"Lin, you've got to take your medicine."

He looks up at you with sunken eyes. He hasn't shaved in weeks and his beard is lopsided. He hasn't left the couch in days, save to use the bathroom.

He opens his mouth and you shove a pill in.

He won't let you read anything he's written, often sleeping with your MacBook as a pillow. Despite his disheveled look, his health seems to be improving, and you're glad he's getting rest, despite his obsessive writing.

One day, you are getting ready to go to your first class of the day, carefully fixing your hair in the mirror, when you hear a knock on your door. "Come in." You say, mildly surprised. Lin hasn't attempted to make contact with you since he read that dumb biography.

Lin walks in with a super broad grin on his face. You sit on your bed, and pat the space beside you. He sits cautiously on the end of you bed, and opens his laptop. Without letting you see the page, he starts tapping a beat on his thigh with his lap. He leans close to you and you hear, the softest, most delicate voice:

"How does a bastard, orphan, son of a..."

"LIN!" You squeal and kiss his cheek, "You can talk!" Lin smiles, still tapping the beat, he opens his mouth to say something else, but you quiet him, "No, save your voice. Can I read it?" Lin nods, reluctantly, handing you the Mac. The page is titled:

"Hamilton"

And is covered in fragmented thoughts, with groups of lines here and there- the beginnings of songs.

"Lin..." You mumble, "This is incredible!" Lin picks up your Mac and moves it to the side, grabbing your hand. You experience a whirlwind of emotions, and you sit for the longest moment in the eye of that hurricane, a moment frozen in time.

You feel the weight of Lin's hand on yours, and the mutual realization that you two are standing on the brink of something great, all you've got to do is dive...

Tenderly, Lin kissed the side of your mouth, his angular nose pressing firmly into your cheek. You kiss him back, slowly, and squeeze his hand. As your lips continue to move together in a fluid unison, your bodies are ever drifting closer together. First, a hand on your cheek. Then, a hand on your waist. Soon, you are nearly in his lap, straddling his knees as he sits on the edge of the bed.

You haven't made out with anyone in years, and this session is a passionate, albeit, messy one. A steady struggle for power as you two try to find the rhythm of your love-making. After yours and Lin's teeth click together, you separate. Lin looks at you, apologetically, and you blush. Lin smiles at you, takes a breath, then firmly grabs your shoulders, asserting his dominance.

Unlike any of your previous lovers (though there hasn't been many), you are not made to feel inferior by Lin taking control. You willingly allow him to lay you onto the bed.

As you make contact with the bedspread, yours and Lins lips collide once more. The ravenous hunger for each other is still alive, even gaining in quality what it lost in volume, as you and Lin find your rhythm. Your fingers dance through his hair as he writes a symphony across the blank canvas that is your body with his heavenly lips.

You throw your head back a gasp as he nips the loose skin on your neck. Biting and sucking, he makes his way from the nape of your neck to the dangerous area just above your chests. As he works his magic, your mind strays and you look over at the laptop.

"You know," You manage between gasps, "That laptop has a music writing application called GarageBand you could use."

Lin flies off you, grabbing the laptop and landing on the couch, all in a matter of a few seconds. You are left lying on the bed trying to catch your breath. You are slightly disappointed that you didn't go farther with Lin just now, but the face he made when you told him about the app made everything better.

You stand up, straighten your shirt, and refix your hair. You look over at your bedside clock, mutter an explicative, and start to walk out of the room. As you do, you see your old DJing headphones on the floor of your closet. Smiling, you dust them off and walk into the living room.

Lin is already curled up on the couch around the laptop, tapping a beat with his hand and smiling wider than you'd ever seen him smile. You slide the headphones over his ears, and he looks up at you. You tenderly kiss his forehead and grin saying: "Write me something, beautiful."