Celebrity/Character Imagines

Hope Mikaelson: Romeo and Juliet

I'd never been a big believer in love. I thought it was overrated, over-exaggerated, stupid. It made people do crazy things, things that often lead to heartbreak, angst and pain. Having been an outcast most of my life, love had never really seemed all that great. The version of love I'd been exposed to was my mom kicking me out of the house because I was a vampire. It was my dad walking out on us the second my mom gave birth to me. It was every friend I'd ever known turning their backs on me.

So no, I'd never believed in the kind of love the old stories talk about. When I'd first heard the story of Romeo and Juliet in 7th grade, I'd scoffed at the stupidity of it all; killing yourself simply because the supposed 'love of your life' was dead? It angered me that love had so much power over people; that this apparently overwhelming, incredible emotion could cause death. Love was like a cancer to me.

It took me 18 years of my life to realise how truly wrong I was.

"Did you lock the door?" Hope panted, breathless as I pulled her onto my lap. I nodded and brought her lips back to mine, one hand gripping her waist, the other cupping her jaw. She moaned quietly into my mouth, her hands tangling in my hair. Smirking, I moved my hands down onto her ass and squeezed gently, the way I knew she liked it. I was rewarded with another breathy moan and a tug to my hair. Hope pulled back and gazed at me with lust-dilated pupils.

It was like magic, the way we fit together, like we were moulded specifically to be with one another. Not just physically, although that side of our relationship was pretty fucking awesome, but in general. We both had the same sense of dry humour, both had gone through great loss in our messed-up lives, were both usually considered outsiders in most things we did. But we'd found each other.

It hadn't been instant, that almost soul-deep connection I now felt I had with the girl. In fact, we'd hated each other. We'd always been in competition; whether it be school work, fighting, or just who could one up each other with snarky insults and witty comebacks. Alaric had noticed the tension between us and had either just wanted to get rid of the problem between his students, or had seen the tension for what it really was; wanting.

So he'd paired us up at any chance he got; in class, he must've told our teachers, because we were then suddenly partners for everything; when training with Hope, he'd always invite me to come along and spar with her; he'd send us on missions, just the two of us. Neither of us had been over the moon at this arrangement, given that we thought we couldn't stand the other. Turns out, Alaric had been right. Our tension wasn't because we hated each other; it was because we saw a kindred spirit, a twin soul in this fucked-up world and didn't know how to deal with it. So we'd fought and argued and bickered, anything to mask the overwhelming need to be close to each other in all and any ways possible.

I gazed up at my girlfriend and allowed an adoring smile to grace my features. God, I was so in love with her.

See, both of us had serious issues with trust and everything that came with it. We'd both been fucked over before, both been betrayed and hurt by the ones closest to us. So, forging new connections was never easy for either of us, especially with people our own age.

When Alaric had first began his project of getting Hope and I to connect, it was grudging and reluctant respect we treated each other with. Our pair work in class was done in clipped tones, no small talk, no jokes. You could practically see the hostility radiating from the both of us as we discussed the tasks. Sparring with Alaric as a spectator was never gentle, never playful. It was fierce and competitive, both of us trying our hardest to best the other, vying for our headmaster's approval.

But it was missions that had never failed to provide some of the defining moments in the development of our gradually thawing relationship. It was always me and her. Just me and her. And the tasks were always conveniently far away from the school, so there were many lengthy car rides where we sat together and began to get to know each other. It was on one of these long journeys that Hope had  first opened up to me about the loss of her parents. We'd fought against a couple of demon-like creatures in a town a couple of hours away from the Salvatore School and were returning home, me driving, Hope in the passenger seat.