Angelica didn't know how she felt about seeing him here, again, now. A deep part of her longed to reach for him, to hug him and hold him forever. But another layer of her, much closer to the surface, was still angry at him. He has hurt her, badly.

And then he had ... fought for her?

Her emotions toiled and stumbled, tripping over each other on their way to her brain. It took her a moment to answer him.

She pinned him with a questioning, almost accusing look, "What does that mean?"

Alexander must have realised what he said, because his expression changed instantly. He stepped forward and let the door swing shut behind him, so he was now standing inside.

"Nothing," he replied stagnantly, beginning to unravel his scarf. His eyes were shifty and filled with unease. "I just assumed you would be with the others by now. Or ... with Jefferson."

Angelica's jaw hardened. She gripped the arms of her chair.

"Well," she snapped. "Maybe you shouldn't assume things."

The air deadened to a painful, agonising silence. Alexander just stood there, all relaxed except for his eyes, which spoke the pain it always did.

Angelica felt the pain with him.

"Wow," he said.

"That — that wasn't ... I didn't ..." Angelica gave up trying to explain herself. She leaned forward and pressed both her hands into her face. She could feel tears biting her eyes once more. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like such a jerk right now."

She was sobbing as she said this, painful, heart-wrenching sobs. She sounded so pitiful, felt so pitiful. She couldn't look Alexander in the face, and so kept her wet eyes buried in her hands.

She didn't hear Alexander walk across the room to her. Only felt it when he was crouched right there in front of her chair, when his iron-grasp had her wrists encased in his hands.

She was forced to look up then.

"Hey," he said, and she fell into his eyes. His compassionate eyes. "Hey, don't cry ... Gosh, Angie, it's okay. It's okay."

He guided her shaking hands up around his neck and pulled her into a hug. She gasped and clung to his hair, to his shirt, like she would lose her life.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay. It's okay."

And he continued to repeat that, until they had hugged out every last tear and the sky was grey.

:::

Alexander drove Angelica home that night. It was 6:15 when they left the diner, and the air was already thick with night. The day always ended early in New York, towards the end of October.

It didn't happen through words. She didn't have to ask him. He didn't have to offer. He simply helped her into his car and they drove away.

As if they were speaking telepathically.

The car ride was Long and silent. Not uncomfortable, though. To Angelica, it actually felt kind of peaceful.

She wanted to ask him where they were going, but she felt no strength in her tongue. Only a soft, numbness. She felt no muscle in her arms, her wrists, her fingers.

She relaxed her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

:::

Angelica woke up to someone shaking her gently. She groaned, irritated, and somehow found the strength to peel open her eyes. Alexander's face was the first thing she focused on.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Alexander said quietly. He was standing in the doorway of the passenger seat, a soft smile on his face. "We're here. You need help getting out?"

Here. The Schuyler Mansion.

Of course he had to take her home. Angelica had no clue why she thought he would take her anywhere else. It's not like they were acting on their affection for each other.

Angelica sighed roughly, "Yes," she replied, and he laughed.

"Alright, come here ..." he slid a firm hand around Angelica's back and hauled her upwards. Her body was stiff and therefore took extra long to eject from the plushness of his car seat. "There we go."

Angelica hooked an arm over his left shoulder and allowed him to set her on her feet. But she was wobbly.

"Agh," she stumbled and slammed against him. He had to take an extra step back so he could catch the both of them before they fell down.

She scowled, "Gah. Sorry."

He grinned, "No problemo. I owe you this anyway, from the party."

Angelica realised that he was right. Turning, she allowed herself to be led away from the car and towards the tall white door of her house. By the time they reached it, she felt she could mostly stand up by herself.

Angelica turned to Alexander and smiled softly, still half-asleep.

"Thank you," she said.

"Like I said, I owe you this," he answered. His grin had softened now, into a tender smile. His wondrous eyes watched her, and she felt that she was being drawn towards them.

And actually took a step forward as if that were the case.

Angelica thought that he would tense up. Or recoil. Or do something as not to lead her on, because maybe it was just the sleep in her acting out. But he did no such thing.

In fact, he seemed to meet her in the space between, all relaxed and nimble as a baby.

"Alexander ..."

What? Alexander, what? Kiss me? Don't kiss me?

She had no answer to this. She was wide-awake now, and standing firmly in front of him, two inches away from his lips.

They hadn't kissed since that stolen moment in the classroom.

It only took her one moment of thought, one moment of conflict before she leaned forward ever so slightly and closed the distance between them.

She touched her lips to his, and a honey-sweetness broke out in her mouth and across her chest. She felt him inhale against her — not sharp and shocked, or disgustedly. It was a soft, slow inhale. A sigh. Suddenly, his hands were cupping her face. Their lips were conversing to each other, without either of them having to talk.

She had no principles in that moment.

When they finally pulled away, they were just staring very silent and very still into each other's eyes. Alexander's hands cradled her face up towards him, and now he stroked her. His thumb ran down her jawline.

"I love you," he breathed.

"I love you."

Angelica knew she should have felt guilty. She should have felt torn by her good morals, and the lure of her sister's Boyfriend. But maybe, today, after everything that happened — she wanted a break.

She wanted to have Alexander, without the constant nagging voice tugging at her ear, reminding her of her sister. She wanted to let loose.

She wanted to pretend for one second — just one second — that she could be with the man she loved, and the World wouldn't fall apart.

:::

A/N

This is so biased.

I am so sorry guys ☹️

But I promise you there WILL be a Thomgelica kiss later on ... it gets kind of destroyed, but still! ITS A KISS!