a small smile. "Seriously, I was an absolute fool in college -- and I mean that -- but no matter how many times I fucked up with Emilie, she always ended up back in my life. It was usually just coincidence. We were taking the same classes; we had the same advisor; we were on the same subway through town; our dorm rooms were right across from each other.

"And honestly? She kinda hated me at some point, but we kept being thrown together, and we got to know each other pretty well. Call me crazy, but it felt like fate." The distant look in his eyes shifted to something akin to entertainment, after that. "Similar thing happened with Philip, actually."

"Really? When?" You were genuinely invested by that point.

"Junior year of high school." He nodded to himself, thinking back with a grin. "Yeah, that was a hell of a time. Like, one week in, Philip and I had this huge fight. Don't even remember what it was about, but it had us really heated."

"Honestly, I can't imagine you two fighting," you said, and he gave a shrug, his smile agreeable.

"Nah, not anymore, not like that, but we were teenagers," he said, as though that entirely explained it. "But I was only supposed to have one class with him that year, so he tried to switch out of it to get away from me. They ended up having to remake his schedule so he was in every other class with me. Poor kid couldn't escape it, but if it wasn't for some underpaid high-school administrator, we probably wouldn't be friends."

"Sounds like you have a lot of luck," you said, and he grinned.

"That's just it, though." He pinned you with a thoughtful look. "Was it luck, or was it just meant to turn out that way?"

You considered it for a moment. His stories did sound like the longest odds imaginable, but when you thought about your own life, you couldn't help but hope he was delusional. You'd had more than your fair share of bad luck in your life, and once upon a time, it had driven away almost everything you cared about. You didn't like to think that your misery could just have been some cruel twist of fate.

You opened your mouth to respond, uncertain, but Philip had apparently chosen that moment to re-emerge, inadvertently cutting you off.

"Speak of the devil!" Georges called out, his grin wide, and Philip eyed you both skeptically.

"You two are still talking about me?"

Georges glanced at you, and you told him, "I'm hearing all about your high school years."

Philip groaned. "Oh, c'mon man, what are you telling her?"

"We just covered your junior-year mullet and your fez-wearing phase," he informed him, meeting your eyes with a playful smile. "I was just about to fill her in on when you joined the bowling team in our senior year, but--"

"Alright, that's enough outta you." Georges shot you a conspiratory wink as Philip cut him off, though neither you nor Philip could hide your amusement. He, however, tried to play it off as annoyance. "Sounds like we're gonna need to get out of here before you get to the highlights of college."

"Aw, but Pip, I'm learning so much," you pouted, and he looked mildly exasperated as he met your eyes.

"That's what concerns me." Georges laughed while you groaned, and Philip's smile reappeared as he took a seat to your right.

"Then just wait'll I tell her about middle school."

---------------------------------

The rest of your evening was a whirlwind. Having grown up with only an older brother, you hadn't realized quite how many six siblings were -- that changed quickly. You really couldn't believe Angelica had managed to grow up with five brothers without losing her mind. Family dinner stretched on into the night, chaotic to the brink of your comfort zone. You found yourself enjoying it much more than you'd expected to, however. The Hamiltons were as lively as they were numerous, and you couldn't help but laugh along.

"But you were the one who got the room alone!" It took an hour or two, but you'd gotten Philip's siblings' names down. That was James, the younger high-schooler, yelling across the table at Angelica, who made a face.

"I was a seventeen-year-old girl! I couldn't keep sharing a room with my younger brothers!" she shot back, "You scared away three of my boyfriends! Three!"

"You never had to bring them up to our room, but you wanted some alone time with them." It was John, the eleven-year-old, who chimed in this time, making kissy sounds at Angelica who just mocked him.

"I had a right to some privacy!" she shot back. You didn't remember how they'd wandered down this line of discussion, but it seemed to be an impassioned one. Alex Jr. scoffed loudly.

"Hey, I'm seventeen, and I don't have my own room," he interjected, glaring down the table at their dad. "This is a double standard!"

"We have a toddler in the house; grow up," Alex Sr. sighed, which only seemed to further upset Alex Jr.

"Hey, William was Eliza's age when Ang was my age! That's not fair!"

"It doesn't matter; you aren't getting any girls anyway." The sneer came from John.

"Hey, I'm getting plenty--"

"Oh, yeah? Where are they?"

"I haven't brought them home because you can't seem to--"

"Boys! Relax!" Eliza did her best to quell the growing argument, but it seemed to be to little avail. Alex put a hand on her shoulder with a suppressed laugh as she huffed, clearly exasperated.

"Don't make this about me! I'm an incredible roommate!"

"Have you seen our bathroom lately?"

"Come on," Angelica groaned, her annoyance getting lost in the growing cacophony. John was shouting now, leaning over the table at his brother, and you jumped in your seat when James yelled back, deciding it was now his place to join the conversation.

You didn't realize you had grabbed Philip's forearm in your startled fit until he broke your train of thought.

"Alright, princess?"

Your head whipped toward him, surprised to see him leaning in to talk to you, and he looked thoroughly amused by your reaction. You released his arm from your grasp, giving him a sheepish smile. "Your family really is something."

"Believe me now that I was the easy child?" he asked, and you let out a snort of laughter, gaze falling back to his family.

"There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you were like this ten years ago."

"Hurtful," he scoffed, mocking offense, and you just shrugged, smile growing.

"They had to learn it somewhere."

"It was all Angelica."

"I'm sure."

The woman in question broke the wall of noise at almost exactly that moment, raising her head from her hands. "This is exactly why I needed my own room!" That just turned the younger boys into a united front against her, and she looked to Philip with a sigh. "I'm starting to understand why you waited so long to bring Y/N home."

"No idea what you could be referring to. They're so charismatic!" Philip shrugged, plastering on over-exaggerated confusion, seemingly just to get a rise out of his sister. She rolled her eyes with a groan; it appeared to be working. She turned to you.

"Please don't run for the hills just because our younger brothers are absolute monsters," she said, gaze pleading as she reached for your hand. You smiled, amused despite yourself. "We really need some sanity in this family. I can't take family dinners being just me with six boys."

"Aw, Angie, are you saying I'm not one of the absolute monsters?" Philip interjected with a pout. "I'm touched, really."

You and Angelica both rolled your eyes at his antics. It was then that you decided you liked her.

You leaned over the table toward where her hand was desperately clutching yours. "You've got me for the rest of the weekend, but I'm not sure I can promise more."

She groaned exaggeratedly, and Philip nudged you lightly in the side, grinning mischievously. "What, don't you love my family so far?"

His words were teasing, but your soft smile as you looked back at the people surrounding him was anything but. "I do, actually."

When you met his eyes again, his gaze was softer, grin less pronounced. "Good."

The table had slowly grown quieter throughout your interaction, and it seemed you'd held Philip's gaze for just a moment too long, and you turned to see the entire family watching the two of you. You felt your face heat up, took a sip of your water. From then, there was silence, until a grinning William decided to break it.

He'd been quiet for the majority of the meal, so it surprised you when he turned to you, eyes shining. "So, Y/N," he addressed you, tone businesslike.

"I think we've spent enough time questioning Y/N already," Philip interjected before he could continue, resting a near-protective hand on your arm. You cast him a grateful look.

"C'mon, humor him," James said, his grin matching William's. "It's hardly eight; we have plenty of time."

"We started dinner at five." Philip sounded unamused.

"We haven't spent that whole time interrogating her," he defended, and Philip gave him a pointed look. James turned to you. "Right, Y/N?"

While you sighed playfully, playing up your exasperation, you really didn't mind it. You'd never had a family like this before. "I suppose not."

"Anyway," William interjected, looking as stern as a seven-year-old could. You pursed your lips, fighting back a laugh as you folded your hands and leaned toward him, mirroring his expression. "Y/N."

"William." You did your best to imitate his tone.

"When are you and Pip going to have a baby?"

Your eyes widened immediately, and your mouth fell open in shock, if only for a moment. Philip groaned beside you, leaning back in his chair, and you could hear his parents laughing at the end of the table. Some of his siblings looked exasperated; others waited eagerly for your answer.

"Well, um..." You trailed off as you glanced at Philip desperately, hoping he'd shut his family down so you didn't have to. He hadn't yet seemed to have recovered. Your face was burning as you tried to continue. "We aren't married, so not anytime soon, but--"

"When are you getting married?" William pressed, seemingly unaffected by everyone's reactions to his words. You leaned forward, had to take a sip of your drink to hide your surprised laugh.

"Sorry to say it, but right now, we don't know that we are getting married, so I'll have to get back to you on that question." You gave him an apologetic smile before you looked back at Philip, eyes wide. This was territory you didn't think you'd have to cover. He just shook his head and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' He appeared wholly exhausted.

"Surely you've talked about it before, though, haven't you?" It was the older Alex who chimed in that time, hesitant. Eliza gave him a look. "I mean, getting married, having kids and all that. You've been together for two years; you must have considered it at some point."

"Pops," Philip said through gritted teeth, the word carrying an unsaid warning.

"What? I'm just curious," he defended, despite Eliza swatting his shoulder. He raised his hands in mock surrender as he glanced at her, eyes wide. "If you haven't, it's fine. I don't mean to rush you kids into anything, but I just wanted to know."

By then, though she sighed, you could see Eliza looking at the two of you hopefully. The whole table fell silent, expecting an answer you didn't have. "It's just... not something we've taken into consideration at this point. We aren't really set on making decisions about that anytime soon."

"Do you want kids, though?" Angelica asked you, and Philip sighed. Like you, he'd hoped the topic would fall away after your weak explanation. You hesitated, not sure whether giving them a legitimate answer would only egg them on. Ultimately, you shrugged.

"I mean, personally? Yeah, probably at some point," you offered, playing nervously with the edge of your napkin. You didn't want to look at Philip. "The whole 'settling down and starting a family' thing is something I've kind of always pictured"

"Is it more appealing now that you see how great having a big family is for us?" Alex Jr. asked, words saturated with sarcasm. You laughed as he grinned exaggeratedly, gesturing to everyone down the table.

"I know you're joking and all, but I really wouldn't mind this being my day-by-day."

"Really?" Philip chose that moment to finally interject, an eyebrow raised, and you nodded, feeling suddenly defensive.

"I mean, yeah." You shrugged, shoulders tense. "What, wouldn't you?"

"I would.” His lips quirked as he sat forward in his chair once again. “But, honestly, I didn’t think this was your style.”

"I'm not totally set on anything, but..." You didn't elaborate further. Confessing to him the future you wanted had you feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. His smile was soft as he faintly nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners.

There was a pregnant pause before Alex Sr. spoke.

"I guess now you've talked about it."

------------------------------------

Dinner ended much later than it needed to, and afterward, they just herded you into their living room. It seemed that now since they all had you in front of them, they were going to take advantage of the opportunity to ask you anything and everything about yourself and your love life (with a focus on Philip, of course). You did your best to field the seemingly endless barrage of questions, and though it took you a while, you finally figured out how to deflect the more uncomfortable ones onto Philip. It wasn't until you yawned -- rather loudly, too -- that the conversation reached any sort of stopping point.

"Tired, princess?" Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, lightly squeezing your side, and you sighed, not having enough energy to push back on the pet name.

"Little bit," you mumbled, a weary smile still adorning your lips. He chuckled, and you couldn't help but lean into his embrace, feeling more drained than anything, and rested your head on his shoulder.

"You two should head up and get some sleep," Eliza said. The look in her eyes as you met her gaze was affectionate. You didn't notice your smile growing.

"I second that. You look exhausted, Y/N," Alex added, looking to you and Philip sympathetically.

You chuckled at that, and you couldn't help the lazy sarcasm that leaked into your voice as you responded, "Thanks, Mr. Hamilton; glad to hear it."

"Alex," he corrected you, his smile kind. He didn't seem to take any offense at your tone; instead, amusement danced in his eyes, and you nodded, matching his expression.

"Alex."

You couldn't decide whether the warm feeling in your chest as you bid everyone goodnight, letting Philip lead you to the stairs, was the result of your fatigue, the merlot Eliza had offered you around seven (and then three more times in the hours that followed), or if it just came from being around his family. It had to be some combination of the three, but you had a sneaking suspicion it leaned mainly toward the latter.

The two of you walked in easy silence, you still reminiscing on everything that had happened that day, everyone you'd met, and you didn't notice Philip watching you as you hung onto the railing to your left. You weren't in any sort of headspace for vigilant observation. Instead, you were fixated fondly on his family. It was never an environment you'd been in, so rowdy and energetic, but tender and caring all the while. You'd been dreading this weekend -- seriously, you spent about an hour on the drive down drowning out Philip's soliloquy, spaced out and wondering whether it was too late to just turn around and dump him off on the side of the road. (Patsy wouldn't have even questioned it when you arrived home.) The past however-many-hours, though, almost since you'd just woken up, had you questioning a number of assumptions you'd made, and not just about the family reunion.

You stumbled over one of the last stairs as you lost yourself in your train of thought. Your eyes snapped wide open; your grip on the railing tightened. Just as you felt yourself beginning to tip backward, you found yourself in Philip's arms, his grip on your waist steadying you as he looked down at you, amused.

"You alright?" The air hadn't yet returned to your lungs; your pseudo-crisis must have begun and ended in under a second, and you stared up at him blankly. You blinked, just beginning to process your surroundings.

Catching your breath was more of a struggle than it should've been, however. All you could discern was the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your skin, the feeling of his breath on your neck as he looked down at you. You weren't even that close together, but clinging to his arms for what seemed like dear life had you feeling mildly defenseless. You couldn't miss the growing concern in his eyes.

"Yeah," you breathed as you realized you'd let the silence stretch on too long, long enough for Philip to question it. Being tired (and gravitating toward wine-tipsy) must have just heightened the panic in your system, must have slowed your reaction time. Another beat passed, and you finally pulled yourself upright, taking a deep breath as you continued up the last couple of stairs and down the hallway. Philip's concern didn't dissipate as he came up after you, but your mind was elsewhere.

You had to promise yourself to keep from drinking the next day, feeling exasperated with yourself as you couldn't seem to collect your thoughts. He caught up to you as you entered his room, and pulled the door shut behind him with an eyebrow raised. You didn't see him watching you, a silent question in his gaze, as you dragged yourself over to your suitcase.

You turned around after pulling your pajamas out and froze when you met his eyes. "What?"

He pursed his lips. "You sure you're okay?"

"Of course," you reassured him, giving a weary smile. "I'm just tired; don't worry."

You didn't let yourself ponder any longer, and though you could see your answer hadn't quite appeased him, you ignored it. The room was quiet as you both picked through your suitcases, brushed past each other entering and exiting the bathroom. You were both more than ready to get some sleep.

Just before you were about to climb into bed, you paused, unable to help your drifting gaze. Philip was still in the adjacent bathroom, brushing his teeth, and you glanced back at him. Considering the circumstances, briefly vetting his room felt like fair game.

Your eyes scanned the walls, noting the different posters he still had hung up, appearing to all be from different times in his life -- some were much more worn than others, and you couldn't imagine he'd been anxiously awaiting the new Scooby-Doo movie anytime recently. You wandered over to the desk, the corners of your mouth twitching up into a small smile as you noticed the books and pictures stacked high on the surface. Your fingertips brushed against one photo, and your gaze fell to it, seeing Philip and three other people all in party hats, their celebration frozen in time.

You could hear his footsteps stall behind you as you poked into his belongings, but it didn't discourage you.

"When's this from?" you asked, turning to him with the polaroid you'd uncovered. He chuckled as he walked over, plucking the picture from your hand.

"Eighteenth birthday party," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners as he eyed the photograph. He turned his gaze back to you with a small smile. "You're actually gonna meet all the people in this photo this weekend, assuming they all show up."

You raised an eyebrow, stifling a yawn as you took a seat on the perfectly made bed a few feet in front of him. "What, couldn't get anyone but family to celebrate your eighteenth with you?"

"Hardly." He hummed, ignoring the aim behind the insult. "My dad lost most of his family when he was young, though, so while you'll meet all of Mom's family this weekend, Pop's is all just his friends who he's adopted into the family, and then their families. These three are his friends' kids who I grew up with," he said, motioning again to the photograph.

"That's sweet," you said softly, pushing yourself further up the bed, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Hmm?"

"That your dad chose this entirely new family, I mean." He shrugged, walking over to join you on the bed.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, "Never really thought much of it, I guess." He paused, eyeing you with a raised eyebrow where you sat. "What's your family like? You don't talk about them much."

You pursed your lips. "Small."

"Yeah?" He took a seat next to you after pulling himself onto the bed. Your skin jumped as the outside of his thigh rested against yours, his hip less than an inch away, and you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You nodded, swallowing hard as a soft smile grew on your lips.

"Just me, my parents and my brother."

"That's it?" He looked surprised at your explanation, and you just shrugged. "What about cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles?"

"Two aunts, no grandparents, no cousins."

"Really," he sighed, seemingly still in disbelief. A teasing grin worked its way onto his face as he elbowed you lightly. "So I won't be going to any family reunions in the L/N household anytime soon, then, huh?"

You laughed despite yourself. "Doesn't look like it. The closest we ever get is when my brother and I are together in NYC and Mom and Dad drive up to meet us for a couple days. Not much of a production."

"Sounds nice, though." His grin had grown by then as he looked over at you, leaning back to meet you where you sat. By then, he was sitting angled toward you with his legs crossed, reclining back on his hands. You shifted, and the hand behind you brushed against his. "Next time the L/Ns get together in New York, though, I'd better be invited. Quid pro quo, princess."

"Oh, of course," you replied jokingly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Might be a little quieter than what you're used to, though."

He rolled his eyes. "At least you're letting me know ahead of time." You shifted to turn yourself toward him, again finding him only inches from you. He looked as surprised as you did, but neither of you moved, and he continued, tone light. "Speaking of, sorry for not warning you about how... chaotic my family gets. It's been a while since I've been with them all at once, and I forgot to consider that this isn't how everyone's families work."

You chuckled, your smile growing. "No, don't apologize. They're sweet."

"Not the word that comes to mind." He pursed his lips, looking down at you skeptically. You rolled your eyes, but he couldn't have missed the mirth in your expression. "Then again, considering that, it's no wonder you get along with them."

Your jaw dropped in mock outrage. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

He shrugged, feigning innocence despite his smirk. "Nothing much. Just that I'm glad you feel at home with my family."

You huffed out a laugh, pulling yourself up to jab a finger in his chest. "Now don't you dare even pretend that wasn't an insult!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." His grin didn't waver.

"Oh, don't play dumb," you scoffed. You both knew the fury in your voice was contrived, and his amusement seemed to grow. "We both know what you meant."

"Oh, yeah?" He pushed back on you, leaning in against your hand, an eyebrow raised. "What'd I mean, princess?"

"I said don't pretend," you warned him. He was looking increasingly smug the more indignant you became, and you narrowed your eyes.

"Who said I was?

"I'm not stupid." You raised your eyebrows.

"'Course not." He mocked your expression. "So you must already know I would never mean anything other than praise by that, huh?"

You rolled your eyes with a groan, having had about enough, despite the smile you were failing to stifle. He laughed, and you reached out to shove him away by the chest, but just as you did, he tried to grab your wrist, eyebrows raised.

He was too late.

As he grabbed your wrist, you couldn't pull back to where you were sitting, and your eyes widened as you lost your balance. Your momentum turned what would've hardly tipped him over into a much more forceful push, and you sent him falling backward, his legs unfolding as he tried to catch himself, with you, in turn, collapsing forward with a yelp. You ended up on top of him, one hand still held to his chest, the other beside his head, and you knelt straddling his waist. Both of you had wide eyes as you realized the position you were in, nose-to-nose, and your breath caught in the back of your throat.

He was the first to speak, eyes shining, his voice low. "Y'know, this wasn't quite what I had in mind when I asked you to come home with me for the weekend."

However, you were still stunned into silence, hyper-aware of any movement either of you made. You had to focus on your breathing in an effort to calm your pounding heart. (With your hand on his chest, you could tell you weren't the only one.)

You felt your hair brushing against your cheek as it fell forward, draped beside your head over Philip. It must have been subconscious when you found yourself leaning in further yet, must have been instinct based on the situation. Nonetheless, when you did, the side of your nose brushed against his, and you felt his heartbeat quicken, saw his eyes widen.

You paused when you must have been less than an inch above him.

"Y/N," he murmured, voice cautious as his free hand found its way up to your waist. You stalled, though, for another moment, shivering when you felt his breath fan across your lips. He was all but immobile beneath you, too apprehensive to make any move one way or another.

The anticipation in his eyes only heightened with each passing second.

It was then that you pushed yourself off of him, blinking hard, and you couldn't decide whether you had lost your nerve or regained your sense. You swallowed, took a deep breath. "Sorry, I... I didn't mean to, um--" You cut yourself off. What in the world were you thinking? The question arose in your mind desperately as you scrambled further back, further from him. Your face was burning. "I wasn't--"

"You're ok," he said softly, giving you a reassuring (yet, slightly worried) smile. You didn't meet his gaze. "It was a mistake." You were so lost in your own train of thought that you didn't notice when Philip finally stood, walked to the empty side of the bed to join you.

"We should get some sleep," he said, turning on the lamp beside him, and you nodded. The past few minutes had you spiraling. All his actions were hesitant; had you scared him? You didn't mean to end up in that position. He knew it was just a mishap, right? Did you know that it was?

He stood briefly to hit the light, and you crawled under one side of the covers. After a moment, he joined you. Neither of you knew quite what to say next.

"G'night, princess," he finally murmured, voice as wary as it was soft as you curled into the sheets, and he pulled them over himself alongside you. You closed your eyes in an effort to forget that you were still facing him, shifted over to give him space. Your calf brushed against his knee, but you didn't pull away.

When you heard the lamp turn off, you finally spoke again. "Night, Pip."

The room was completely silent after that, but neither of you was at rest. You lay with your eyes tightly shut, your thoughts running a mile a minute as you willed yourself to stop replaying one specific moment on a loop.

You didn't realize your brow was furrowed, but Philip did, watching you for just a moment longer with smiling eyes.

The bed was just a little bit warmer that night.