I Hate the Way...

Part 39: "Five More Minutes"

Josie wakes the following morning, expecting to be alone, expecting Hope to be down at the beach already, in the ocean like she always does.

But with her eyes still closed, she registers a warm body pressed against her back side, a strong arm lazily thrown over her waist, a hand intertwined with her own. She feels light, steady breaths against the back of her neck.

And she just feels...Warm. Secure. Safe. Loved.

A soft smile reaches her lips at the realization that her wife stayed with her the entire night, and she opens her eyes just to be sure. She can hardly believe it, but she sees Hope's tattoos all up her arm, so that's her confirmation. The sun already shines through the curtains.

Did Hope sleep through the night?

That's never happened before. Hope usually either doesn't fall asleep at all or wakes up abruptly shortly after dozing off, which Josie assumes is from nightmares, though Hope doesn't disclose that with her.

The brunette carefully lifts Hope's arm, using their intertwined hands to barely move the Tribrid, as she turns around in her arms to face her. She supposes it's just out of curiosity.

She smiles as Hope only stirs for a second before relaxing again.

She looks so peaceful, more-so than Josie has ever seen her. Hope is always so tense and guarded, but right now, she sleeps soundly, features relaxed, and Josie's soft smile turns into a toothy grin as she feels Hope's arm around her tighten its hold, pulling the brunette just a little closer.

Josie can get a full, uninterrupted view of Hope's sleeves and chest piece.

The dragon, the dagger, what resembles a large oak tree, runes that spell out several different words, a snake that looks as if it's swallowing it's own tail, a butterfly with a broken wing, 'always and forever' across her clavicle—so many, all raveling up one arm, across her chest, and down the other, on her upper back, even a few on her rib cage, and it all comes to a stop on her opposite forearm, where there's a detailed wooden stake, embedded between various smaller depictions.

Josie thinks it's a story, from start to finish, but she's not sure how the story translates, or what each image is an imagery for.

And then there's the scars on her chest. The more Josie looks at it, the less it looks like a random scar. it almost looks like a brand.

She runs her fingertips softly up Hope's strong arm, her shoulder, then the palpable scar.

And she notices something she hadn't before. She senses it—the magic. Before, she only really considered that tingling feeling from dark magic to be more of Hope's Tribrid magic. But now, most likely due to her truly feeling Hope's magic after siphoning from her, she feels a clear distinction between Hope's magic and this.

This is much darker, and it feels...eerie. It feels toxic and unnerving. Much different from what Josie feels from Hope. Yes, Hope's magic feels intoxicating, but Josie feels a warmth from Hope's power, a lightness and a thrill. All she feels hiding beneath this scar is darkness and heft and chill.

Is this a hex?

Why else would it have magic?

Josie glances back up toward her wife's features, furrowing her eyebrows as she contemplates the possibility.

Is this hurting Hope?

She feels Hope stir again, but she was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't truly register the movement, until she feels a soft hand wrap around her wrist.

She pulls her fingers away from the scar quickly, as Hope blinks her eyes open and then closed again when the light hits her eyes harshly, "Good morning," She mutters groggily.