#hammaria

please dont go, sir!

(Them fighting for hammy)

Them being happy for once

I am actually vibrating with excitement rn ily hello.

I won't share these on Tumblr for the lack of credits. But omg I am eternally grateful to you, you DON'T EVEN KNOW???

Let's hope this day ends better than it started :(

Hi! Thanks for your request <3 I'm SO sorry for the wait, I had the biggest writer's block and so many things to do. I apologise in advance, I don't particularly engage with Hammaria content so I'm not so aware of the kind of popular hcs and fics people write about them. Since most of the things I've read about them were rather toxic and you want fluff, I offer fixing things together!

I'm not perfectly satisfied with this but it's something I suppose?

Modern AU, TW for past/implied abuse - past toxicity - su!cidal thoughts, Musical lore/designs used for descriptions.

Didn't check my mistakes, will fix them later if I find them LMAO.

--

She had called. He had come. That was how it had been between them for a while now. She called, she begged, she threatened him with the unimaginable. He closed his eyes, he thought about not going, he caved and rushed to her rescue. It was an old habit, anchored in the practice of their love, poisoning their romance from within.

"Maria?" He called, pushing the door open after unlocking it with his spare keys.

"Alex.." she murmured back, feeble and exhausted. He found her on the couch, lying down, knees up against her chest. She wasn't crying anymore but the dark paths over her brown skin were clear evidence of tears dragging down her make-up. He knelt by the couch, his face at her level.

"He left. He said he wouldn't come back but I'm scared he will." She whispered like she could barely raise her voice any louder. He caressed her hair gently and looked around the room, pushing his glasses up his nose with his free hand, taking in the sight. A hole had been punched into one of the walls. Alex cringed at the vision of the other man, in a moment of blinding rage, hitting the drywall. He could also easily imagine Maria's fear, her yelling at him, her being brave.

He focused back on her.

"I'm going to grab some of your stuff. You're moving out of here."

She didn't respond, barely acknowledging he had even spoken. He got back on his feet and entered her bedroom. He searched the closet, taking out her favourite clothes. Shirts, pants, dresses, underwear and socks. Everything she'd need. He could always buy her new clothes. He didn't care. He just wanted her safe.

When he returned to the living room she had gotten up. She was looking at herself in a mirror, rubbing her eyes until the skin turned red from how raw and irritated it was. He groaned and caught her by the wrist, pulling her arms away from her.

"I hate this stupid make up."

"You're hurting yourself Maria, stop it. Darling, stop it." He said. She stared at him.

"You almost never call me that."

"Darling?"

"Yes." They stared at each other in silence until she sobbed and pressed her face into the crook of his neck, shoulders shaken by her crying. He held her and caressed her hair. He helped her shove everything she needed in his car and he drove her to his apartment. He let her use his shower, let her put stuff on the nightstand, cooked for her. They ate pasta while watching a movie on TV but they never spoke. They didn't speak about what this all meant. They never really spoke before. Neither of them was ready to change that.

It lasted a while, that silence. They lived together, stayed up way past midnight, sometimes even until the sun's first rays pierced through the darkness of the night. They talked of everything and nothing, but never of what this meant for them. They laughed and argued in the kitchen. She even threw a glass at his head once and then crumbled to her knees and hid her face in her hands for what seemed to be hours. He stood there, heart beating loudly in his chest like it was attempting to carve its way out of him. And then he went down on his knees too and held her and they remained intertwined and tangled up for a very long time. They cleaned the broken glass and they never mentioned it again.

"I really like you." She said one evening as they shared a bottle of wine he'd bought for a fancy dinner with the Washingtons that had been cancelled. He turned his head very slowly, his brown gaze detailing every element of her face. The sharp jaw, the perfect straight nose, the long lashes. Hamilton was aware of how beautiful she was, but sometimes it was more than beauty. She was sublime. Gorgeous in a way that almost frightened him, as if she was a goddess in disguise, living amongst mere mortals. He smiled despite himself.

"I'd hope so considering you've been living with me for almost 2 months now."

"Don't start. I really mean it, Alex. I really like you." He heard something akin to despair in her voice, something between sad and hopeful. He moved closer to her and put his hand to hers, gently caressing her knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

"I really like you too."

She smiled. Genuinely. Not one of those seductive smiles she sometimes put on to earn a favour or one of those fake ones that felt utterly exaggerated to pretend she was okay. No, a real one this time. He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, almost shy. She laughed and he laughed too. The world outside was a blur for only they existed, only they mattered.

"Maria.." he started, unsure of where he was going. Her doe eyes were riveted on his face, obviously expecting something specific.

"What are we?" He asked, scratching his neck awkwardly.

"I don't know. What are we?" She echoed.

"I think I want you to be my girlfriend."

"You think?" He sighed and cleared his throat before asking again:

"Will you be my girlfriend or not?"

She rolled her eyes at him but the smirk tugging at her lips was unmistakable. She was happy. Very happy.

"Alright. I'll be your girlfriend."

The effects of that conversation were almost magical. After that, they began actually opening up to one another. When an arguement went too far they apologised to each other. They talked things out. They made promises and they genuinely tried to hold onto them. Sometimes they fell back into their old habits. She screamed at him, she threatened to hurt herself. He screamed back, he locked himself in his little office and worked until he could barely comprehend the nonsensical sentences he'd strung together at 3 am. It didn't stop them from moving forward. The day after they always made up for it, talked, kissed, apologised. They tried not to leave things unsaid which was much easier said than done but they somehow managed.

Alexander was in the kitchen, checking his emails waiting for the steaks for their burgers to be cooked. Maria walked in and stood there.

"I blocked James. I want to report him."

Hamilton lifted his gaze from his laptop to her face and nodded.

"Now." She added. He glanced at the steaks and back at Maria. She looked so brave and so determined and yet so frail, so afraid. He got up and decided that despite reason telling him to stay and eat and do it tomorrow, his heart told him to go with her. As Pascal said, the heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of. And Alex's heart knew damn well if he didn't support her then, the next morning she might change her mind and regret it forever.

So they went to the police station and she reported James Reynolds and they never got a call back nor was he ever arrested for lack of evidence but she fucking did it and she could be proud of herself. Hamilton never stopped telling her. She always tried to brush it off but he could tell she felt relieved. Relieved to have spoken out, relieved to be somewhat officially free.

A two years after they started dating, he took her to a restaurant. A really fancy restaurant, the kind she'd barely ever gone to before. She was excited and for once she let it show. She pointed at the golden chandeliers attached to the ceiling and whispered about how nice they looked. He couldn't stop staring at her through the entire dinner. Some would say Alexander Hamilton had never been so quiet. Truth was he just wanted to listen to her voice, its melodious rhythm blocking out the loudness of the world. For someone as restless as him, moments like those were blissful. He could just admire her beauty, watch her like a painter observes a muse, amazed by her every move. His eyes lingered over her lips, over the way her eyes rolled when she complained about an old nuisance, over the way she scrunched up her nose when she smelled the fish in someone's plate not far from their table. All the little things that made her herself and that he adored. All the little things he missed when she wasn't around.

"Maria?"

She stopped mid sentence, surprised by his interruption.

"Yeah? Are you sick? You've been silent almost all evening."

"I want to get married."

Her mouth opened and closed and opened again. He could practically see her brain processing the information through her skull.

"Are you messing with me?"

"No. I want to marry you. I wasn't planning on proposing so I.. well this isn't very conventional but when have we followed any kind of conventions anyway. I was just looking at you and I thought I really wanted to call you my wife."

Maria was silent again and he thought he had messed their evening up. He was wrong.

"Fuck, okay. Let's get married. Let's fucking do it." She laughed, visibly taken aback by the absurdity of it all. Two years ago they were seeing each other once in a while, mainly for sex or when either of them wasn't doing well. But Alex had always known he liked her for more than just that. Yes, she was beautiful, no one could ever argue with that. But she was also smart and resilient and funny and curious and strong. Everything about her - even the chaos and the shards of her broken soul that left him bleeding so many times - he adored. Maria Hamilton sounded pretty nice. Even Alexander Lewis was fine. He didn't care about names. He wanted to share with her the promises of marriage.

"Do we have to wait? Can we go get married somewhere, just us? Maybe tomorrow but still." She pondered.

He thought about it. Them and an officiant. A room filled with no one else, nothing else than their love and the few words needed for this eternal pact.

"Okay. Just us." He repeated.

They made love that night and Alex couldn't stop thinking that she was going to be his wife and he would be her husband. It sounded good. It sounded peaceful, somehow.

The next day they filled a marriage licence application. A few days later they obtained it. The next day they were with their officiant, getting married with no one else around. They told their friends and families in the following days. Some were upset, some where happy. They didn't really care as long as they had each other.

Alex woke up very early the day after their wedding and he looked at her. She always looked so soft, so safe when she was asleep. Her chest rose and fell slowly, her body twitched from time to time from a dream. He could only hear their breaths in the early morning and with their closed door it felt like they were sheltered from the world in here. The room was warm, it was a summer day. He put a hand to her side and pecked her forehead, hugging her body.

"Alex.." she murmured, half asleep.

"I love you." He said.

"I love you too." She replied in a low voice.