Chapter Text
Lizzie had never slept so few hours in her life.
Sleeping in the same bed as Hope Mikaelson was both a blessing and a curse. Having someone startling her awake at every and any hour of the night was admittedly not super restful. However, the alternative was scarier. Ever since breaking the sire bond, Lizzie had felt…empty. Not all the time, and not at a degree that would make her break down any time soon, but she could still feel it scratching away at her insides. The nights were the worst. During the day, she was distracted, and more importantly, not alone. At night, the emptiness would eat away at her until she had no choice but to lie awake, tossing and turning in bed. If Josie were still here, she’d at least be able to jump in her sister’s bed and force her into a much-needed cuddle session. Instead, she was left sire-bond-less and twin-sister-connection-less. Two things that were both normal to want and possible to achieve.
When Lizzie had broken the sire bond, she thought all connection to Hope would be severed. And it had been. But, nestled in the middle of her chest lay residual warmth where her bond to Hope, however brief, used to be. It wasn’t supernatural in nature anymore, yet it still managed to flare up whenever she was with Hope. Her presence alone was enough to quell the emptiness inside of her. So, when Lizzie would wake up crying and screaming until her throat was raw, haunted by the faces of those she’d killed, she didn’t regret choosing to have Hope next to her over getting more hours of sleep. Quality over quantity and all that jazz.
In an ideal world, they would time their night terrors perfectly to maximize their joint rest. Realistically, often were nights when they would take turns waking up in cold sweat because of nightmares. Not only would they not get a wink of sleep, but they would also both be too miserable to do anything about it. But those nights were bittersweet in and of themselves. Not to be too shallow or anything, but her and Hope had this knee-jerk reaction of making-out to forget how miserable they were.
Making out was nice.
Making out with Hope was even nicer – for lack of a better word.
And could anyone blame them for this coping mechanism? Nope! Not that anyone knew about it anyway…but that was besides the point. The point was that they were both very hot people, and, in Lizzie’s humble opinion, it would be a crime for them not to hook up whenever the chance arose.
Also, she was in love with Hope.
That little fact probably also played a small part in her sacrificing precious sleep time to spend her nights with Hope.
Lizzie was so attuned to Hope by this point that her body woke up before her mind even knew something was wrong. Lizzie opened her eyes to the sight of Hope sitting up in bed, her hands grasping the covers tightly as she stared silently at the wall. Lizzie Saltzman could sleep through multiple blaring alarms, but she’d be damned if her body didn’t immediately shoot up at the feel of Hope waking up. Still trying to shake the sleep from her mind, Lizzie put a hand on Hope’s trembling shoulder.
“Hope?” Lizzie rasped out, cringing at the sound of her own sleep-induced voice.
“I can’t feel anything,” Hope said matter-of-factly, the tears being the only evidence of her being affected by this. “I can’t feel anything,” she repeated, taking her hand off of the covers and bringing it up to her sweatshirt.
Lizzie scooted forward, squeezing Hope’s shoulder, “Hey, you’re okay. You-”
Hope hit her own chest so violently that Lizzie momentarily worried she had broken something.
“Why can’t I feel anything?” Hope whimpered, clutching her sweatshirt like she was trying to jump start her heart. “I can’t- I can’t feel anything.”
A rumbling started reverberating throughout Hope’s room. Looking around, Lizzie thought she had imagined it for a second, before an empty glass of blood – their late-night snack - fell to the ground, knocked from the table by a tremor. Feeling magic oozing out of the tribrid at an alarming rate, Lizzie turned back to Hope. Magic outbursts were usually her thing, but it seemed like Hope was borrowing from her playbook.
Lizzie put her other hand on Hope’s cheek. The girl didn’t react to the touch, still in a sort of trance as she muttered ‘I can’t feel anything’ over and over again like a mantra. Now very much awake, Lizzie began siphoning magic in an attempt to keep it from growing too strong. Her palm glowed red as she physically nudged Hope’s head towards her.
“Hope, it’s me. You’re okay. You’re awake.”
Lizzie wished she could be more of a comfort to the girl. It was never immediate. Hope would look at her after waking up from a nightmare and stare at her in fear. Worst of all, she seemed to recognize Lizzie, yet she was terrified of having woken up next to her. The moments it took for Hope to realize that Lizzie wasn’t some horrifying figment of her imagination were excruciatingly long and quite frankly, a little heartbreaking. Hope had already told her she made guest appearances in some of her most unpleasant dreams. Lizzie didn’t know in what capacity, but it always hurt to know that her presence in Hope’s bed only served to burden her further once the girl woke up.
But there was always one moment that made it all worth it.
There would be a shift in Hope’s expression as she searched her eyes for answers that Lizzie could never have given her otherwise. Hope would recognize that she was out of her dream, and that Lizzie was real.
She saw the moment of recognition kick in when Hope’s expression softened.
“Lizzie,” she whispered, desperately looking for confirmation.
Lizzie smiled reassuringly, “Hi.”
All the tension left Hope’s body with one shaky exhale. The destructive magic around them settled down just as quickly as it had manifested itself. Equally as relieved, Lizzie was about to go on a spiel about how Hope had scared the shit out of her when the girl collapsed into her arms in tears.
Oh.
Usually, Hope would stubbornly laugh the nightmare off as if nothing had ever happened. Tonight must have been particularly rough if Hope was willing to let Lizzie see her cry for longer than strictly necessary.
Lizzie wrapped her arms around Hope out of habit. She felt Hope burrow further into her shoulder. Lizzie didn’t think she’d ever get used to Hope being this close to her.
It felt right.
It felt impossible.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Hope mumbled into her shirt.
She did that a lot lately – apologize for no reason.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Lizzie assured her.
She heard Hope’s breath hitch at the reassurance. Lizzie hesitated for a moment before bringing a hand up and carefully smoothing down the girl’s hair. It was impossibly tangled, probably as a result of having tossed and turned all night. Lizzie raked her fingers gently through every knot and curl, not certain what else she could do. She didn’t know how long they stayed like this, but her hand had started cramping up from stroking Hope’s hair.
Lizzie’s hoodie was also moist from the tears - and other less than desirable bodily fluids – being wiped on it. Lizzie made a face but rose above it like the mature human being she was. Mature heretic being. Whatever.
Hope suddenly pulled away from the hug to look at her, “Did you just say ‘Ew’?”
Lizzie blinked down at her, “What?”
“You just said ‘Ew’!” Hope reproached, crossing her arms like someone had committed a grave offence against her person.
Oops.
“No, I didn’t,” Lizzie denied, momentarily distracted by Hope’s puffy and reddened eyes.
“I have super hearing, Lizzie. I heard you say ‘Ew’.”
Lizzie scoffed, “Well, I have super hearing too, and I did not hear me say ‘Ew’.” Hope looked at her unimpressed before wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Hope looked so small like this, which was saying a lot considering the girl was like, 3 feet tall. As if catching herself, Hope looked down at her own sleeve in disgust like she was requestioning all her life choices. Lizzie caved in at the admittedly adorable sight, “Alright, maybe I said ‘Ew’, but it was totally unintentional, I swear. I was rising above it!”
“Not well enough, apparently.”
Lizzie didn’t know what to say to that, so she just stared at Hope, desperately trying to find the words to defend herself. Then Hope started laughing and all was right in the world.
Lizzie rolled her eyes to hide her own amusement. Taking pity on the sniffling girl, Lizzie grabbed a tissue from the bedside table. And instead of handing it to Hope like a normal person, something possessed her to wipe the girl’s nose herself. Lizzie blamed it on the sight of Hope looking so miserable.
“That’s…kinda gross,” Hope said, scrunching up her nose at the tissue Lizzie was unceremoniously rubbing on her face.
Lizzie nodded solemnly, definitely embarrassed, but too stubborn to back down.
“Yes, but I’m too far in now not to commit.”
Hope smiled as she grabbed Lizzie’s hand to stop her from doing more damage with the tissue. Before Lizzie could say something else witty, Hope’s smile melted away just as quickly as it had appeared. Hope dropped Lizzie’s hand.
“Why don’t you hate me?”
Lizzie took this sudden shift of tone as her cue to throw away the tissue, and her terrible decision to use it in the first place. Turning away also gave her an excuse to have her back to Hope when she answered.
“Because I love you.”
It hurt too much to look at her when Hope didn’t say it back. Lizzie knew it wasn’t fair. They didn’t talk about it. They never talked about anything. Did Hope not love her? Was she just not ready to say it? For someone who told herself that she was going to stop babbling on about her love for Hope, Lizzie certainly found herself thinking about it a lot.
Lizzie put on her best ‘I’m totally cool about maybe not being loved back’ face and scooted back up the bed next to Hope. She couldn’t bring herself to properly look at the girl, but she did take her hand. Hand holding was safe. Lizzie had discovered that she liked holding hands. She’d never seen the appeal before, but then again, she had never been in love before. Hope turned her palm upwards and linked their fingers together like they had done an embarrassingly high number of times in the last weeks.
“I’m sorry,” Hope breathed out as she carefully brushed her thumb on Lizzie’s knuckle.
“I know,” Lizzie said, since acknowledgment was as much as she could give her without breaking down. Wanting to escape to less painful territory, Lizzie resorted to doing what she did best - make light of a situation. “You know, this wouldn’t be half as traumatizing if your mind just decided to let you have sexy dreams once in a while, as a treat.”
When Lizzie was met with a silence far too long to be a good sign, she turned her head to look at the girl next to her. Hope was already staring at her.
Hope glanced down at her lips, “I used to have them. Before. Only every now and then,” Hope added, like it would lessen the fact that she was casually talking to her about sex dreams. Sure, Lizzie had brought it up, but she didn’t actually think Hope was going to take it all seriously and stuff. Hope leaned in closer, and it took all of Lizzie’s self-control not to laugh nervously. “Why? Are you offering to give me inspiration?”
This was new.
Lizzie was totally not prepared for this. When they had fooled around before, there hadn’t been any…foreplay. Most of the time, Lizzie didn’t even pay attention to how they ended up making out like their lives depended on it. It just happened.
Despite her better judgment, Lizzie leaned in slightly as well, “Maybe.”
Which was a lame response, but Lizzie was too exhausted to flirt properly.
Hope half-smiled and tightened her hold on Lizzie’s hand, “I wouldn’t need it. A lot of my dreams used to be about you.”
Lizzie mirrored the other girl and glanced down at her lips, “Really?”
“Really.”
Hope kissed her then. It was unexpectedly soft in its tameness. Lizzie’s eyes had closed of their own volition as all her other senses were left to pay full attention to Hope and only Hope. She felt the warmth of their breaths mingle as their noses brushed against each other. Lizzie blindly reangled her head to go back in for more. She heard Hope’s heartbeat quicken as their lips reconnected. Lizzie didn’t think there was a better use of vampiric hearing than attuning herself to Hope’s every whim. Lizzie felt a hand snake up to her cheek and gently cradle it. Hope probably meant nothing by it, but it served as a much-needed reminder for Lizzie. This was her Hope. It was not the no-humanity Hope who had been all sharp edges and blunted heat. That version of Hope was gone, no matter how much she had had her heart racing. This was better than their kiss at the motel because this time, they weren’t pretending. This was real. She was real.
Hope let go of her hand and Lizzie whined at the loss of contact. Hope snorted lightly at the sound, and Lizzie scrunched up her nose as sole protest. The amusement was not warranted, but she was not about to stop kissing the girl just because she was being annoying. Perhaps with the same train of thought, Hope threw the covers off of their legs, and, without breaking the kiss, swiftly straddled Lizzie. Lizzie almost audibly gasped, but she held herself back to avoid giving another reason for the tribrid to mock her. Sensing that the other girl was about to mock her anyway, Lizzie took pre-emptive measures by biting down on her bottom lip. Disappointedly enough, Hope simply exhaled shakily before arching down further into Lizzie.
She had learned early on that Hope was never very…vocal about her pleasure. Lizzie hated it. Was it realistically a testament to her skills? Probably not - even if it were, she wasn’t certain Hope would ever tell her. Whatever the case, it made her feel woefully inadequate. It also turned her insanely competitive. Which, all things considered, was perhaps not the best mindset to have when going for a less impulsive and more languorous, careful pace. Because not five minutes ago, Lizzie was watching Hope sob heart-wrenchingly, and now, she was trying to ravage her with her tongue. Truly a representation of the duality of man. And to be fair, Hope didn’t seem intent on backing down either.
The girl had trapped her against the headboard, taking advantage of their heads being at the same height for once with how she was still straddling her legs. Lizzie moaned as Hope licked into her mouth, not quite sure why she had wanted to take things slow in the first place. Lizzie grabbed the girl’s waist, bringing her in further. Hope happily obliged, tilting Lizzie’s jaw upwards with the hand that wasn’t still stroking her cheek. Hope began kissing down her chin, only slowing down when she got to the hollow of her throat. Hope grazed the skin there with her teeth, which Lizzie felt go in deeper when she gulped reflexively. Lizzie bit her own lip to avoid giving Hope the satisfaction of making too many embarrassing noises. This was a game and Lizzie Saltzman was going to win it.
With a parting kiss to her throat, Hope unexpectedly detached herself from Lizzie just enough to look at her. Hope seemed to hesitate before tucking a strand of hair that had escaped Lizzie’s low ponytail behind her ear. Lizzie just watched dumbly, still reeling from the feel of Hope’s teeth on her skin.
Hope stared at Lizzie’s shoulder instead of looking her in the eyes as she spoke, “Are you okay? I mean, is this okay?”
And just like that, Lizzie’s entire competitive resolve crumbled into dust. Hope was all sweet and nervous, and here was Lizzie, making up imaginary sex competitions in her mind. Lizzie shook her head, which Hope seemed to take it as something was wrong. Before panic could further fill the girl’s body (and it was a tiny body, so it wouldn’t take long), Lizzie smiled at her as she found Hope’s hand to tangle their fingers together.
“Yeah, this is okay.”
Lizzie wanted to say more. There was always more to be said. It was right there, on the tip of her tongue. The feelings swirled between them, always, whether they were lying next to each other, or simply talking. It was a lot of unsaids and what-ifs. It was so much, that Lizzie hardly knew what to do with any of it. It must have been even worse for Hope. At least Lizzie could put some of those feelings in every ‘I love you’ that managed to escape her. Hope kept it all inside of herself, never sharing any of it – burden or not. Maybe it was selfish of her, but Lizzie believed that things would feel a lot better if Hope were to throw a couple of love confessions her way once in awhile. All and all, wishful thinking.
Instead of saying any of that, Lizzie dove back in for a kiss. This time everything felt rushed. It was like the look in each others’ eyes had spooked them into making sure no more intimacy could filter into the moment. Hope pushed their joint hands against the headboard above Lizzie’s head.
“Shirt,” Lizzie mumbled, only half a question.
Instead of reaching for her own shirt, Hope trailed her hand from Lizzie’s wrist to her shoulder, then swiftly down the middle of her chest until she landed on the hem of her hoodie. Lizze gladly went along with it, raising both her arms as Hope helped her shimmy out of hoodie. Once it was off, Lizzie took a second to try and flatten her hair down, the collar of her hoodie having loosened her ponytail. She self-consciously cursed the static that was making her hair misbehave as Hope threw the hoodie haphazardly on the floor. Lizzie was still in the process of unsticking strands of blonde hair from her face when she caught Hope looking at her weirdly.
“Don’t look at my hair. Stripping is not half-as sexy as the movies would have you believe.”
Hope’s full-blown pupils disappeared momentarily as she laughed, “You’re lucky you’re pretty then.”
“True.”
Hope’s eyes lingered briefly on her exposed chest and Lizzie realized that she was in fact half naked. Suddenly feeling far too exposed, she grabbed the back of Hope’s neck and brought her in for another kiss. Never one to complain about making-out, Hope smiled as she easily let Lizzie take the lead.
Lizzie thought that this time, they would actually go through it. They would sleep together, and it would be amazing, or terrible, and it would change everything, or nothing at all. Two terrifying outcomes if Lizzie had ever heard them. But this felt wrong. Hope was distracted, even as Lizzie propped one of her knees up in between her legs, and the girl moaned breathily at the contact, rousing the competitive embers withing Lizzie’s soul. Hope’s hazy gaze refused to focus on her, and not in the ‘I’m too hot and bothered to look at you properly’ way. Every time Lizzie’s eyes would search for Hope’s, the smaller girl actively avoided them, staring at everything else possible with a guilt-ridden look.
Lizzie felt like they both deserved better than a mindless fuck after everything they’d gone through. But then again, equally as appealing, was the side of her that told her to suck it up and help distract Hope from the aftermath of night terrors – God knows the tribrid deserved a break from all the pain and suffering.
“Hey,” Hope called out softly, leaving a sloppy kiss on the corner of Lizzie’s mouth, “What’s wrong?”
Lizzie blinked up at her, wondering how long she had been checked out for. Hope had stopped grinding on her thigh, which was fair given that Lizzie was just as distracted as she had been mentally accusing her of being.
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
Lizzie leaned forward to kiss underneath Hope’s jaw, her lips soon making way for her teeth to bite down softly. Hope’s hips canted up reflexively into her thigh as Lizzie’s hand snaked up further under the girl’s sweatshirt.
“I – ah – wait, Lizzie,” Hope said, pushing back on her shoulders. The move was rendered useless by Lizzie having already pulled back at the first sign of protest. Hope’s face was flushed as she watched Lizzie, but her expression was serious, worried even. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“What do you care, Hope?” Lizzie snapped; her tone more bitter than it ought to be.
Hope looked taken aback by the outburst, seemingly hurt by the sentiment, “What?”
“I…sorry. I’m sorry,” Lizzie backtracked, unsure as to why she was being such a dick about everything.
Why couldn’t she just be there for Hope without complicating things? Why did everything always have to revolve around her own selfish emotions?
Feeling overwhelmed, Lizzie cradled her head in her hands, her fingertips reeling from the sudden absence of warmth radiating off of Hope’s skin. After a moment, Lizzie felt hands cover her own and a kiss being planted on the top of her head. Lizzie frowned at the weight that was on top of her disappearing as Hope moved off of her legs and hopped off the bed.
Lizzie had had one job: making Hope feel better when she had nightmares. It was an understatement to say that she had failed miserably. Lizzie refused to even entertain the idea of tears forming in her eyes, willing them to stay safely in her tear ducts. Lizzie was not going to let Hope see her cry, even if it killed her. She waited for Hope to leave, hearing the girl shuffle about in the room. If anything, Lizzie had done the impressive deed of making someone storm out of their own room.
Instead of the door slamming shut like she had expected, Lizzie felt the bed beside her dip. She looked up at Hope as tears prickled the corner of her eyes because, frustratingly enough, Lizzie apparently had no real control over her tear ducts.
“Hey, don’t go stealing my thing, now. I’m the one who’s supposed to be a mess,” Hope said, her tone teasing, but her eyes soft.
Lizzie sniffled, “I think we’re both messes.”
“Alright, it’s not a competition.”
“Luckily for you, because I’d totally win,” Lizzie bantered mindlessly as she pulled her knees up into herself. “I don’t care if you are the Chosen One,” she mocked, again half-heartedly, picking at the comforter beneath her.
Hope scooted up to her, poking at her elbow. Lizzie’s eyes widened as Hope dangled her discarded hoodie in front of her. She had forgotten that she was topless in the midst of being sad. With a resigned pout, Lizzie let Hope slip the hoodie back over her head, once again messing up her hair. Hope didn’t once let her eyes wander below Lizzie’s collarbone, which she appreciated because it made it easier for her to pretend like she hadn’t just been half-naked in front of the girl. After she was done helping Lizzie brush the hair back from her face, Hope went back over to her side of the bed.
Lizzie watched her lie down on her back, slipping under the covers.
“Are you still staying for the night?” Hope asked, vulnerability seeping into every word.
Lizzie hesitated, “If that’s alright?”
“Please,” Hope whispered, turning slightly to look up at her.
Lizzie nodded and leaned down from where she was sat to kiss her quickly, before joining her under the covers. Hope moved into Lizzie’s arms as soon as she opened them invitingly. Hope nestled into her when Lizzie began stroking her back, trying to convince herself that she was fine. Lovestruck, but fine.
After a minute of wordlessly lying together, Hope spoke up, “I know how I feel. I just can’t, I-I’m scared that if I say it, it makes it real.” A beat. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Lizzie reassured her - an automatic, but nonetheless true response.
Lizzie watched as Hope head that was laying on her chest swayed gently with her every breath.
So much for no intimacy.
Hope brushed a hand up on Lizzie’s clad ribs before pulling it back down lower to rest it on her stomach.
“How do you deal with it? The emptiness you told me about. The one your connection to Josie left. The one…your sire-bond to me left,” Hope asked, seemingly full of questions at the exact time when Lizzie was getting sleepy.
Lizzie bought herself time to answer by snaking her hand beneath Hope’s sweatshirt and stroking along her spine. Hope sighed contentedly as Lizzie raked her nails lightly on her back.
“I rely on other people distracting me. Probably not the best coping mechanism, I know, but it helps. At least, it feels like it does. I think that’s the point. Eventually, you get used to the emptiness until it doesn’t hurt anymore,” Lizzie said offhandedly. In truth, she’d thought about this a lot. Obsessively, even. She missed her sister. She missed the connection they had, but it was easier to get accustomed to its absence with her twin being out of sight, out of mind. Lizzie was with Hope all the time now. Her presence served as a reminder of what she’d lost with Hope, but also of the companionship she’d found in her. Lizzie sighed, “You’ll get used to it, but in the meantime, it’ll just feel like someone is bleeding you dry.”
At Hope’s lack of reaction, Lizzie was about to expand further upon her vampire pun when the tribrid spoke up first.
“I know it doesn’t really make sense, but when that emptiness inside of me is gone-” Hope stopped like she was out of breath, fiddling on Lizzie’s hoodie’s pocket as she struggled to find the words, “I think I’ll have more space to give to others. To give to you,” she said quickly into Lizzie’s collarbone, like she had been afraid to say it at all.
Her hand on Hope’s back halted momentarily before resuming its path down the girl’s spine. Lizzie figured this was as close to an ‘I love you’ as she would get for now. With her other free hand, she reached for Hope’s and messily intertwined their fingers together.
“I’m sorry if it’s too much. Me loving you, I mean,” Lizzie apologized, the emotion getting stuck in her throat almost painfully.
Without hesitating, Hope shook her head on Lizzie’s chest, the movement making the straining throb of her heart all the more obvious, “I don’t think your love could ever be too much. I’m just afraid that my love isn’t ever gonna be enough for anyone. I might be a little too broken for that.”
Lizzie disagreed. She disagreed vehemently. But now was not the time to get into it. Not when Hope was finally dozing off into what was hopefully a dreamless sleep.
Having an immortal, all-powerful being nestled into her arms was both nerve-racking and thrilling. Hope could kill her – and she had – just as well as she could keep saving her for the rest of eternity. Hope had the power to make herself and Lizzie live forever. Lizzie was powerless in the face of anything that could hurt Hope. Worst of all, this was Hope they were talking about. Hope Mikaelson, the bane of her childhood years. The girl who polluted all her best memories and graced her ugliest moments in life. There were so many reasons for them not to be together. They were both immortal now, but the world seemed intent on dragging Hope to an untimely death. Being this powerful meant that her and Hope having thousand of years ahead of them was just as likely as them having mere weeks. In both cases, being with Hope was a tragedy waiting to happen.
Lizzie had so many things she wanted to tell Hope.
But for now, she’d settle for holding her as she slept, trying not to reopen a wound that Hope had barely survived. Hoping not to hurt her more than she had already hurt herself.