Fight With Me

Chapter 8

Perfect—I can take your scene and rewrite it so it flows cleanly with your established style while keeping Josie and Lizzie's POVs, the tension, and Hope's immediate connection, but keeping the narrative more taut, urgent, and grounded, and stripping out unnecessary melodrama or overexplaining. Here's the revised chapter:

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Josie's POV

I slowly blinked my eyes open and realized my hands were bound behind me. Panic clawed at my chest. I reached out, feeling a hand close by. Turning my head as far as I could, I saw blonde hair.

"Lizzie?" I whispered, trying to grab her hand. It was just out of reach.

"Let me sleep, Jo. It's Sunday," she murmured, voice thick with grogginess.

"Lizzie, wake up."

She stirred, lifting her head. "What the—?"

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Lizzie's POV

I rubbed at my temple, pulse thumping behind my eyes. "Where are we?" I asked. "Jo... what's the last thing you remember?"

Josie hesitated. "We went somewhere to talk... then we saw something by a tree a few feet away. We walked over, and..." Her words trailed off, worry crossing her features. "That's it. I don't remember anything else."

I groaned, pressing my palms to my face. "Great. Just great."

We reached out, doing our best to hold each other's hands despite being tied back to back.

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Josie's POV

Silence pressed in. Then it hit me. "Oh... oh my gosh, Hope."

My chest tightened. "Lizzie... we left her. She was waiting for us."

"Jo... Dad's on his way," Lizzie said, her grip firm but tense. She didn't look at me, eyes scanning the room instead, like she was trying to figure out a way out. "I don't know if he can help, but... we'll see. Where are we?"

The room was bare—tan walls, one window, one white door, wood floors. Then footsteps upstairs.

The white door clicked, unlocking. A man stepped inside. He was around 5'11", hoodie and jeans, expression unreadable.

"Well, hello twins. Glad you could finally join us," he said, smirking.

Lizzie scoffed, trying to mask her fear. "And you are?"

"My name isn't important," he replied. "What matters is that Hope Mikaelson comes to save you. Then I plan to end her. Her family destroyed my life—I intend to return the favor."

From downstairs, a voice called: "Hey, can you come down here real quick?"

He rolled his eyes. "No one can do anything themselves anymore, huh? I'll be back. Enjoy the view." He laughed, then left, locking the door behind him.

I exhaled shakily. "Lizzie... what now?"

We sat back, the silence stretching.

⸻

Hope's POV

I opened my eyes, scanning the room, and froze. Josie and Lizzie were tied back to back, chairs holding them in place.

"Hope?" Josie's voice croaked.

I rushed forward, kneeling close, hands hovering near theirs. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Josie's eyes, red from fear, met mine. "Thank god... Hope? Is that really you?"

"Yes," I said firmly, though my chest ached seeing them like this. I noticed the bruises and slight crookedness in my knuckles. "I'll explain later. Right now, I need to get you out."

Rows of white tombstones stretched in the distance outside the window, shadows deepening as night fell.

"Hope?" Josie's voice trembled. "A man... he came in. About 5'11", hoodie, jeans... he wants you to show up so he can kill you. Said your family ruined his life. I just..." She paused. "...I can't let you get hurt for us."

I crouched close to Josie, keeping my eyes on her. "I'm coming for you, Jo. I'll get you out of here."

She gave a small, shaky laugh, more relief than anything else.

I glanced at Lizzie, noting her tied-up hands and tense posture. "And you... stay calm. I'll get you free too."

Josie's eyes stayed locked on me. "Hope..."

"I've got you," I said firmly. "Just hang on."

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, trusting me to handle this. I exhaled and focused, already planning my next move.

Movement downstairs caught my attention. I stood, locking my focus. "I will be back. Stay strong."

Josie's eyes met mine. "Always," she said quietly.

I exhaled and closed my eyes, centering myself, ready to act.