white flag | hope mikaelson

chapter nineteen

(Death Keeps Knocking On My Door 1x07)

Lilah wakes up gasping for air, ironically enough. Hope had piled a few comforters on her last night because the blonde could not stop shivering but the sentiment seems to be in vain now. Lilah can't breathe, she can't think; the weight of the blankets make her panic. She doesn't realize that her chest is heaving up and down until cool hands are being pressed against her cheeks, her body accepting the gesture as if it was what it's been waiting for.

"Lilah," Hope soothes, stroking her thumbs against the apple of her cheeks. The Saltzman chokes on a sob, reaching up to wrap her hands around the Mikaelson's wrists. A lightbulb in the corner of the room shatters to pieces and Hope rushes to move, pressing herself closer to Lilah as if she's trying to ground the girl. "Lilah, look at me!"

The blonde shakes her head, closing her eyes tightly against the anxiety slithering down her spine. Her skin was burning, and her stomach was curling into a coil that grew tighter the longer they sat there. She couldn't speak, she couldn't even focus. What was Hope—?

Hope lurches forward and presses the girl down against the bed, straddling her trembling form. She moves one of her hands from Lilah's cheek and presses it against the girl's chest, resting it on top of the girl's pounding heart. "Lilah, listen," she breathes through a whisper.

The blonde looks at Hope through blurry vision, trying to make her eyes focus. The tears were spilling over now, staining her red cheeks and stopping at Hope's hand.

A sudden warmth washes over Lilah and she falls lax in Hope's grasp, inhaling a much needed breath. She blinks back her tears and meets Hope's eyes, her bottom lip wobbling. "What did you do?" She rasps, her voice cracking.

Hope radiates relief, smiling gently at the girl. She reaches up to brush back Lilah's hair, uncaring that's it's tangled and damp from the girl's panic attack. "I just..." she trails off, shaking her head. "I just used my magic to slow your heartbeat. That's all."

"Oh," Lilah breathes. She feels the flare up in her magic settle down, the thrumming in her veins coming to a soothing comfort instead. "Thank you."

"Mhm," Hope slips off of her to lie down next to her, not opposing when the blonde clings to her. The Mikaelson threads her fingers into Lilah's hair whenever she rests her head on the tribid's chest, her arm lying across Hope's midsection. "What happened, pest?"

"Couldn't breathe," the blonde says simply.

"You're still freaked out?"

Lilah lifts her head to look at Hope, an incredulous expression gracing her face. "I was buried alive. I'm not going to just get over it."

"I know, I know," Hope urges her to lie her head down again. "I was just asking."

Lilah suddenly becomes concious of Hope's touch on her in their newfound silence. The tribid's fingers wrapped around strands of her hair, her other hand drawing shapes against Lilah's skin; like she can't memorize it fast enough. The blonde rests beside Hope, shifting nervously as she begins to feel her pulse quicken. Hope moves from next to her to grab Lilah's thigh, pulling it over her hip so she could shift down to be closer to the Saltzman. Lilah bites the inside of her cheek when she comes face to face with the girl, her lips trembling in anticipation.

"Lilah," Hope murmurs. "Calm down."

"What?" Lilah croaks, "what do you mean?"

Hope grins before rolling over and grabbing a familiar item from she and Lilah's shared night table. She brings the sunflower; their sunflower— closer to Lilah before laughing loudly. "Look at the poor thing," Hope mourns, her tone playful.