Hope had moved into Mystic Falls, with her Aunt Rebekah, a week ago. She spent most of her time hanging around the Mystic Grill, over the few days she'd been there, her extraordinary hearing had over heard some real shit - and therefore, she got caught up with a small group of people. The Salvatore Brothers, The Gilberts, Bonnie Bennet, Caroline Forbes, all that bunch. She wasn't even sure how it had happened, she was glad she just hadn't been thrown into any of the drama that followed that particular group around. That very significant day in her life, she was just setting up for another game of pool with Stefan and Damon, who had actually just left to go pick up Elena. Shortly afterwards, Stefan left her too, to go to the toilet or something, she wasn't exactly sure where Stefan was, he'd kind of rushed it. So there Hope was, all alone, leaning against the pool table. Wyatt entered the Mystic Grill with his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, and he looked around the area absently. He yawned a little, having been slightly exhausted from the day he'd had. He was in Mystic Falls to introduce Boone to Stefan and Damon, but for now he had some free time. He'd left Boone to his own devices, probably off running in the woods or something. Either way, Wyatt made his way over to the bar and flagged down the bartender, ordering himself a Bourbon.
Hope yawned and stretched in a restricted fashion, deciding not to go for the full body motion whilst surrounded by strangers. She resigned herself to inspecting her pool cue and waiting tirelessly for Stefan. She allowed her eyes to trail randomly over the occupants of the grill, completely uninterested until she recognised the occasional person from school. That is until her gaze eventually made it to the bar, where she spotted Stefan, she groaned inwardly and took her pool cue with her on her short journey to meet him. Hope came to a sudden stop when she realised Stefan was wearing a completely different outfit and that he was drinking something. The Stefan she knew wouldn't just abandon her to go drink at the bar. Damon maybe would, but Stefan? Nah. Hope decided to scoot around a little, weaving subtly through people until she found a seat at the end of the bar, angled so that she could see everyone's face, and her eyes scoured this strange version of Stefan's face, making sure to already be looking away the moment he looked in her direction. Wyatt glanced at a young girl at the end of the bar with a note of curiosity in his expression, brow drawn down and furrowed. He squinted at her as he took a sip of his drink, wondering why she looked so familiar. Had he met her before? She smelled like wolf, but not strongly, and also magic; he'd definitely never met her before. Was she another hybrid? Wyatt scoffed a little. How many more of those were going to spring up? He came from a time where Klaus was the only hybrid, and Klaus' other half had still been repressed at that point. It seemed all of the bloodlines were becoming impure... that Mathieu kid, who Wyatt had learned was turned by Klaus. That's why Wyatt was here, actually. Bringing Boone to meet Stefan and Damon hadn't been his only excuse to return to this land, oh no. Klaus' name had been popping up a lot recently. Wyatt intended to find his old best friend.
Hope screwed her mouth up a little and cocked her head to one side, examining the Stefan clone in further detail once she was sure he'd lost the will to stare at her any longer. He had a distant look on his face now, she knew how that was. Hope raised a single eyebrow at the fact that she couldn't find a single difference, except for the fact that this Stefan looked a whole of a lot more badass. She decided to gently probe at his mind with her magic, or even just his aura, but he was on high alert, so she decided quickly against it, slipping off the barstool and attempting to reach the pool table again without drawing the guy's attention. Wyatt sensed a small tug at his head that soon slipped away again, and he snapped himself back into the room. Someone had just tried to get into his mind, and he knew exactly who it was likely to have been. He turned around and caught sight of the familiar looking girl trying to make her way to the pool table. An eyebrow arching, he decided upon approaching her. He picked up his glass and took a large sip from it, swallowing it down as he walked over to her. She had settled herself at the head of the pool table, leaning her hip against its side, twirling a pool cue on its bottom between her slender fingers, and Wyatt tilted his head to admire her for a moment, pausing a few feet away from the table. She was a beauty, that was clear. He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, shaking his head, and moved the rest of the way toward her.
Hope was hyper aware of the Stefan clone's movements, but she managed to keep herself level, calm, and her heartbeat flawlessly steady, just like Aunt Rebekah had taught her. When she sensed he had come to a stop right infront of her, she looked up at him with a polite inquisitive look on her face, taking her time to do so. She raised her eyebrows, as if waiting for him to speak, assuming he did have something to say, as he had come all the way over here. Practically, Hope knew she had nothing to worry about, her Aunt Rebekah had informed her that she was some kind of unique cross breed of a witch, a vampire and a werewolf, and was the first of her kind. The power she could feel inside her should have done more to settle her nerves, but Hope never thought practically in these situations, all logic left her and she was just as panicked as any human would have been in her situation. She was needlessly praying for Stefan to show up, and soon. Wyatt could sense the distress rolling off of her in waves, and he decided a little thought-sorting would do him some good, giving him the upper hand. In a few seconds, he'd learned that she was a tribrid (Jesus Christ, people needed to stop cross-breeding like mutts) and that she was irrational. Alright, he could handle that.
"Hello," he said to her, sticking his hand out for her to shake. "My name is Wyatt De Sauveterre." He spoke with a voice that was soft but clear, tone low, and cocked his head to the side a little, a single eyebrow raised in expectation as he looked at her and waited for her to take his hand and shake it.
Hope glanced down at his hand, attempting to swallow lightly, but had underestimated the lump in her throat, she brought her eyes back up to meet his, maintaining direct eye contact with him as she shook his hand, a power play her aunt had taught her. Hope had never been warned against giving anyone her name, as her Aunt Rebekah said they were never around anywhere for long enough for it to matter, "Hope Mikaelson. A pleasure." She greeted, matching his level of formality without missing a beat, proud of herself for managing to act so well in her circumstances. Hope tilted her head a little, suddenly noticing something, this version of Stefan was somehow and inexplicably more handsome. Which didn't make sense, as he looked exactly the same as her friend, but there was still that unidentifiable difference. She realised she had gotten caught up in her thoughts and immediately shook herself out of her daze. Wyatt nodded along slowly; Mikaelson. Of course. So, she was somebody's daughter... she had to have been. She wasn't a day over twenty, most likely, and he'd never met her before. She certainly wasn't on the scene thirty-forty years ago. Wyatt let a small smirk tug at the corners of his lips, the likes of which was a little lopsided. He found that most of the people he encountered appreciated a smirk on his face more than a genuine smile.
"A pleasure to meet you," he said, bending a little to lift her hand to his lips as he maintained her eye contact, placing a light kiss to the backs of her knuckles. "Mikaelson, you say? You weren't on the scene a few decades ago, definitely not an original."
Hope inhaled sharply, forgetting to keep control of her heartbeat, as it spiked the moment his lips touched her hand, her eyes widened and then she hurriedly got herself together. Controlling her heartbeat once more, and having slipped the polite facade on once more, she shook her head a little, "I've only ever been acquainted with one of them. I've been alive for twenty years, no more, no less, so far." She quirked an eyebrow at him, a small smile on her own lips as she glanced at his, promptly looking away, the smirk bothering her. She frowned a little, feigning interest in the other occupants of the grill rather than him. Wyatt nodded his head in interest, letting her hand go as he stood straight once more and took a sip from her glass. The uptick in her heartbeat had him intrigued, but he dismissed it and was otherwise more interested in the way she was determinedly avoiding his gaze. He tilted his head to one side a little, brow furrowed.
"I see," he said, glancing her up and down. "Which one?" He asked, expression one of apathy. His cool demeanour would avoid any suspicions of his motives and make sure he didn't end up on the wrong side of an invasive question. He licked his lips a little and propped himself against the pool table. Hope sighed, making a small agitated gesture with her hands, throwing them up a little, and then crossing them over her chest, giving Wyatt the attention he wanted and turned to face him, "I'm sorry, but I don't feel comfortable with disclosing information about my family to a stranger." She stated as calmly as she could, struggling to maintain her perfect facade with the panicked way she was feeling. This was exactly what Aunt Rebekah had always feared beneath all her confidence. Hope narrowed her eyes a little at him, taking a step closer to him, "Why are you so interested anyway? Do you know my family?"
Wyatt arched an eyebrow and shrugged as she told him she was uncomfortable about disclosing familial information, muttering "fair enough" under his breath before swallowing down the remainder of his drink. He licked his lips and glanced at her, tipping his head nonchalantly in a vague gesture.
"I've spent a lot of time with all the Mikaelson's over the years," he told her, revealing no more than that. If she wanted to be cryptic, well, he was more than capable of stepping up to her game. "And," he began, "if you'd allow me the honour of getting to know you better and removing that... unfortunate label of "strangers", then I'd be quite pleased."
Hope had begun to speak again, but stuttered, faltered and abruptly stopped, beginning to worry her lower lip between her teeth, a small crease in her brow. This guy was experienced and this guy was smooth, she dropped her gaze to his shoes, and let it travel up until she met his intense stare again, he had this way of making her feel small and insignificant, while also causing her to feel like the only thing that mattered and like she was the centre of the world, the most fascinating person he'd ever met, at the same time. It was unnerving. Hope quickly decided to abandon Stefan at the grill, when she was definite that no-one was looking, she blurred away from him, grabbed her coat and bag, and resuming her walking pace, strolled as casually as she could manage, out of the diner. She prayed to the heavens that he would not persist, and follow her. She wasn't sure she could resist him if he continued to smother her with all that charm and expert manipulation. Wyatt frowned. In one instant, Hope had been right in front of him. Wyatt had blinked, and in the next instant she was gone. Right then. Well. Wyatt shook his head and glanced around, before setting his glass on the side and setting it down. He zipped out and stopped in front of her, eyebrows arched. He was faster and physically far more capable than her, having been around for 161 years longer than she had.
"Well," he drawled, glancing her up and down before bringing his hand up to inspect his nails in a display of apathetic offence. "That was rather rude," he said, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his fingertips before glancing up and looking into her eyes, an unimpressed expression on his face as he cocked an eyebrow up and tilted his head at her. "What exactly do you think I'm going to do to you, take you home and chain you up as a sex slave? Please, I'm a gentleman and I can smell the magic leaking from every pore. You need to learn to better conceal that, by the way."
Hope stiffened, almost shrieking as he appeared abruptly infront of her. She raised her head defiantly to stare him down, a fire burning in her eyes, and her cheeks uncharacteristically flushed. As he started speaking, she knew there was no way she could beat him, the realisation of that suddenly hit her, and she slowly relaxed her stance, interlocking her fingers behind her back, and simply gazing at him as he talked, she nodded dispassionately, sighing lightly, "Okay, alright. Point made." She conceded when he had finished his little verbal assault, "What do you want from me?" She asked, her tone notably softer, she directed her eyes at the floor, restraining herself from being cocky and arrogant. This was about self survival, and protecting Rebekah. This was the wisest tactic. Wyatt arched his eyebrow, tucking his fingers halfway into the pockets of his jeans as he listened to her. At her question, he huffed and glanced up at the sky, squinting at the moon, before he looked back down at her once more, twirling his daylight ring around on his finger in his pocket.
"I want to get to know you," he said simply. "Why do you assume I have an ulterior motive? Has your life really been so tragic thus far?" He knew exactly how wrong someone's life could go before they were twenty, but he knew very little about this young girl so far. On the one hand, she didn't seem very much a victim of any sort of trauma; on the other hand, everybody has a story and she was a child of the Mikaelson's - that family was screwed up like nobody's business. He was rather disdainful of their dynamic, if he was honest. "Together always and forever" didn't exactly mean a lot when they were stabbing each other in the back all of the time, or in Klaus's case: literally stabbing them in the chest. Hope stared at him for the longest time, he really was sticking to his guns, "And that's all you want?" She inquired, tiredly. Hope pondered briefly over what Aunt Rebekah would think, and then came to the conclusion that, if she wasn't willing to tell Hope why they were always moving, why she wasn't with her mother and father (wherever and whoever they are), and what the great danger they were constantly aware of was; then she had no right to be upset if Hope couldn't take the necessary precautions to prevent whatever it was they were supposed to be so afraid of, and that it was Rebekah's fault for leaving Hope so uninformed and therefore, vulnerable. Hope gestured meekly for Wyatt to start walking as she did, resting one hand on the strap of her bag, and letting the other swing freely, "What do you want to know?"
Wyatt nodded in answer to her question, and glanced her up and down before looking at her face. He paid particular attention to the war of conflicting thoughts and emotions flashing through her mind and eyes, the way her lips tightened and her shoulders tensed slightly, before all of a sudden she was gesturing for Wyatt to walk with her. He turned and fell into step besides her, thumbs tucking into the belt loops of his jeans as he looked down at her.
"Whatever you're willing to tell me," he told her, shrugging mildly. "I just wanna know you."
Hope couldn't prevent the slow smile spreading, she ducked her head a little, trying to angle it in a way so that he couldn't see the expression she was making, before she quickly stifled it, the cool facade replacing it. She arched an eyebrow at him instead, "I was being honest when I said I only knew one Mikaelson. My aunt Rebekah. She won't tell me anything." She shrugged infinitesimally, as if to indicate it didn't bother her, even though her tone clearly dictated that it did. Hope ran a hand through her hair and glanced at him quickly before going on, taking his silence as a sign for her to continue talking, "I was born this way, apparently, as some insane beast thing." She made small gestures with her hands as she talked, "Parts witch, vampire and werewolf."
Wyatt quirked his eyebrows, feigning surprises as if he hadn't already read her mind and got that down about her.
"I see," he hummed, a complicated expression coming over his face. She had to be Klaus' daughter. Had to be. Wyatt felt that he was finally onto something, some kind of lead. She only knew Rebekkah, however, which could raise potential problems. Either way, he would pursue her for now. "That's interesting," he murmured, before flashing her a small grin. "How about we do this over dinner?" He asked her, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her.
Hope stopped walking and pivoted to face him, gazing at him unashamedly, tilting her head suspiciously, "You want to have dinner?" She glanced down and checked her watch, "At ten o'clock at night?" She asked, her voice rising in pitch a little to emphasise her incredulity. Hope sighed and looked into the far off street, trying to remember where would be open at this time, she was pretty much resigned to giving Wyatt what he wanted at this point, she had to admit, though, it was mainly curiosity that drove her. Twenty years of unanswered questions and then suddenly someone who had the potential to give them to her came along. Hope huffed, "I... accept. But-" She took a step forward, "You're paying." She looked at him a moment longer and then began to head off towards the nearest restaurant. Wyatt bit down on his bottom lip as a partially smug, mostly pleased grin came across his face. She headed off with a determined stride, leaving him standing there for a moment as he glanced at the place where she'd been only seconds before with a faintly victorious expression on his face, before he turned on his heel and followed after her, jogging a few steps to catch up.
"I hold no protests to that," he told her, leaning down a little and speaking close to her ear as his eyes remained ahead of him, "I was going to pay anyway, whether you liked it or not." He straightened up once more, shucking his leather jacket a little "And to answer your question about my timing, well, when you're immortal, is time really ever an issue?" He asked, looking down at her with an expectant raise of his eyebrow. Hope shrugged her shoulders in a way that said 'fair enough', and craned her neck to look up at him for a bit as she spoke, "Pfft. Of course not. But, unfortunately, Mr. Wyatt, the rest of the world does not apparently run on the supernatural clock, as this restaurant we're headed to is only open until midnight at the latest, and that is because it is connected to a club." Hope gave him a pointed look, stuffing her hands in her pockets and returning her head to face forward, eyes fixed on the telltale neon lighting in the near distance.
Wyatt made a noise that suggested he was displeased to have this little fact pointed out to him, and sighed as he glanced up at the waxing moon hung heavy over a wispy cloud in the dark canvas of night sky. He licked his lips, lost in thought for a moment, recalling memories and adventures he'd experienced between the murder of each person on his revenge list.
"I've always preferred places like Melbourne and New York... and New Orleans," he told her idly. "Those cities know how to party, and they sure don't have a bed time. It was rather crazy, and exciting. I had some of my best nights in those cities." A wistful sigh escaped his lips and he shook his head as he looked forwards again, eyeing the neon sign that was now above them. "Here, I take it," he said, placing a gentle hand on her back and turning them to head inside. Hope had begun watching him with a slightly awed look on her face as he talked about the past, places he'd been. Hope had always had a weakness for the way people looked when they talked enthusiastically about something they were passionate about, and here Wyatt was, doing exactly that. It's like even his subconscious knew what to do in order to be charming at all times, when he wanted to be, Hope could imagine him having an entirely terrifying, sadistic side. Something she wanted to avoid at all costs, tribid or not. The sudden contact between them almost caused Hope to jump, and effectively drawing her out of her reverie, she snapped her gaze away from his face as fast as she could, her head blurring with vampiric speed, due to the desperation in the motion. She cleared her throat and gave Wyatt a brief nod, "Yep... this would be the one."
Wyatt eyed her curiously for a moment, eyebrows raised, but shrugged it off as they made their way into the restaurant. He led them towards a table in the far corner of the restaurant that was next to a window, a view of the street looking rather lovely, trees lining the sidewalks and street lamps setting them in an orange glow, stars scattered throughout the sky shining brightly. Wyatt pulled out a chair for Hope, gesturing with his other hand for her to sit down.
Hope took the seat, nodding appreciatively towards him and smiling at the waiter as she did so. She fidgeted a little in her seat as she waited for him to sit down himself, shrugging off her jacket and tucking her bag under the table. She crossed her arms delicately on the table, admiring their surroundings, "Wow. I'm impressed, for a nightclub restaurant, this place is fancy." She leaned forward conspiratorially, smirking, "candlelight and everything." She grinned at him and sat back in her seat, glancing up at the waiter and nodding pleasantly at him. Wyatt glanced at her as he shrugged off his leather jacket, the muscles in his arms flexing with each movement as he hung it over the back of his chair. He slid into his seat and scooted forward, closer to the table. His eyebrows arched, an amused expression coming across his face as she emphasised "everything", and he glanced at the waiter, accepting the menus offered.
"You would like that, wouldn't you," he smirked a little as the waiter left, leaning forward and whispering dramatically, "candlelight for your inner witch."
Hope's smirk deepened, and she pretended to be offended, shaking her head slowly, "I'll tell the other witches. You'd better watch your ass." She tried to keep the serious expression, but honestly, if she couldn't take herself seriously, how was he supposed to be convinced she was being so? Hope burst into a mini fit of giggles, fanning herself with her hand to calm herself down, shaking her head in an apologetic manner, "I'm sorry, I just couldn't, it was too much. I sounded like a hyped up, badass version of Bonnie." She sighed and smiled down at the table, cheeks a little flushed.
Wyatt shook his head with a small laugh, actually genuinely amused for once. He hummed, head tipping up a little as he arched his eyebrows, opening out his menu.
"Indeed," he said nonchalantly, humming a little. He averted his eyes and glanced down at the menu, skimming through the meals that were available with a speculative eye. He licked his lips, brows furrowing a little as he pondered over a rare steak with grilled vegetables and chips. He flicked his eyes up to look at Hope, a half smirk on his face. "Would it be cliche of me to order a rare steak?"
Hope resisted the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes, and instead shook her head, lips pressed together firmly, eyes pointedly fixed on her own menu, "Not at all. Not once have I ever heard a vampire order a rare steak outside of a movie, it's something I sorely need to experience." She informed him casually, never taking her eyes off of the menu. Hope sighed, deciding on her order and folding the menu up, crossing one leg over the other, and resting her hands in her lap, she looked over at him, "Anything more specific you want to know about me?"
Wyatt smirked more broadly and shook his head, folding his menu up and setting it in the middle of the table for the waiter to come and collect. He sat back in his seat and rested his palms on top of the table, fingers drumming one by one in a flowing rhythm before settling flat. He tipped his head to the side a little as she asked him her question, and shrugged a little in response. He tucked his legs underneath his chair and pushed his feet behind each of the front legs, clasping his hands together and leaning forward.
"Nothing specific," he said casually. "Just tell me a little about yourself."
Hope blinked at him in annoyance, it was difficult to think of something on the spot, she brought her hand up to play with her lower lip as she mulled over her answer, "I don't know my parents' names, or where they are. Heck, I don't know a single thing about either of them apart from the fact that they're alive." She took a moment to gaze sadly at the candle, before snapping out of it, and remembering she had company, carried on, "I, uh, was born in New Orleans. I have this weird kind of ritual slash tradition type thing going, where I work as a barista in every place we go to..." She trailed off, waving her hand to indicate there was more, "Etcetera. Any of this interesting to you?"
Wyatt nodded slowly as he listened, interest particularly piqued to learn that she'd been born in New Orleans and most definitely when he heard her mention a ritual, but sadly she didn't continue on that. He nodded as she asked him if he found her information interesting, propping himself on his elbows and bringing his clasped hand up to rest his chin on his knuckles, lips pursed.
"You're interesting to me," he told her honestly, tilting his head slightly. His gaze quickly skated over her form, before he glanced back up to her eyes and hummed. "Ritual, you say?" He asked, licking his lips and drawing his bottom lip into his mouth as his eyebrows furrowed. Hope smirked, not hesitating to roll her eyes this time, although a little pink in the cheeks, after his compliment, "I don't know why I do it, it's just kind of a constant. Something I don't really have in my life, a reliable factor. You know?" She paused to wave the waiter over, "I always make sure that if I get a job, I work as a barista." She shrugged loosely, leaning back in her chair once again.
Wyatt nodded his head, humming a little as he absorbed what she was saying.
"I see," he said, un-linking his fingers and setting his right arm down across the table, index finger and thumb of his left hand rubbing over his jawline as his eyes drifted to the right of her a little, lost in thought for a moment before he brought himself back into the room and looked at her once more. "Well, that's certainly not the worst job in the world," he conceded, "so fair enough." He crossed his arms over the table top and an inquisitive expression took over. "What do you do for fun?"
Hope considered that for a moment, biting down on her lower lip and looking towards the ceiling, not looking at him once she began to list off, "Reading, drawing, writing, singing; occasionally, cooking, baking, dodgeball, hiking..." She trailed off and glanced at him, raising her hands up defensively, "Rebekah is very protective, and doesn't let me go out much, and obviously, for good cause." She stated, gesturing towards Wyatt himself, who represented the danger. Wyatt smirked a little, amused, and cocked his head back and a little to the side, eyeing her with raised eyebrows, gesturing towards himself.
"Moi?" He questioned, "Are you insinuating that I'm dangerous?" He asked, tone raised with mock offense as he bit down on his lip to conceal a large grin. He placed a hand over his slow-beating heart and scoffed, "Mademoiselle, vous me blesser." He licked his lips and picked up the glass water bottle between them, pouring himself a drink. Hope narrowed her eyes fractionally at him, "Yes." She deadpanned. Then she rested her elbows on the table and placed her chin on top of her hands, eyes following his very move, "You are the most dangerous thing I've ever encountered, and yet here I am... Dinner for two." She rolled her eyes at herself and then her eyes lit up a little, amusement spreading over her features, "Oh, there you go. See? Another fact about Hope. She makes poor decisions that are rarely well thought out and have this almost tragic tendency to end badly." She sighed dramatically, a small smile betraying that she found the whole thing funny.
Wyatt was fairly amused, shaking his head a little, eyes sparkling faintly with mirth.
"Ah, mademoiselle, I think I'll forgive you for it," he sighed dramatically, before sitting up a little more. He winked at her before averting his attention to the waiter that was approaching, straightening his spine. "Hello, yes, I'll have the rare steak and a glass of red," he told the waiter, glancing over at Hope, "and for the lady..." He made a vague gesture towards her with his hand, indicating for her to give the waiter her order. Hope wriggled her nose and glanced down at the menu she'd set down to reassure herself of the name of the dish, "Uh, yes, hey, I'll have the nicoise salad, please." She gave the waiter another one of her polite nods, adding a friendly wink to the gesture this time, and handing him her menu when he asked for it. Hope watched him leave to deliver their order, and then let her eyes flit back to Wyatt, who was still smirking, "So you're French, huh?"
Wyatt watched as the waiter left before slowly averting his eyes back to Hope. He clasped his hands and interlocked his fingers once again, eyebrows raising a little, and scooted his chair in a little closer, crossing his ankles underneath the seat of it, leaning forward once again.
"Yes," he said simply, flashing her a small grin. "Why, are you interested in knowing my history?" He asked, tilting his head to the side a little to communicate his curiosity somewhat more effectively. His eyes seemed to roam freely of their own accord, taking in the details of her facial features and documenting the slopes of her shoulders and the fragility of her limbs.
Hope rested one of her elbows on the table and cupped her chin with her hand, staring at him with an indulgent smile, "You look like you have a wild history. I love me a good vamp story. My favourite so far has been Stefan's." She widened her eyes a little when she said 'Stefan' to emphasise it, trying to communicate the greatness of the story. Hope looked towards the window and then back to Wyatt, but then her breath got caught in her throat, and her heart skipped a beat momentarily, as suddenly the lights in the restaurant had been dimmed, and the candlelight illuminated Wyatt's face, emphasising all his best features, his cheekbones, the curve of his lips, and his eyes stood out more. It was like the universe wanted her to go down the wrong path. She blinked forcefully and shook her head infinitesimally, throwing a quick smile in his direction to try and cover up her slip. Wyatt looked at her with a certain level of intensity, dark eyes seeming to shimmer in the flicker of candlelight. His ears were attuned to the rhythm of her pulse, and he couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at one corner of his mouth.
"Stefan," he began, "has a... story worthy of horrors. Mine is much more worthy of the title... hmm, a psychological thriller, perhaps. Even so, my doppelganger and I aren't that different, even if he likes to pretend we are." Wyatt shrugged a little and sat up straighter, admiring the flush of Hope's cheeks and the shadows cast by her eyelashes onto her cheekbones.
Hope gave him a look that was accompanied by a motion that said 'Touche', and then patted her cheek with her hand lightly, leaning forward, looking excited, "Oh, man. I have got to hear this." She enthused, eyes shining and slightly widened in what could only be described as pure awe and fascination. She bit down lightly on her lower lip, watching him expectantly. Wyatt gave her a considering look, before his lips pursed and he shrugged in a nonchalant gesture, nodding his head in a fashion that communicated "fair enough", sitting back in his chair.
"Where would you like me to begin?" He asked her, tilting his head. "The part where the De Sauveterre's were a happy little family living in a mansion on a hill top next to a river that crossed over to corn field in France, or the part where our family tried to kill my brother and I once they realised what we were, what he was becoming, and so I murdered my parents and he murdered our sister?"
Hope made an inaudible "oooh" sound, doing the motion with her lips, her eyes still wide and inexplicably interested. She was hanging on to every word, Wyatt speaking in the hypnotising way he does, twinned with candlelight? There was no way she could tear her eyes away, and she was fairly sure she would listen to him speak all night if he asked her to. Hope cocked her head in indecision, "How about just the beginning, wherever you're comfortable starting with?" She suggested softly, her voice was somewhat quiet and was actually verging on being a whisper. Wyatt blinked a little, surprised by the way she'd neither flinched nor shied away. He'd never received such an awed response. People either looked at him with disgust or ran away in terror. He swallowed a little, brow furrowing, before nodding slightly.
"Right, yes, well," he said, clearing his throat, "let's see. Um. My parents were Phillipe and Clémence De Sauveterre, and they named me after an English poet, actually, Sir Wyatt Thomas. We were a wealthy family... we lived in a large manor in the French countryside on a small hill that rested next to a fast-flowing river, and across the river we had corn and sunflower fields that my father cropped and sold. I had three siblings: Victoire, my older sister, Jakobe, my younger brother, and Adélaïde, our baby sister. We actually lived with the Salvatore's, and my older sister married into their family when she was twenty-five. Giuseppe's wife died giving birth to Damon, and so Victoire married him and they had Stefan together. Damon wasn't actually Giuseppe's son... my brother was more scandalous than I'd given him credit for."
Hope's whole posture changed immediately, her expression shifted to one of shock and slight alarm, and she sat up completely straight in her seat, putting a hand to her mouth to complete the stance. She shook her head slowly, laughing in small, shocked huffs, eyes latching back onto his as she settled down again, "Woah. That was definitely not something I was expecting to hear. So, Damon is a bastard? As in, a bastard? In the literal sense of the word? That is amazing. Oh, and so fascinating. I'm already loving this more than Stefan's." She enthused, bouncing in her seat a little. Hope had always been more than an active member of any audience, mainly because she always got so immersed in anything. But she seemed to be reacting to this more than anything, one theory that sprung to mind is that it was because someone other than Aunt Rebekah was being honest and telling her about their life, and unlike Aunt Rebekah, there were no coverups, no mysterious plot holes or half truths, no concealed identities or shameless lies. It was something Hope appreciated more than she could ever communicate. Wyatt eyed Hope with amusement and nodded his head.
"Indeed," he said. "Damon was a bastard child. But anyway... the happy family was soon corrupted. I was turned, unwillingly, when I was twenty-one, and when my brother was nineteen he sustained an injury and I lost control. I fed on him to the brink of death, and the only way to save him was to turn him. So I did. Except my parents found us as I was turning him, and it was all downhill from there. I was high on blood lust and survival instincts - when my parents tried to stake me, I ripped their heads off. My younger sister was bleeding, and Jakobe had just been turned, so his transition was completed by the taking of our baby sister's life, and we fled."
Hope's expression immediately sombered and she crossed her arms on the table, simply nodding sadly. Her eyes scoured his, the reflection of the flickering candle reflected in them, but she could see no further than that. Hidden depths. She cleared her throat and scratched at her throat, "So... are you and Jakobe the only remaining De Sauveterres?" She inquired tentatively, expertly pronouncing the surname, impressing even herself. She had not been aware she was so capable of doing an authentic french accent. She took note of that new skill, she was sure it would come in handy at some point. Wyatt's expression darkened considerably further, and he shook his head.
"The bloodline inevitably goes on, I'm sure; but I'm the only surviving De Sauveterre from my family. I stayed with my uncle, aunt and their children for some time, but once they died I moved on. But my family? I'm the last," he explain, eyes fixed to the table but not seeing the table itself. There was a far away look in his eyes as he spoke, voice harsh and rough like sand paper scraping concrete. "My brother was kidnapped and burned to death in the 1864 war in Mystic Falls. I took my revenge on them over the years."
Hope felt this strong and what she considered to be a highly inappropriate urge to hug the man she had met only today. It had not even been one day that they had known each other, and yet, she felt like she knew him. As if they'd known each other for years and years. She supposed it was probably just the intimacy of the moment, and actually did contemplate hugging Wyatt, but a stronger instinct told her that there was no way he would appreciate or welcome the gesture. Besides, it would be considered an odd thing to do, considering they were barely acquaintances. Hope pulled her drink towards her, the waiter had delivered their drink orders to them whilst Wyatt had been in the midst of telling his story, and neither of them had notcied as they had been too wrapped up in the other. She took a quick sip to ease her dry throat,
"What about Damon and Stefan? They're technically your family, right?" She asked, her voice somewhat husky as it had been a considerable amount of time since she had last spoken.
Wyatt shrugged a little and nodded, glancing up at Hope.
"Stefan and Damon are my doppelganger nephews, yes," he conceded, raking his teeth over his bottom lip. "I don't really see them much, because it's a pain in the ass. Can you imagine what that feels like, Hope?" He questioned, looking up into her eyes. He wore an open expression at this point, and there was a pained darkness to his aura. "Can you imagine what it feels like to see two vampire brothers with the exact faces of you and your own dead brother, living together, breathing together, saving each other's lives and drinking together? Just being together?"
Hope felt a distinct pain in her chest, and an electrified feeling flooding through her at the sudden and unexpected demonstration of feeling and emotion from the self proclaimed sociopath. She'd seen more than the reflection of the candlelight in his eyes, and he almost looked to be in pain as he talked about The Salvatore Brothers, and true to Hope's knack for immersion, she put herself in his situation. She imagined it so vividly that it almost scared her, the electrifying feeling that lingered only added to her imagination. Hope pictured herself with a younger brother, and then suddenly without one. She could almost feel the pain she associated with it, it was real and numbing and terrifying. Hope could only imagine feeling a pain that consumed you everytime you saw the faces of your own descendants, as they survived and strived, never once realising how much their lives are desired, just how lucky they are. Hope gripped the edge of the table tightly, only just managing to snap out of he reverie in time to surpress the tribrid strength that would reduce the table to splinters. She looked slowly up and directly into Wyatt's eyes with fresh pain and a somber look of understanding. Her empathy always did this to her. It was why her aunt sometimes called her a failed vampire.
Wyatt watched Hope closely and carefully, her reaction both intriguing and alarming. He frowned heavily and took a breath, sipping back his red wine harshly. In an instant, it was as if those feelings he'd experienced had never been there. It was an uncanny trait among people like himself, the ability to shut out emotions and simply not feel a thing. He quirked his eyebrows up a little and gave Hope a small smile, one that wasn't entirely genuine, as he set his glass back down on the tabletop and licked his lips.
"Anyway," he said, "I think that's enough for tonight. If I give it all away, you'll have no reason to see me again."
A smile quickly appeared on Hope's face again, Wyatt had managed to produce from her the exact emotion he had wanted her to feel. It was almost unnerving how absolute his ability to do that was. She was just about to say something when the waiter arrived with their food, she obligingly moved her glass out of the way and grinned appreciatively at the food, thanking the waiter profusely and assuring him she thought it looked delicious, as he had prompted her to do so. When the waiter had eventually left them, she returned her attention to Wyatt, along with an arched eyebrow, and then replied to his previous words, "Again? Did you not get the information you needed from me? Just ask me outright, I'm willing to be open with you." She stated, a little confused. No-one had ever been interested in her for anything other than something she could give them. Information, her body, her blood, her mind. There had been too many people who proved to be more interested in gaining something from her, and that she ultimately always refused to give them.
Wyatt arched an eyebrow as he took the cutlery and napkin from the pot in the centre of the table, handing a set to Hope and taking a set for himself. He unraveled the knife and fork from the napkin, setting the napkin on his lap before beginning to cut into his steak. He took a bite and chewed slowly, savouring the taste, before sipping his wine and finally opening his mouth to speak.
"I asked to get to know you," Wyatt stated, giving her a look, "not if I could extract information from you. Honey, you have nothing for me to gain by pursuing you. I'm just interested in you, as I said earlier."
Hope frowned at that, shaking her head in disagreement,
"But, why? I don't see what you gain here." She argued, stabbing delicately at her salad, concentrating more on that than Wyatt's reaction, the frown remaining on her face. She popped a collection of egg, tuna, lettuce and olive into her mouth and munched on it calmly, raising her eyebrows at him from across the table, awaiting a response. Wyatt tilted his head, eyes skimming over Hope's form, the way she postured herself and the glow of her skin under the candlelight.
"I'm not interested in gaining anything," Wyatt said slowly, looking Hope in the eyes to try and emphasise his point. "I'm not after information or any material value or social ranking. I'm just interested in you. I really wish you'd stop questioning my motive."
Hope sighed, giving a slight jerk of her head as she did so, she screwed up her mouth and then brought her hands up to make gestures as she apologised,
"I'm sorry, I just... I don't know. No-one's ever actually wanted that from me before. Motive free, you know? But, I feel like I can take you as being honest and sincere about this, so..." She crossed her arms over her chest and awkwardly averted her gaze from his, "I believe you, and I would also like to get to know you, too." She confessed, pretending to be interested in picking a small piece of thread off of her top. Wyatt eyed her closely for a moment, listening to the beat of her heat, before he nodded with a small, actually sincere smile.
"Good," he said quietly, before cutting into his steak and collecting it onto his fork with some salad. He scooped it into his mouth and glanced outside through the window, watching the occasional pedestrian make their way by. Mystic Falls constantly contradicted itself, in that it was quiet yet often lively, mild yet its crime rate spiked a lot, and small-scale but sometimes so busy you'd think that its population was far greater. Hope nodded amicably, and returned her attention to her salad, she'd underestimated her appetite before, and the food here had surprisingly turned out to be delicious. She'd underestimated the restaurant, too. She glanced up at Wyatt occasionally, as they ate in a comfortable silence. She noticed that both of them liked to people watch, Wyatt seemingly preferring to watch those actually outside the restaurant and on the street, whereas Hope was content enough with gazing at their fellow patrons.
Wyatt turned away from watching those outside and spent a few short moments studying Hope's face. She was undoubtedly beautiful, that was clear, with long, wavy hair in a gorgeous shade of golden blonde, and fluttering eyelashes that cast shadows over her cheekbones. He wondered if there were more to her, anything about her that made her stand out from the crowd. A pretty face didn't mean all that much when it stood alone. He frowned a little, eyes falling down to his plate as he ate and drank. He definitely wanted to learn more about this tribrid. Hope was painfully aware of Wyatt's eyes on her face, it was the biggest amount of pressure she was sure she'd felt since the last move, his gaze was so intense and calculating. She sighed and fidgeted a little uncomfortably, trying to concentrate on her food, she did try, and managed to keep it up for a bit, before she couldn't stand it and laid her knife and fork on her plate, clasping her hands together and addressing Wyatt,
"So, where are you staying?"
Wyatt glanced up from his plate once more and looked at Hope curiously.
"I have a room at the Salvatore's, actually," he said, nodding once as his eyes drifted to the side slightly in thought. "Only right that the nephews give their uncle a room to stay in when he visits, I suppose. Even if it is a little weird, two of us with the same face being in the same house." Wyatt shrugged a little and set down his cutlery, almost finished with his meal. He picked up his glass of wine instead and took a large mouthful, the drink almost finished.
Hope tilted her head curiously, at a sudden thought that had come to her,
"So, are Stefan and Damon the only doppelgangers in the bloodline?" She recalled the way Katherine liked to assume the role of Elena, and trick all of her friends and loved ones. Hope wondered just how complicated things could possibly get in Mystic Falls, if there were Salvatore doppelgangers running around, too. Wyatt shook his head, no, and sighed, setting his glass down.
"God knows how many there are," he said wonderingly, glancing out of the window once more. "A doppelganger was born every time another doppelganger died or became undead. I don't know if this has continued since Silas' destruction or not. So many of the stories and tales get twisted so that the truth isn't clear anymore. After all, Silas was from the times of the Roman empire."
Hope nodded, shrugging a little to accompany the motion,
"I can't imagine having a doppelganger, it must be so surreal. I mean, I reckon Elena's got the shortest straw of them all; Katherine."
Wyatt smirked a little and shook his head, eyeing Hope.
"Elena isn't as great as she seems once you get to know her. There are many redeeming qualities about Katherine, I find," he said lightly, shrugging with a small chuckle. "My brother has another doppelganger... Boone. I recently spoke to him. I think we're... going places together," Wyatt said, nodding to himself.
Hope snorted lightly,
"I never claimed to like Elena." She pointed out, giving him a look, a broad yet tight lipped smile spreading across her face. She cocked her head at the news of another doppelganger, "Wait, so you mean that there are now two Stefan's and two Damon's in town?" She asked tiredly, her face expressing the exasperation she was feeling, "Lord. Elena will find a way to start a fuss, create a drama, and then make it all about her." Hope muttered, a little bitterly. She didn't approve of, or like Elena Gilbert, at all. The way that girl carried on with herself, everyone wrapped around her finger, a complete disregard for the lives of those who would sacrifice themselves to save her... it sickened Hope. She avoided that crowd as much as possible. Wyatt nodded his head, then found himself snorting as Hope muttered about Elena. It was rather amusing to him, the way people outside of Elena's friendship circle saw past her selfishness and her lack of respect for lives outside of her love interests and family. Her friends sacrificed way too much for her, Wyatt thought, when she'd only save herself or her romantic lover over them, most likely, if their lives were hanging in the balance. Wyatt scoffed a little just thinking about it, shaking his head; one who regarded their friends as less than family was not an honourable person, in his opinion. Hope was still scowling from her lingering thoughts about Elena. She narrowed her eyes at her salad and stabbed at the final bits of food left on her plate. She swallowed thickly and then set her cutlery down, patting at her lips with her napkin, and smiling politely at Wyatt. She turned her attention to those around them and found that all the previous couples had been replaced by new ones, had they really been there that long?
Wyatt finished his meal and crossed his cutlery over his plate in the same manner he'd been taught to do so when he was a young boy. He took the napkin from his lap and dipped the end in his glass of water, before wiping over and around his lips, then rubbed it over his hands before folding it and setting it on the plate. A final swig and his wine was drained, and he looked up to catch Hope observing the people within the restaurant. He made note of the fact that they'd been in here for an hour and a half, and that it was half past eleven. Wyatt found himself not wanting to retire home yet, but if she desired so then he'd part ways with her for tonight. He glanced back at her and lifted an eyebrow.
"Are you ready to go home, or would you like to spend a little longer with me?" He asked her mildly. Hope turned her head to him sharply, his question catching her off guard. She blinked once, twice, a third time, considering her options. Rebekah had gone out for the night, and wouldn't be back until late afternoon tomorrow. Hope chewed on her lower lip as she mulled over the decision, she looked up to watch him as she thought it over, drinking in his appearance, she finally ducked her head in a gracious nod,
"I would like to spend more time with you, yes. If you're sure you aren't tired or anything, it would be an honour." She smiled at him, and then signalled the waiter for the bill. Wyatt smiled faintly and nodded, shaking his head a little as he did so.
"No, no," he said. "I'm not tired yet. I'd be glad to spend some more time with you."
The waiter approached their table and Wyatt pulled his wallet from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, unfolding two twenties and handing them over to the waiter.
"Keep the change as a tip," he said nonchalantly, before rising from his seat and tucking his chair under it, walking around the table to Hope, who had been about to protest over not splitting the bill.
Wyatt chuckled a little and shook his head.
"You told me to pay, and I told you I was planning on doing so whether you liked it or not anyway," he told her, before holding his arm out. "And I was merely going to request that you allow me to escort you outside the building."
Hope rolled her eyes mockingly, slipping off her chair, as she had been at an elevated height, due to her being on the small side. She took Wyatt's arm gently and grabbed her jacket and bag,
"You know, I was joking about that.." She teased, craning her neck to grin up at him, the beginnings of a smirk on her face. Wyatt shrugged a little as they turned and began walking out of the restaurant, smirking a little as he glanced down at her.
"Well, it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to have you paying for a dinner I persuaded you into, now would it?" He questioned, grinning a little as he pushed the door open for them and guided Hope out onto the street. He took a large inhale, breathing in the fresh, crisp night air, exhaling slowly before glancing down at Hope again. "Anywhere on your mind?" He asked. Hope groaned, scowling in a somewhat exasperated fashion at nothing in particular,
"I was really praying that you would have somewhere in mind. I don't really know my way around town, or where to go, if I'm honest." She shrugged, temporarily loosening his grip on her arm before she dropped her shoulders again. Hope lifted one side of her mouth in a half apologetic nod, as she glanced up at him,
"I guess we could go to my place, but... Rebekah. You know?"
Wyatt looked down at Hope with amusement, shaking his head.
"I was merely asking in case," he told her reassuringly, before glancing around the area. There was no one around - they were either all inside the bars or at home. "Hop onto my back and I'll take you to a good place?" He asked, letting go of her arm and turning around to present his back to her. He glanced over his shoulder at her with a reassuring smile. Hope raised her eyebrows in amusement, patting his back,
"Is this your way of making a move? I could easily keep up, you know..." She trailed off, realising he was going to be stubborn about this, as he remained in his position, and so, she clambered up and onto his back, wrapping her legs loosely around his hips and hugging onto him, she let out a small 'phew'.
Wyatt shrugged a little and hoisted her legs up a little more, tucking his arms under her thighs.
"While that's true," he conceded, glancing up at her with a smug grin, "you're nowhere near as fast as I am, and you've no idea where we're going." Before she could even protest, he took off across the road and into the woods, the trees blurring past them at an incredible, impossible speed. The wind cut at their bodies harshly and every scent in the woods was like a split-second attack to the senses before a new one overtook the last. They traveled for perhaps twenty seconds, before they found themselves on the other side of the woods at the opposite end of town, at the top of a cliff that overlooked a landscape hundreds of feet below filled with city lights that somehow didn't block out the gleam of stars in the sky. Hope had started to laugh a split second before they took off, and finished it the moment they came to a standstill in their new location,
"Phew! How invigorating." She commented, rubbing her hand along his shoulder and squeezing it, indicating that she wanted to be let down, and as he did so, she moved into hybrid speed, accelerating the process so that she could get over to the ledge and see the view. Hope tucked her hair behind her ear and opened her mouth with a grin, completely in love with the view. Wyatt watched Hope for a moment as she admired the view, body lain on the ground as she peered over the edge of the cliff. Wyatt chuckled faintly before slowly making his way over to her, sitting down on the cliff's edge and letting his legs dangle. He plucked at some dry grass at his side, before leaning back on his hands and simply admiring the sky and the city lights. It was beautiful up here, enigmatic and alive, yet also silent as if the entire world had died. It was peaceful. The lights and shimmers were like souls, awakened in the silence of everything else.
Hope crossed her arms and rested her chin on top of them, without too much pressure. She leaned as far as she dared to over the edge, trying to see as much of what there is to see as she could. She sighed contentedly and then rolled over a little to face Wyatt, staring up at him, assuming a casual pose,
"I get this feeling this is a favourite spot of yours." She commented calmly, quietly, not wanting to rip him out of his reverie. Wyatt nodded softly as he looked around the place, sighing quietly to himself.
"This is the first place Jakobe and I stopped after running from the massacre we'd left behind," he told her, a rare moment of pure sincerity. "I remember their blood curdling screams to this day, and how the tables turned. I remember burning with this unimaginable pain, like nothing I'd ever felt before, as my father doused me in vervain and shoved a stake through my chest just shy of my heart, and I remember tugging it out and pushing it through his throat. I remember how, after all of that, arriving here was a blessing. There was just this silence, and it was only my brother and I. Survivors. It was the calm after the storm, and it felt like, for a few hours, everything had been washed away by the immensity of nothing but soundless shining lights. It felt like what I used to figure heaven was. Peace."
Hope knew there was nothing she could say that would offer any solace, or remedy to the pain. She could see it from where she was lying, even from the angle his face was held at, the pain in his face and in his eyes was clear to see. Hope didn't really know what it was like to lose family, as she'd only ever really had the one member, and in her short lifetime, she'd never experienced the horrors Wyatt had, but she still wanted to console him. Let him know there was someone who cared about him, and didn't want him to be hurting, even though it was next to impossible to erase. And so, Hope simply placed a hand on top of one of his, and squeezed it lightly, promptly removing it. Respecting his space and privacy. She only really needed to get the gesture across, and the implied message, and she figured that would be enough for Wyatt. Wyatt snapped out of his reverie a little, and glanced down at where his hand rested as Hope slipped her hand away once more. He glanced at her face, eyes searching her features, before hesitantly reaching out and taking her hand in his, gently lacing their fingers together as he did so, and resting the joined hands on the ground between them. He lay back next to her, looking up at the sky and simply allowing its enormity to consume him. A common misconception was that sociopaths couldn't appreciate things that didn't offer them value, things to gain. That was wrong. Every person has more than one side to him. Although, Wyatt pondered, perhaps it was true. The sight of all of this, after all, gave him some peace - and that was probably one thing he surely did not deserve.
Hope glanced at him, although she was not too surprised, which, in itself, surprised her. She ended up rather confused. Hope's stare trailed down from Wyatt and to their joined hands, with a small smile. She turned her attention back towards the sky, easily getting lost in the stars, and the promise of the sky. She craned her neck a little to try and find the moon, and quickly spotted it, up and to the left a bit, just about visible from her awkward self angling of her head. Satisfied with finding the moon, she returned to her original position, absentmindedly caressing the back of Wyatt's hand with her thumb. Wyatt closed his eyes, relaxed for the first time in quite a while. There was a gentle, humid breeze that swept through the trees and caressed their skin, ruffing their hair ever so slightly. He sighed a little, indulging in the feeling. As it was, he felt content to just lie here for hours. Hope would most likely want to return home at some point, though, which would be a shame, but he didn't mind. Should that happen, he'd just return here to watch the sunrise. This had always been the best spot for it in Mystic Falls, he knew. The sun would slowly lift above the horizon and cast everything in a golden orange glow, lighting up the buildings and nature. It was wonderful. The peace and silence lasted a while longer, but was abruptly interrupted by the sound of Hope's phone going off in her pocket. She huffed and gave Wyatt an apologetic look, deftly retrieving her hand from his and sat up, accepting the call and pressing the phone to her ear,
"Rebekah- Hi. You... What, now? Where?" She glanced around her in confusion, peering into the darkness in a slightly paranoid fashion, and then the voice on the other side of the call talked for a bit, Hope making little affirmative noises occasionally, as she got to her feet and paced about, "Well, of course- I- No?" Rebekah ranted on and on unnecessarily for a bit, before getting to the point, at which point Hope froze, raising a hand to her head to rake through her hair, visibly stressed, "Are you kidding me? We just moved in here. I just made friends- Rebekah- What? Why... I don't understand." She sighed in resignation, removing her hand from her hair and massaging her temple with it instead, "Fine. What time tomorrow? Right. I'll be there."
Wyatt frowned a little and sat up, brow furrowed heavily as he looked up at Hope. He hadn't been listening in on the conversation, not feeling it necessary to; but now he wished he had.
"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned. He stood up and dusted himself off, turning to look down at Hope. He tilted his head, chewing his bottom lip a little roughly as he awaited her response, curious and a little tense.
Hope shoved her phone into her pocket and took a step closer to him, peering up at him sadly,
"Apparently we're moving tomorrow. Again." She confided, raising her hands in an exasperated gesture, her eyes alternating from looking up into his, and glancing at the city lights behind him. She felt a lump rise in her throat, and she crossed her arms, frustrated,
"I mean, I just..." She sighed and unfolded one arm to gesture randomly, "I just made friends, and I like it here." She complained. Hope chewed on her lower lip and then glanced back up at him awkwardly,
"And now you're here, and that's just another reason not to leave."
Wyatt slowly took a step towards her, not liking this feeling at all.
"Don't go then," he said suddenly, taking her hands in his. He glanced down at them, before looking back up at her. "Not to sound like a Romeo - believe me, I'm not that kind of person - but you leaving now would be pretty awful. I'd like to get to know you some more, and you are twenty years old. It's not as if she can haul you wherever she pleases for the next eternity. If you don't want to leave, then don't," he said, licking his lips with a small frown as he gauged her reaction. Hope looked down to their hands, and stayed like that for approximately a minute, before sighing, and smirking a little, reluctantly,
"Rebekah will throw a fit, but... you're right. I'm twenty." She nodded, more to herself than to Wyatt. She gazed up at him a little earnestly, "I'm glad I met you, today. Imagine if one thing was different, say, for example, I hadn't seen you at the bar, and thought you were Stefan. Can you imagine? Our evenings would have gone so differently." She mused, frowning and focusing on the left side of the sky for a bit. Wyatt glanced to where she was looking, before he looked back at her and nodded.
"But, alas, the evening took its course, and you just shaped your own future with one decision - probably for the better," Wyatt nodded, smirking a little as he looked at her before tipping his head back to look up at the moon. He hummed a little, admiring it in the sky, before looking back at Hope once more.
Hope gave him an approving look, winking at him a tad cheekily,
"Very good. Wow. You're good. What a brilliant and highly relevant example." She chuckled and then sighs happily, "I'm going to need to get home now, and explain my plans to my crazy, irrational, verging on psychotic aunt. But wait, where am I going to live?" She groaned at the realisations of the implications and difficulties of staying behind. Wyatt shrugged a little, turning around and presenting his back to her once more.
"No idea," he said. "You have plenty of options, really. You're a vampire werewolf witch," he grinned, laughing a little. "The possibilities are endless, to be honest. You could even crash with me, if you wanted."
Hope squinted at him,
"At The Salvatore boarding house? But Elena's over there all the time..." She joked, shaking her head and giving a little huff as if it really bothered her, she laughed over it briefly before offering him a genuine smile, tilting her head shyly,
"But seriously, that sounds like a very good plan to me."
Wyatt nodded a little with a small chuckle.
"True," he told her. "Come on, hop on," he glanced over his shoulder at her, waiting. "And I also feel like I should inform you that I reside mostly in Beacon Hills at the moment, but I'm sure you'll survive without me. Or you could come with. I visit back and forth so you'll have friends in both places, should you decide to join me."
Hope hopped onto his back much easier this time, nodding along, making affirmative noises much like she did when she was on the phone with Rebekah,
"Sure, sure, I'll come along with you, just as long as it's somewhere we can stay. I'm done with the constant moving around." She resumed her hug like grip on him, and prepared for the travel.
Wyatt nodded once, then took off with her. The surroundings blurred by once again, and the winds cut harshly at their skin, but they arrived in town once more, and once they did he set Hope on her feet once more before turning around to face her with a small smirk, brow furrowed.
"Do I walk you home now or not?" He asked, only partly joking. Hope gave him a sly smile,
"You kind of have to know where it is in order to walk me home, otherwise it's just following..." She replied smoothly, patting his chest and pretending to go and walk off. Wyatt arched an eyebrow, lips parted and forming an 'o' shape, giving Hope a look that communicated a pleasant sort of almost-shock at her sass. He smirked a little and moved to follow her, leaning down next to her ear as he caught up with her, chuckling a little.
"Well, actually, if I'm walking next to you then technically it's just me accompanying you, isn't it?" He smirked. Hope sighed heavily, patting his cheek condescendingly, and giving a half roll of her eyes,
"I was so pleased with myself for that, you couldn't have just let me have it?" She moaned, with a laugh. Hope grinned fondly up at him and then jerked her head, indicating that he should come with her.
Wyatt chuckled a little, eyes closing on reflex as she tapped his cheek before he opened them again and gave her a smug look, straightening up his posture and falling into step with her, smoothly wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"I'm sorry, but I'm awful competitive," he mused. Hope grumbled and tried to shrug his arm off, but to no avail. She did a full roll of her eyes this time, but it was defeated by the smile on her face and the faint blush to her cheeks,
"My Aunt has this weird thing for Stefan, apparently they were together for a time. We're lucky she's not home until tomorrow."
Wyatt hummed and nodded a little, a satisfied note within him at how he'd gotten away with putting his arm around Hope.
"She was locked in a box for nearly a century, and the last thing she knew was being in love with him, back in the 20's, so when she woke up, well... that's the last thing she felt, so those feelings persisted to exist, I guess," Wyatt shrugged a little, teeth playing at his bottom lip as he pondered on it. Hope made an "ahh" sound, tutting sadly and shaking her head,
"Poor Aunt Bekah. All she wants is to be human." She confided, her own mind was not entirely with them, she was thinking back to the time when Rebekah had almost been human, only to have it snatched from her at the last second. Wyatt nodded a little, shrugging a single shoulder.
"Can't always get what we want, I suppose," he said lightly, pursing his lips. "I've always been on good terms with her, in all honesty," he added, glancing up at the building tops as they walked.
Hope smiled cheerily at that, turning to give him a view of it, raising her eyebrows,
"Good to know." She turned back to staring lazily at the occasional person they passed, grazing her teeth along her lower lip hesitantly before asking the question she'd been wanting to ask for a while, "Did you know my father and mother?"
Wyatt glanced down at Hope with a small shrug, eyeing Hope closely.
"I might do," he said vaguely, licking his lips, a small frown denting his brow. "But you haven't told me their names, so I've no idea," he told her, shaking his head somewhat as if to indicate the impossibility of knowing such things when he'd received no information from her. He neglected to mention that her being a tribrid meant that she was likely to be Klaus' daughter, since he didn't want to throw out accusations. Hope gave a despairing sigh, nodding in sober agreement,
"That's true, and I would, but I don't know their names myself." She admitted, accompanying her words with gestures, and miniature expression changes. Wyatt's eyes skimmed over her expression, before he nodded slowly and turned away to look ahead once more. He took a deep breath, letting it out in a slow exhale.
"It's alright," he said. "If you want, I can always just work it out of Rebekkah," he told her, shrugging casually.
Hope laughed freely, gave him an appreciative smile but a firm shake of the head,
"She'd just kill you, once she's made sure you're not Stefan. I'll find out when I'm supposed to." She countered, the shaking of her head become slow and sad, before the motion vanished and all that was left about her that communicated the emotion was the sad little smile on her lips. Wyatt smirked faintly, shaking his head with a small chuckle.
"I'm surprisingly fast," he grinned, "and I'm armed with more weapons than perhaps people would expect. But of course, I shall refrain if you see it fit of me to do so."
Hope snorted loudly, throwing a disbelieving look in his general direction,
"You're stereotyping yourself, Wyatt." She teased, trailing off as she pondered over whether that was the first time she'd spoken his name out loud. Wyatt arched an eyebrow and glanced at Hope with a small chuckle, tilting his head in amusement.
"Oh?" He questioned, "How so?"
Hope arched an eyebrow, evaluating the question,
"The formality, the rare steak," She grinned accusingly up at him, "The vocabulary and the impeccable manners, the typical vampiric belief of invincibility... Etcetera." She shrugged nonchalantly, tipping her face up to gauge his reaction. Wyatt rolled his eyes a little, smirking, before a somewhat dark expression shuttered over his face as he looked off into the open space.
"Oh trust me," he said lowly, "I believe in no-such thing as invincibility. I've seen men die, supernatural or not, thousands of times. Perhaps millions. On the battle field, in daily life, some at my own hand. I've come close to death a hundred times, but I escape. That's what I am, Hope. A survivor. Nothing more, nothing less."
Hope simply watched him, tilting her head in admiration,
"You're a survivor, you're a warrior, and you're a fighter. Your life has been filled with terror, and it's all you may have known, and yet here you are: unbroken. That's pretty admirable, if you ask me." She tipped her head towards him in dedication and respect. Wyatt glanced down at Hope and studied her features for a moment, before letting out a soft sigh and shaking his head minutely as he turned to look in another direction, nose wrinkling slightly as he sniffed, clicking his tongue a little inside of his mouth.
"Nah," he tutted, shaking his head. "I'm unhinged," he told her. "I know what people think of me, and I don't care."
Hope scoffed,
"If you say so, you big softie." She teased, poking his side. Wyatt flinched a little at the pet name, eyeing Hope with distaste.
"Please no," he drawled, facial features scrunched up. Hope tipped her head back and laughed, it was a real and genuine laugh, and Hope was one of those people who did things like laugh and smile with more than her mouth, her eyes lighting up,
"Alright, alright. The teasing only goes so far. I get it." She held her hands defensively. Wyatt let out a barely-there chuckle, shaking his head with a small sigh.
"Yes, that would be me," he agreed, a little exasperated smirk on his face that was accompanied with an eye roll. Hope simply ducked her head in agreement, a smile lingering on her face. Wyatt glanced at Hope with something that was almost fondness in his expression, before looking around at the surrounding area and taking it all in.
"Where are we going?" He asked.
Hope cocked a singular eyebrow at him,
"My house, remember? What a memory you have." She chuckled. Wyatt sighed heavily and shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Your sass is all the syrup I need."
He glanced at her and gave her a look that conveyed a lot of attitude, rolling his eyes, eyebrows arched.
"I meant, what area? I know we're going to your house. I'm just unfamiliar with these parts," he said, gesturing around them. Hope gestured vaguely in way of the general direction they were already headed,
"It's a secret. You're lucky I haven't blindfolded you, this is the VIP treatment, right here." She raised her eyebrows in an entirely serious manner. Wyatt cocked his head a little, a small smirk on his face.
"Oh really?" He challenged jokingly, before sobering up a little. "Well then, glad to be so privileged."
Hope smirked, winking at him sidelong and carrying on, they were almost there. She started rummaging through her bag for the keys. Wyatt stepped aside, removing his arm from her shoulders so that she could search easier, glancing up at the house they stood before. Oddly enough, this place did strike a familiarity within him. He rolled his eyes a little at the way his head began to hurt when he tried to place the building at a specific point in time in which he might've come across it, and sighed heavily. Of course. All current feelings suggested he'd been compelled to forget this place. Damn originals. Hope cheered in a happy exclamation upon finding the elusive keys, she swileved to present the keys to Wyatt triumphantly, and then skipping up to the door and swiftly unlocking it. She stepped back, gesturing for Wyatt to venture inside ahead of her,
"Voila."
Wyatt glanced at her before slowly stepping towards the door with a sigh.
"If I have to be invited in, I swear-" he muttered, but his lamentations had no need, for his foot swiftly overstepped the threshold, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Well, I've definitely been here before then," he mumbled, shaking his head as he moved the rest of the way into the house.
Hope watched on, extremely amused and then appropriately curious, tilting her head and stepping inside after him,
"You think so? Reckon you were compelled?" She asked casually, shrugging off her jacket and hanging it up, dropping her bag off by the door. Wyatt glanced over his shoulder at Hope with a small nod, a faint smirk on his face.
"When it comes to the Mikaelson's? Yes, I'm always betting on compulsion," he chuckled, eyebrows quirking up in a sarcastic sort of amusement. He glanced around the place, fingers flexing at his side, before he turned on his heel to face her. "Any preferences? Shoes off, etcetera?"
Hope waved him off, shaking her head vehemently,
"Wooden floors, brown carpet. No need to take off shoes or anything, but you're welcome to if you want to." Hope rolled up her sleeves and went to grab a hairband from her bag, tying her hair up in a loose ponytail. Wyatt glanced down at the flooring then at his own shoes, before nodding to himself and looking up at her once more.
"No, I think I'm good," he told her, tucking his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He stood and rocked on his heels a little, licking his lips and tugging at the bottom one with his teeth, a habit of his, as he awaited further instruction. Hope blinked at him, smiling a little nervously, she linked her hands infront of her, down by her navel. She glanced around her, trying to think, and then she perked up,
"You want a drink? We've got Scotch." She offered bravely. Wyatt's gaze moved to her and he nodded once, shrugging mildly.
"Sounds good to me," he conceded, gesturing down the corridor for her to lead the way, since any memories he'd had of this place had been compelled away from him. He'd have to figure out some way of getting those back, and if he found out it was Klaus that had compelled him? Well, let's just say that white oak stake would be coming into play far sooner than Wyatt had imagined. Hope grinned, ducking her head in the direction of the kitchen and heading off towards it, tucking her hands into her jean pockets, a slight skip in her step,
"So, you know my family?"
Wyatt nodded his head a little and followed her down the corridor into the kitchen, tucking his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.
"Yep," he said vaguely by way of confirmation. "Every single last one of them."
Hope whipped her head round to stare excitedly at Wyatt, eyes wide, ponytail swinging about,
"Could you tell me about them?" She tried not to beg, but the eagerness and desperation to learn was painfully obvious.
Wyatt shrugged faintly as he took up a space next to the counter, resting his arm on top of it and leaning.
"Depends on what you want to know," he said evasively. Hope squinted at him, the excitement draining away a little, she blinked at him and then sighed, tugging a hand through her wavy hair, at the end of her ponytail,
"Just... anything, really. Their names, even?" She began to worry her bottom lip between her teeth and grabbed a stool, pulling it over to the counter, hopping up on it in order to reach the liquor cabinet, sliding the key out from on top of it, swiftly unlocking it and yanking the door open. Wyatt slowly pulled a stool out for himself and sat down, making himself comfortable while still maintaining his straight posture. He watched her for a moment, eyes traveling over the length of her body as she stretched up towards the liquor cabinet, before he glanced down at the counter top.
"Rebekkah, as you know. Then there's Klaus, Elijah, Kol, Finn, Esther and Michael."
Hope paused mid way through grabbing the scotch, she kind of just stood there on the stool for a few seconds, hands on the bottle in the cabinet. She knew her heartbeat had audibly accelerated and was beating with a new ferocity, but she trusted that Wyatt would be polite enough to not mention it. She cleared her throat and blurred down from the stool, suddenly beside him, offering the bottle to him for him to inspect,
"If it's not too much trouble... What are they like?"
Wyatt blinked a little before glancing from Hope to the bottle, then back again; he took it from her hands and turned it in his grasp, eyeing the label and the date on it before nodding and setting it down on the side.
"They're a bunch of nutters, to be completely honest," he told her with a small shrug, sighing mildly. "But they can be alright."
Hope let a laugh escape her lips, she leaned over him slightly to take the bottle, a long strand from her hair coming loose from the ponytail and falling between them, providing a visual demonstration of how close they were to each other. She grabbed the bottle, flashed Wyatt a smile and jogged over to get some glasses,
"Sounds like a family I would be related to." She joked. Wyatt inhaled a little sharply at her close proximity, and the rush of air as she turned suddenly and practically skipped away was like a small slap in the face. He huffed and shook his head, leaning more heavily against the counter and watching her as she busied herself with fetching and filling glasses.
"Well, I wouldn't know how true that statement may be yet," he smirked.
"Yet?" She asked, making her voise rise as if she were offended by the statement, and yet made sure he saw she was smiling, as a clear indication she wasn't being serious. She poured just the right amount of Scotch in each glass and was suddenly by Wyatt's stool, once again, leaning over him to grab a drinks coaster, mumbling an awkward sorry, and setting his drink down. She placed a coaster at her intended place and then disappeared, reappearing in her seat with her drink not even a second later.
Wyatt rubbed his eyes a little at the fast flurry of motion, a small chuckle escaping his lips within a breathy sigh. He wrapped his long fingers around the glass and lifted it in a toast towards Hope, before sipping some of the liquor back and closing his eyes, enjoying the pleasant burn of it slipping down his throat. Setting the glass down once more, he licked his lips and glanced over at Hope, tilting his head to the side slightly.
"You could tell me some more about you, and then I'd know," he said slyly. Hope joined him in his toast, taking a decent gulp of the scotch, and it did not disappoint. She gritted her teeth a little at the slight burn, looking over at Wyatt as his eyes were finding her, she licked her lips and set her drink down, crossing her arms on the table and mock glaring at him,
"I'm honestly nowhere near as interesting as you seem to think I am. Maybe if you prompted me, I could answer, but I can't come up with any more on the spot."
Wyatt's eyes sparkled faintly with amusement, and he threw his hands up into the air a little in a half-arsed mockery of a surrendering gesture before setting them in his lap and grinning at her lightly.
"Alright then," he drawled, humming slightly. "What was your favourite thing to do as a kid?"
Hope made a small appreciative humming noise upon hearing the question, taking a sip from her drink as she thought. She had a very expressive face,
"When I was younger... My favourite thing to do was tree jumping." She spoke slowly, seemingly deciding as she spoke, and then nodding after answering, pleased with her answer, her eyes sparkling a little. Wyatt smiled a little and nodded, head tipping to the side slightly as he glanced Hope up and down. He let out a mirthful snicker, shaking his head with a fake-exasperated sigh.
"I can definitely see that," he nodded, biting his bottom lip to conceal a laugh. Hope raised her eyebrows, assessing his reaction, smirking and tipping her face up a little, her posture straightening out so that she almost looked elegant or regal,
"Next question?" She inquired. Wyatt eyed her for a short moment, before picking up his glass and taking the bottle into his hand, standing up.
"Let's relocate to somewhere more comfortable?" He suggested, inclining his head towards the general vicinity of the living room.
Hope decided that actions spoke louder than words, and so following those wise words, she jumped up, grabbing her drink and slipping past him and into the living room. She glanced around quickly and blurred about, managing to tidy up before he actually strolled into the room. By the time he stepped over the line that qualified as the separation between rooms, she was lounging casually on the sofa, gaze directed towards him expectantly, glass resting on the coffee table. Wyatt smirked and casually passed it off, pretending he hadn't at all noticed her little whiz-about clean up. He moved over to the sofa and placed the bottle on the coffee table, taking a seat next to her and relaxing back into the sofa cushions with a small sigh. Glass settled on the top of his thigh within the loose grip of his right hand, he turned his body slightly towards her and looked at her with a small huff.
"So... favourite genres of music?" He questioned. Hope tipped her head up to the ceiling, an open mouthed grin on her face in reaction to the question,
"I have a really odd taste in music. It ranges from rock to pop and then there's a little bit of indie, and r&b in there. It's unpredictable." She let her head loll onto the sofa head, turning to look at him, an unashamed smile on her face. Wyatt let his eyes travel over her features before he tipped his head back against the sofa and let it rest there, mimicking her position, a slow and easy smile creeping onto his face against his will. The alcohol had loosened him up somewhat, especially since he'd mixed substances, and Hope was pleasant company to keep.
"That's similar to the way mine varies," he told her, making eye contact. "Rock, indie, some screamo, grunge, alternative, post-punk revival, a couple of chart hits, and then some smooth jazz, Motown, Ska and even a few country songs. I guess you grow to like a lot of different types when you've been around for nearly two centuries."
Hope nodded slowly, as best as she could considering the position she was in, matching his eye contact, and maintaining it. She licked her lips and her eyes flitted down to the drink in his hands before they returned promptly to his face,
"I suppose you would. Impressive. I like it." She raised her hands up high enough so they were withing their field of vision, considering they were both sitting in the exact same position, and clapped lightly.
Wyatt eyed her hands with an arched eyebrow, gaze flitting between her eyes and her hands, an expression on his face that translated to, "Really?", though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips and had them curving ever-so-slightly upwards. She amused him a lot, it seemed. She was surprisingly good at that, for some reason. There was just something about her. Hope shrugged lazily, dropping her hands and bringing her feet up so that she could sit in a fetal position, her head remaining where it was on the sofa, eyes remaining on Wyatt,
"Any more questions? We're on a roll, here." She enthused. Wyatt crossed his right leg over the other and turned so that he was situated more on his side, propping an elbow up on top of the back of the sofa and resting his head against his hand, curling his fingers into a fist. He once again unashamedly studied Hope's facial features, not at all abashed by his obviousness, before looking back up at her eyes.
"Where do you see yourself in twenty years time?" He asked her. Hope considered that for a bit, allowing her tongue to slide over her teeth as she pondered,
"In twenty years?" She echoed, tapping her fingers aimlessly on the bit of sofa between them, eyebrows brought forward slightly and eyes focused on her hand, "I see myself finally settled down somewhere, with friends, a life, a good job with a decent salary, and a complete lack of fear. I see no fear in my life whatsoever. I have to break this cycle that Aunt Rebekah has created, Wyatt. I can't run from the unknown anymore." She confessed, her answer being a little more heartfelt and serious than she had intended it to be. Wyatt nodded slowly as he absorbed the information, taking it all in with a fond sort of expression that showed he appreciated the sincerity, eyes scanning her features and taking in details, like the way her lips twitched slightly when she became a little nervous about how much she'd revealed of herself, and the way her eyes seemed to pool when she spoke from the heart.
"Idealistic," he conceded, pursing his lips and bobbing his head a little in consideration, before lifting his glass to his lips and taking a sip; he licked them afterwards and lowered the glass to his leg once more. "Idealistic, but certainly nice."
Hope slumped further into the sofa, a distant expression lingering on her face, she felt her lips twitch of their own accord, wanting to smile, but not really getting there due to the warring emotions she was experiencing internally. Hope began to trace random shapes and patterns on the sofa instead, bringing her head up and off of where she had laid it, breaking eye contact with Wyatt and giving her attention instead to the fireplace across from them,
"How about you?" She half whispered. Wyatt licked his lips a little and shrugged his shoulders, lips twisted a little as he thought. He couldn't really come up with much. Immortality presented certain difficulties with the whole "settling down" side of things, and certainly it also meant that there were no real plans for him. He enjoyed traveling, and really, when you'd lived for as long as he had, what more was there to do?
"I just think I'll continue to travel," he told her honestly, shrugging. "The world has plenty to offer, despite the fact that I've been to the majority of its countries already. Revisits are always a pleasure, and I suppose I could visit the ones I haven't." He shrugged again and sighed. "Maybe I'll climb Everest, who knows. Either way, immortality means you've a lot of spare time on your hands. The world isn't that big, but I guess, then again, new technology and movements and advances within society will prove to offer me brand new experiences, so... guess it's not all tedious."
Hope nodded along amicably as he spoke, occasionally lifting her head to watch him as he spoke, eyes repeatedly making the complete assessment of his face, seemingly unable to prevent herself from doing so. When he had finished she took a sip from her drink and licked her lips,
"I want to travel, eventually. Of my own accord, you know? When I have a permanent home to go back to." She stumbled across the realisation that this was the first heart to heart, or whatever this was, she'd had with another person in the longest time. Hope was mainly used to things being concealed and forbidden areas in conversations. This level of honesty and personal information was new and rare for her all at once.
Wyatt made an acknowledging hum and sipped his Scotch, eyes drifting over to the other side of the room and briefly taking in the furniture and ornaments lain out in there. The house itself was definitely striking a chord within him; but every time he tried to push his memory to give him something more, his head began to ache and burn in steadily-increasing waves of excruciating pain. He sighed heavily and set his glass on the coffee table before settling back against the sofa again and looking at Hope. Hope frowned at the sounds he was making and shuffled about until she was facing him, close enough that she could reach out and place her hands on either side of his temple, biting her lip in concentration,
"Will you let me help you?" She asked softly, taking away the effect of the compulsion without consent was just as bad as the compulsion itself. It was vital that this was Wyatt's decision, otherwise she was just another Mikaelson messing with his mind. Wyatt swallowed roughly, eyeing Hope with distrust as he felt her fingers press against his temples. He licked his lips, a deep-set frown furrowing his brow heavily as his eyes scanned over her features, and he couldn't help himself but sort through her thoughts once again to figure out her intentions. Upon seeing that they were pure, he relaxed a little and slowly nodded, eyes meeting hers.
"If you would," he said quietly. "Please."
Hope gave a half nod in response, already too concentrated to give a verbal response, she exhaled slowly, taking her time to close her eyes and identify herself with her own magic. She tentatively probed her way through his mind, ignoring everything that wasn't obviously suppressed, she wanted Wyatt's memories and thoughts to remain his own. Hope frowned a little as it began to wear on her, she stiffended almost innoticeably, hoping he wouldn't notice and stop her, she was so close. It took her a good eight or nine minutes to sort through and identify the exact memory he had been compelled to forget, the image of her home stood out amongst the others, just as she felt a small trickle of blood start to trail down her upper lip, from her nose, she swiftly broke the compulsion that shrowded the memory. Allowing Wyatt access to it once more. Wyatt blinked his eyes open a little as memories started to flash behind his eyes, a surprisingly sharp feeling that had him squeezing his eyes shut and tensing his muscles. He'd been here numerous times in the past, it seemed. Parties and social events and even just quiet drinks with Klaus while the rest of the family had either been elsewhere or dagger'd. Wyatt's brow drew down into a heavy frown as he saw the exact moment that Klaus had compelled him. It was the exact night that Klaus had disappeared and left Wyatt confused about his whereabouts, and suddenly it made sense why he'd felt no urge to try and find the man until now - because he'd been told to leave him be for a very long time. Wyatt sighed aggressively and shook his head, opening his eyes once more.
Hope sat back, a tentative look on her face, watching Wyatt closely. She hadn't taken a look at the memories she had set free, herself, she felt it would be too intrusive for her to do so. She scooted back a little bit to allow him space on the sofa,
"Is that better? Can you remember it now?" She inquired softly, putting a hand to her hair to tuck the loose strand back behind her ear, and then deciding to just let her hair free from the ponytail instead, tugging the band onto her wrist. Wyatt glanced at her and nodded his head, offering her a small smile.
"Thank you," he said quietly, leaning forward and lifting his hand to her face. "Did that hurt?" He asked, "You've got a little..." He gently swiped his thumb under her nose and over her top lip, wiping away the blood, a frown on his face as he did so, rubbing it away over his skin, before glancing up at her eyes. Hope stared back at him evenly, nodding keenly with a smile to match his own. She wriggled her nose and sniffed a little,
"It just tires me out. I'm fine." She assured him, putting a hand to her upper lip to make sure all the blood had been wiped off, checking her fingers and once satisfied there was no trace of blood left, she brought her legs up to cross, setting her hands on her ankles. Wyatt nodded, satisfied, and sat back again, leaning over to pick his drink up off the table; he took the bottle and topped up his glass, before glancing at Hope and gesturing with the bottle in offering.
"You good or you want a refill?" He asked her, glancing down at her almost-empty glass with slightly raised eyebrow.
Hope followed his gaze to her glass and blinked at it, still a little disorientated, and then scooped it up, making a quick decision,
"I'd love a refill, thank you." She smirked a little playfully at him, handing her glass and leaning back a little on the sofa, placing her arms behind her to rest on them, turning her gaze to the ceiling, studying the mini chandelier, something Rebekah had insisted on installing. She shook her head a little, sardonically. Wyatt took her glass with a small smirk, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he turned around and filled her glass again. Placing the bottle down, he picked up his own glass and sat back, handing Hope's drink to her and taking a sip from his own. He let out a small sigh and leaned back, head dropping onto the top of the sofa cushion freely, and joined the tribrid in looking up at the ceiling, tapping his fingertips lightly on the rim of his glass in an absentminded fidget. Hope scowled at the chandelier, it suddenly had become a visual representation of Rebekah's controlling nature,
"You got any questions for me?" She asked abruptly, glancing down at him momentarily before looking back up to the chandelier, and sighing lightly. Wyatt looked over at Hope with a faint note of surprise, having forgotten what they were previously doing. He shook his head lightly, offering her a faint smirk.
"I think I'll save some for future dates," he told her with a sly grin, lifting his glass to his lips and swiftly sipping a large mouthful.
Hope snorted, and then surprised herself with a very uncharacteristic giggle. She abruptly shut her mouth, eyes widening, brows furrowing at her own behaviour. He'd caught her off guard, sure Hope laughed, and she laughed a lot, she could find enjoyment in anything, but she never giggled. On more than one occasion she'd felt an urge to punch Elena in the face for that high pitched giggle she liked to let loose around Stefan and Damon. Hope narrowed her eyes and cursed at herself internally, and then, upon remembering she had company, got over it, and looked up to meet Wyatt's gaze with a polite smile,
"You asshole. You made me giggle." She accused, putting a despairing hand to her cheek and leaning her head on it, her elbow propped up on her thigh. Wyatt looked down at her and leaned forward, leveling their eyes as he smirked broadly and unashamedly.
"What a crime," he drawled sarcastically, eyes glinting with mirth. Wyatt arched an eyebrow at her, leaning casually as he looked over her features, smirk slowly slipping into a grin as he awaited something more from her, curious about her. Hope gave him a hard, yet reluctantly playful glare, a small smile creeping up on her as she imitated him, leaning further forward and closing the distance between them further. She refused to blink, placing her hands lightly on the sofa beneath her to keep herself steady,
"You want future dates?" She questioned, her eyes shifting between his, finding it hard not to get pulled in and consumed by them. Wyatt glanced at her eyes, down to her lips, then back again, very much aware of their close proximity. He nodded slowly, shifting a little in his place, refusing to back down.
"Yes," he said determinedly. "I want future dates."
Hope snickered to herself quietly, giving him a half roll of her eyes, she'd practically been able to predict that reaction from him, she deliberately bit down on her lip, her brows furrowing slightly, she ducked her head a tiny bit,
"Do you have any plans for these future dates you desire?" She questioned, keeping her tone nonchalant, trying to appear uninterested.
Wyatt scowled faintly, though couldn't keep the smirk off of his face. He tilted his head a little, eyes darting up and down a little, taking in her mannerisms and facial expressions before he looked into her eyes once more.
"Perhaps," he told her evasively, biting down on his lip to prevent a grin appearing. Hope growled almost unnoticeably and gritted her teeth in annoyance, she glared more forcefully at him and narrowed her eyes further, she leaned even closer, looking directly into his eyes,
"And what's your aim, here? You want me to agree to a second date?" She murmured, an intensity in her eyes. Wyatt let his gaze drop down to her lips pointedly, before he looked back up at her, an intensity in his own eyes that matched hers, blood spiking with the adrenaline that came with the feeling of being challenged.
"Something like that," he drawled. Hope grinned a little darkly, cocking her head at him and raising her eyebrows infinitesimally. She returned the favour and allowed herself to turn her attention to his lips, making her gaze linger before returning nonchalantly back to his eyes,
"Well, I'll have to think about it..." She teased, her stare unforgiving.
Wyatt clenched his jaw momentarily, eyes narrowed, before he slowly relaxed his muscles and cocked his head to the side a little, gaze challenging as he eyed Hope.
"Perhaps I can persuade you," he said quietly, before bringing a hand up to cup her jaw, thumb sweeping delicately over her cheekbone as he leaned forward and brushed their lips, a silent request for permission. Hope's breath caught in her throat as he leaned towards her, and allowed her eyes to flutter shut of their own accord, a crease appearing in her brow as their lips made initial contact. She replied simply by bringing her arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, giving him explicit permission. Wyatt smiled a little against her lips before applying more pressure and kissing her softly, his other hand coming to rest at her hip. He traced the curve of her jawline with his thumb, taking her bottom lip between his. Hope brought her fingers up to tangle them gently in his short hair on the back of his neck, tilting her head for better access. She knew that her heart was probably going a mile a minute, but was way too distracted to try and even it out. Hope vaguely realised that this would be the third kiss she had received in her lifetime, something she blamed entirely on Rebekah, and her passion for chasing away her possible suitors. She decided she was going to push those thoughts out of her mind, and enjoy the moment while she was living in it. Wyatt shifted a little in his place, lifting Hope onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her waist loosely, fingertips playing with the hem of her t-shirt idly as he tilted his head up into the kiss, accommodating to the new angle. He shivered lightly at the trace of her fingertips over the hair at his nape, lightly nipping her bottom lip in a playful gesture, smoothing a palm up along her back in a slow caress. Hope resisted the urge to moan, or sigh, whenever she was allowed a breath. She quickly adjusted to the new position, imitating him and smiling into the kiss, she attempted a little nip on his lower lip but due to her inexperience in the whole kissing department, she failed miserably and abruptly broke the kiss, breaking into a fit of laughter. She shook her head sadly,
"I am so sorry." She gasped out, clutching onto his shoulders to keep herself on his lap.
Wyatt let out a small laugh, tucking his face into her neck, shaking his head a little, grinning.
"I'm not sure what happened, but apology accepted?" He chuckled, tone questioning. He hadn't been aware of anything going wrong, but even so. He trailed his fingers along the bumps and curves of her spine lightly as she laughed against him, a smile on his face. Hope shuddered lightly at his touch, as it synchronised with his breath fanning over the heat of her neck, she squirmed a little and craned her neck awkwardly to press a brief kiss to his forehead,
"I'm not very experienced with the whole kissing thing, and you're just..." She sighed with an shy smile on her face, a light blush appearing on her cheeks, "Amazing." She confessed, refusing to look at him, a little breathless, the volume of her voice dropping. Wyatt glanced up at her, eyebrows raising, a small smirk on his face as he listened to her.
"Oh?" He questioned, tone slightly teasing. "Well thank you," he grinned, nodding once with pursed lips. "I'm sure, if you'll allow me, you'll have plenty of experience soon," he commented, an almost unnoticeable, silent laugh that shook his shoulders breaking out behind the small smile on his face as he ducked his head in amusement, an affectionate note to his expression. Hope chuckled, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner, smirking knowingly. She patted his shoulder and deliberately avoided his gaze, knewing the intensity would melt her, and cause her to completely lose her cool,
"What if I don't allow you?" She asked teasingly, a threat of no kisses heavily implied. Hope smiled casually, innocently making brief eye contact with him as she spoke, and then turned her attention swiftly away, just as quickly.
Wyatt let his gaze roam over her, teeth coming down to bite at his bottom lip, habits making themselves known again; he shook his head a little, a husky chuckle escaping his throat as he rolled his eyes. Expression sobering, he placed the tips of his fingers at her chin and tilted her head so she'd be looking at him, letting his gaze meets her, an intensity in his eyes as he spoke, head tilted.
"That would be an awful shame," he told her sincerely, voice low. Hope huffed awkwardly, scowling at him for trumping her immediately, she crossed her arms and sighed again, louder,
"Damn it, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep that up. You're just too good." She grumbled, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at him, she hated to be so weak to the powers of men, and she never usually was, but this one was different. He brought out a confidence and independence in her that she hadn't seen in her character for the longest time. She didn't want him to know how much he affected her already, so she threw her hands up in an exasperated gesture, trying to maintain her irritated facade. Wyatt found himself laughing, and hid his face in her shoulder in an attempt to stifle and end the sound. He hadn't laughed so many times in one night since he was twenty-one - back when he actually was twenty-one. He wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with someone being able to do that to him, to bring to light the less psychotic parts of him, the softer parts that'd somehow preserved themselves from his youth that were so deeply repressed they felt like they were separate from him. He licked his lips, brow furrowed, but decided he'd allow himself tonight. It was the alcohol, that was all. Sniffing, he pulled back a little and glanced up at her, smirk back on his face.
"I enjoy the advantage," he hummed.
Hope groaned, rolling her eyes, unfolding her arms and placing a hand on either side of his face, cupping his cheeks and moving his face so that she could scowl directly into his eyes,
"You're so smug. So very smug." She scolded him, and then fidgeted about, trying to unentangle herself from him, rolling off of his lap and standing up, taking a casual stance,
"You want dessert? We skipped it at the restaurant." She asked, abruptly changing the current topic, sticking a hand in her pocket as she did so. Wyatt let out a small laugh and watched her as she manouvered herself, shaking his head a little with amusement. He stood up also, picking up his glass from the table and promptly taking a sip of his drink, shrugging mildly as she asked her question.
"Sure, I guess," he smiled at her, placing his drink down once more and tucking his hands into his back pockets. Hope hesitated, it was something she had asked when put on the spot, it had just been something to say to fill the silence. She quickly thought through the inventory of the fridge and remembered, much to her relief, the tiramisu she had bought, and offered Wyatt a small, grabbing his hand gently and leading him with her through to the kitchen. Hope made sure to keep her grip loose, so that he had the option to let go, if he was uncomfortable. Wyatt glanced down at their hands, looking at them before lightly tangling their fingers together. He smiled faintly and easily followed behind her, feeling fairly relaxed in her company right now. He eyed the dessert in her hand with vague amusement, noting how her heartbeat had picked up slightly with nerves when he'd agreed to dessert. However, he made no comment.
Hope took his reaction to the dessert as approval, and she let go of his hand to go and fetch the bowls, and a couple of spoons. She set them down on the side along with a serving spoon, moving over to the table to set two placemats and then blurring out of the room, grabbing a candle and a lighter from upstairs, appearing once again by the table, she took a moment to wink at Wyatt before lighting the candle, setting it in the centre of the table. She scooped up the bowls and spoons, placing them in their respective places, and taking a seat. Wyatt took a seat at the table as Hope arranged and gathered everything, unable to help the exasperated laugh that escaped him as he shook his head and sighed, closing his eyes and resting an elbow on the table, propping it up and letting his head fall into his hand, amused and disbelieving as she winked at him, lighting the candle.
"Oh, wow," he mumbled under his breath, a small chuckle shaking his shoulders. With a huff, he lifted his head again and arched an eyebrow at her, tilting his head with a smirk, giving her a pointed look. Hope smiled back at him, a little smugly. She shrugged disinterestedly to communicate that the presence of the candle didn't have to be a bad thing,
"Mood lighting, my friend. It's like we never left the restaurant." She chuckled and grabbed the serving spoon, holding a hand out towards him for his bowl, she made grabby hands once or twice as she waited. Wyatt shook his head with a little laugh and took the spoon, giving her a chirpy, "Thank youuu," before pushing it into his dessert with a small huff. He glanced up at her, a smile still on his face. He was almost - almost - annoyed at how he couldn't seem to wipe the grin off of his features. Okay, no, he was annoyed; but it didn't manage to spoil his mood or even matter that much to him in that moment. Hope raised an eyebrow at him, and then dug into her own portion, avoiding the urge to watch him as he ate, and focused on the painting that hung parallel to her on the wall. It was very Rebekah, and although Hope had at first been adamant that she hated it, she had come to tolerate it over time.
Wyatt spooned a mouthful of the dessert into his mouth and chewed slowly, glancing up at Hope as he did so. He found himself following her gaze and coming to turn and look at a painting that was hung up on the wall, of which he squinted at with a certain degree of scrutiny. That wasn't very Klaus... in fact, he was surprised he hadn't seen one of Klaus' own works up there. No, it was likely to be the decorative additions of Rebekkah. Hope licked her lips and swallowed, clearing her throat before speaking,
"How well do you know my aunt Rebekah?" She inquired, the thought suddenly coming to her. It was one of the few people they had in common, and something told her that she was the only Mikaelson that Wyatt wouldn't be evasive about when discussing. She watched him and scooped up another spoonful, collecting it delicately off the spoon. Wyatt glanced over at Hope with a small hum, tilting his head for a moment as he looked off to the space beside her in thought before returning his gaze to her once more.
"I know her... better than I know Finn and Kol, not as well as I know Klaus and Elijah. She can be a real bitch, as I'm sure you know, but she's got a good heart underneath it all. She's lovely if you have her trust and don't betray it," Wyatt shrugged, nodding to himself. "I've never betrayed her. Or anyone, actually. I never make promises I can't keep."
Hope nodded in firm agreement, grinning at the perfect depiction of her aunt. She brought her hands up to clap,
"Couldn't have said it better myself." She laughed, and ate the excess tiramisu off her spoon before continuing, "I kind of already knew you were like that, to be honest, and I didn't get that from being inside your head. I didn't need that to know this particular quality you have." She smiled indulgently over to him before switched her stare to the vase of flowers to her right. She frowned at the fact that they were clearly dead, she shook her head disapprovingly and slid her chair out, letting her spoon fall, as she went to pick the vase up instead, gliding swiftly over to the counter to fix the problem. Wyatt glanced at Hope, looking her in the eyes as she spoke, a sincerity to his expression that almost made it look open - but only almost. He nodded slightly as she gave her agreement, faintly awed by her perception and the fact that she actually trusted his testament straight off the bat rather than questioning him and insisting proof. He was caught off guard by her sudden movement towards the vase on the counter, and couldn't help but chuckle under his breath as he saw her beginning to fix whatever she thought was wrong. Of course she was that kind of woman. Hope looked over at him sharply when he chuckled, narrowing her eyes challengingly. She immediately went back to trying to pick out the dead flowers among the bunch, she shook her head sadly,
"You are all weak, your bloodline is weak and shall not survive the winter." She informed the growing collection of dead flowers laid out next to the vase. She finished up and brought the vase with her back to her seat, placing it down at the same time as she sat,
"Sorry about that." She addressed Wyatt, picking up her spoon, "It needed to be done."
Wyatt snorted at Hope - quite loudly, actually - and shook his head, beginning to laugh uncontrollably, burying his face into his hands and shaking his head vehemently.
"What in God's name?" He questioned her, barely getting the words out in a coherent manner due to the snorts and borderline cackles escaping his mouth in volleys. He sighed heavily, taking a breath and trying to collect himself. "I cannot believe you just said that," he huffed, eyeing her with slightly wet eyes. Hope blinked at him, the spoon halfway to her mouth, she raised her eyebrows in surprise, an infectious and ridiculously wide smile forming immediately on her face,
"I kid you not, Rebekah said that once to a boy who was trying to get her permission to date me. He had messed up pretty badly and she just sat there, dead serious, and said that to him. I had to leave to go and laugh in the kitchen." She laughed fondly at the memory.
Wyatt shook his head with a small sigh, looking at Hope with a fond sort of amusement. He nodded a little, licking his lips.
"Mm," he said, "yeah, I can see that. Sounds exactly like something she'd say, to be honest." He bit his lip as he glanced off to the side, pondering on the image. Of all the years he'd known Rebekkah, Wyatt could most definitely imagine her saying such a thing. Gosh, how long had it been since he'd met her now? Almost definitely over a century. Actually, yes. Definitely. He'd first encountered her sometime in 1912, he thought. Time sure did feel timeless when you literally had all the time in the world. What a blessed curse. Hope watched him curiously, Wyatt's face could be exceedingly expressive when he didn't keep it in check. She smiled faintly as she watched him, a smile that faded almost as quickly as it had come on as the next thought she had came to her,
"I probably won't see her for a while, if she goes. I'll be without her for the first time in twenty years... that's crazy." She frowned down at her tiramisu, pushing it around in the bowl with her spoon, before scooping up the last bit and eating it. Wyatt glanced up at Hope, pulled out of his thoughts, and he nodded slowly, watching her face and the emotions that played themselves upon her expression.
"You can be awfully expressive too," he informed her, having heard her thoughts unintentionally. He shifted a little on his seat and tilted his head to one side, moving on from that. "Sometimes freedom is worth the price of losing someone close to us," he told her surely. Hope glanced up from her now empty bowl with a confused frown on her face,
"Did I say that out loud?" She questioned, the pitch of her voice a little higher than usual. She screwed her mouth up and her confused frown deepened as she looked away from him to ponder over whether she had, replaying the conversation quickly in her head.
Wyatt realised his mistake as she asked that question, and immediately nodded his head.
"Mumbled it," he told her, smiling easily. She didn't have to know that particular quality about him just yet, after all. He wasn't one to reveal all his cards in the first round, not by a long shot. He preferred the long game. Hope nodded slowly, unconvinced, but trusting his word on it anyway. She doubted he would do anything that wasn't in her best interest. She shrugged and decided he may be right, and that she had mumbled it,
"I probably do, that happens to me a lot. Oh well, what shall we do now?" She questioned casually, not realising the implied meaning in her words seconds later, even though she hadn't intended for them to be there, it was a bit late now,
"I mean, uh... Not.." She sighed, pressing a hand to her cheek in embarrassment. Wyatt arched his eyebrows, glancing at her with a vaguely confused expression. He hadn't picked up on anything beyond her question, and he tilted his head, brow furrowing as he squinted at her.
"What's up?" He asked slowly, suspicious of her all of a sudden. Hope shook her head eagerly, realising she had just done a complete Rebekah. Wyatt was a gentlemen, and obviously wouldn't have read between the lines,
"Nothing, my mistake." She grabbed her bowl and headed for the sink. Wyatt arched an eyebrow, giving her a dubious look, but simply shrugged it off and nodded a little.
"Alright then," he said, clearing his throat.
Hope coughed lightly, placing her bowl to the right of the sink, she would do the washing up later. She spun round to face Wyatt, tucking her hands neatly into the back pockets of her jeans,
"Have you had enough of my company for one night, or do you want to stay a bit longer?" She asked bravely, something she was getting a lot better at doing. Speaking her mind. Wyatt pushed his chair back and stood up, glancing at the clock on the wall, eyebrows lifting in surprise. He hadn't even noticed the hours slip by, but already it was half past one in the morning. With a contemplative hum, his eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at Hope, licking his lips. He nodded a little, arching a single eyebrow in question.
"I'm good with whatever you want," he told her. "This is, after all, your place of residence, and it's pretty late - so it's your choice."
Hope wriggled her nose a little as she thought, one of those mannerisms that were prominent, but were something she never noticed herself doing,
"I don't know. I mean, I do know that I want you to stay, but I don't know what we could do." She tapped her chin lightly with her index finger. Wyatt nodded his head a little, a small smirk creeping its way onto his face.
"I think I'll leave," he told her, not unkindly. "It's been a good night. I'm sure we'll do it again sometime," he said, eyebrows raising as he tilted his head a little to look at her, the smirk on his face more fond than anything as he clasped his wrist in his hand at his front. Hope smiled, nodding in agreement,
"I'll walk you to the door. I'll see you when I see you?" She offered, hugging her torso with her hands.
Wyatt nodded with a small smile, bowing a little as he did so, hands tucking behind his back, before he turned and headed towards the front door. He stopped at the threshold, waiting for her. Hope followed him, she swayed a little as she watched him, heart thumping a little erratically as she caught his gaze,
"Safe journey home." She teased, her voice a little quiet, her laugh a little nervous. Wyatt nodded and leaned down, pressing a light kiss to her lips.
"I'll see you," he said quietly as he straightened up again, flashing her another smile before he turned and left down the driveway. Hope sighed contentedly, leaving her eyes closed for a moment before opening them to watch him walk away, a little dreamily. She turned and closed the door softly behind her.
