Converted Hosie Oneshots

Loves Not A Bad Word

By: hosie (lovewinx) on archiveofourown

Josie's POV

"I'm sure she's just busy," Lizzie reassures me as I stare down at my phone - my phone that has about six texts from me to Hope that have been read but left unanswered.

"Yeah," I sigh, locking the screen and tossing the device onto my bed.

My sister frowns over at me, her eyebrows knit together. I feel her gaze on me for a few seconds before I snap, "What?"

She sighs. "Why do you pick these people? First Penelope, now Hope... Valentine's Day is tomorrow, Jo. Spend it with someone who treats you the right way."

I don't respond, I just glance at my dark phone once more. I don't want to spend it with anyone other than Hope, but she's been so distant lately. I can feel her pulling away, and I don't know what to do to get her back.

Lizzie's POV

After a few more moments of watching my sister mope, I stand and head towards the door. "Where are you going?" she asks.

"I'll be back," I say, not bothering to actually answer her question. If I did, she'd prevent me from leaving.

As soon as the door shuts behind me, my pace quickens, and within minutes I'm at the tribrid's door. I knock sharply, my features already settling into a glare. There is a shuffling from inside, but then the door swings open and I am met with a confused-looking Hope Mikaelson. "Lizzie," she greets, her voice a mixture of shock and fear.

My glare deepens as I push past her and into her room. There is paint on her hands and a canvas set up on her easel, so I assume she was painting, but I don't care enough to see what it is. I just turn around and face the redhead who has just shut the door and is now standing in front of me, shifting her weight from one foot to the other anxiously. "Did I do something?" she asks, her voice cautious so she won't set me off anymore than I already am.

"No," I bark. At the rise of her eyebrow, I elaborate, "It's what you didn't do. You've been ignoring all of Josie's texts, you haven't hung out with her in a few days, you don't even sit with us at meals anymore!"

"To be fair, I don't sit with anyone at meals," she argues, but it doesn't help her case.

I sigh frustratedly, then soften my voice a bit when I talk about the brunette. "She's been panicking. I know you don't care about many people and you think you're so independent that you can't let anyone in, but she cares about you - I don't know why - and it's killing her that you're ignoring her like this. She thinks she did something wrong and caused you to pull away."

Throughout my rant, Hope's features relax into a guilty expression and she averts eye contact, then she runs a hand through her hair with a small sigh when I finish. I refrain from telling her that there's now black paint mixed in with the auburn locks. Instead, I wait for her to say something, anything.

After a few moments of silence, she finally opens her mouth. "She didn't do anything," she sighs, her blue eyes meeting mine.

"Well, yeah, I know that," I retort. "But she doesn't."

"I'm sorry," she says in the same defeated voice.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

Hope sighs again, then passes me to go sit on her bed, staring down at her hands. I watch her go, then follow her a second later. I sit next to her, but my eyes don't go to her, they go to the familiar face staring back at me from her easel: it's Josie. She was painting Josie.