AN: Song : Home (Tom Rosenthal)
When Hope pulled away, she met Jinx’s gaze and blushed.
The two women remained lost in each other’s eyes.
It was as if some part of Hope was telling her that this was where she belonged.
She forced herself to look away, feeling that if she didn’t, she might lose herself in those eyes forever.
“I’ve got something better than a couch,” she said before pulling a tent out of her storage space.
“I’m not sure if I should be offended that you think a tent is better than my couch,” Jinx said before flopping dramatically onto said couch.
Hope smiled.
Suddenly, the tent unfolded without Hope making a single gesture.
Within seconds, it was fully set up.
“It’s not just a tent,” Hope said at last.
She motioned for Jinx to follow her, while the blue-haired woman stared at the tent with open curiosity.
When Jinx stepped inside, her eyes widened with surprise and wonder.
“How?” she whispered.
The inside of the tent was enormous.
Couches and a bed covered in furs filled the space.
Everything seemed designed for comfort.
But what astonished Jinx the most was the balcony and the windows overlooking a forest.
It was impossible.
They were in the depths of Zaun’s underground.
“My aunt wanted me to have a home away from home.
So she created this little world inside the tent just for me.
But to me, my real home has always been my family and friends.
This place can’t replace them,” Hope said wistfully.
“It’s beautiful.
She must really love you,” Jinx said, a hint of envy in her voice.
“I’ve never doubted her love.
After my parents died, she was the one who made me believe I was still loved despite all my mistakes.”
Hope noticed Jinx searching for the right words after hearing her mention her parents and offered her a sad smile.
“You can have the couch,” Hope said jokingly.
“What?”
“Your hideout shows off a lot of your creativity, but I think you’ll like this tent too.
After all, it’s hiding a few more surprises.”
“You’re already trying to get me to move in with you.
Isn’t it a little too soon?
You’re moving awfully fast, Mikaelson,” Jinx teased.
But her smile faded when she saw the look in Hope’s eyes.
“Hope?”
Jinx flushed instantly.
Hope leaned close, her lips near Jinx’s now-scarlet ear.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.
Do you know your scent reflects your emotions?
You’re joking, but I can smell so many things.
You smell like a storm—uncontrollable, violent, and free.
You smell of excitement, of rage, but also of sadness, a sadness that’s eating away at your bones.
You smell of hope, but also desire and passion intertwined with fear.
But you don’t have to be afraid.
Not of me.
Never of me.
I know how to be patient, Jinx, and I will be patient.”
Hope stepped back, leaving behind a trembling young woman.
Internally, Hope was panicking.
Why did I do that?
It’s over.
Completely over.
She’s going to throw me out and tell me to leave her alone.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I’m sure that idiot Ferryman is somehow responsible for my complete lack of inhibition.
Consumed by love and desire.
Fuck.
Hope looked away and refused to meet Jinx’s eyes.
She had to be furious after being analyzed like that.
“I thought I was dramatic, but you, Hope Mikaelson, are even more dramatic than I am,” Jinx said, though the blush still coloring her cheeks made it clear that Hope’s words had not fallen on deaf ears.
“Don’t you have any other surprises to show me?” Jinx continued, trying to break the strange atmosphere that had settled between them.
Hope looked at her, then took her hand.
A staircase appeared beneath their feet.
Slowly, she guided Jinx down the steps.
They passed through several rooms—a kitchen, a bathroom—and eventually found themselves lying on the veranda.
“Why does it feel like there’s a breeze?”
“It’s an illusion.
We’re not actually outside, but our brains think we are.
Watch.”
Hope imagined a heavy rainstorm, and immediately rain began to fall.
Then she imagined snow, and soon flakes drifted down, covering the trees.
“That’s fascinating,” Jinx said.
“You can try it yourself if you want,” Hope said.
“Ever since I arrived here, I’ve noticed that almost everyone has a trace of magic.
It varies from person to person.
Mages are simply the ones who have the most of it.
The magic inside you resembles you—it’s chaotic.
And with the amount you have, I’m surprised it’s never manifested.
Even if you can’t access it directly, the tent will do all the work for you.
Just use your imagination, and it’ll handle the rest.”
Jinx closed her eyes, and soon daylight was replaced by night.
A shower of comets appeared across the sky.
“It’s beautiful,” Hope said with a smile.
But the smile vanished when she noticed one of the comets getting closer and closer to them.
When it seemed about to hit the tent, Hope screamed.
The comet vanished instantly, and the sky returned to normal.
A thunderous laugh followed.
“You should’ve seen your face!
And that scream!” Jinx said, doubling over with laughter.
The laughter was interrupted by Jinx’s outraged yell.
Hope stood with her hands outstretched, and Jinx was completely drenched.
“I hadn’t gotten my revenge for all that paint yet,” Hope said simply.
“You know what this means, Mikaelson.
This is war,” Jinx declared before pouncing on her and starting to tickle her.
An hour later, Jinx stepped out of the bathroom wearing a hoodie with the Salvatore School logo on it and a pair of shorts.
She looked adorable, but Hope’s gaze remained fixed on something else.
Without the braids, Jinx’s hair fell all the way to the floor like a curtain of blue silk.
Beautiful, Hope thought.
“How do you even manage to style that?” she asked curiously.
Right before her eyes, the blue strands began to float.
Slowly, the braids formed themselves.
“Definitely a mage.”
“What?” Jinx asked, as if she had no idea what had just happened.
“Do you realize your hair braids itself?” Hope said.
“It’s always done that.
Zaunite hair is weird.”
“Oh, no.
That’s not normal.
That’s magic.
You’re a mage, Jinx.”
AN : The protagonists are eighteen years old.
Jinx’s older sister is twenty-three.
I’m clarifying this in case the story becomes more mature.