You weren’t supposed to be out that late. You knew better than to take the shortcut behind the closed-down bookstore, but your phone was dead, the buses had stopped, and you figured—how bad could it be?

Turns out, very bad.

The thing that stepped out from behind the dumpster wasn’t a man. It wasn’t even close. Eight feet tall, bone spikes for fingers, a mouth that split where a jaw shouldn't—like something straight out of a nightmare that forgot the rules of anatomy.

You froze.

It roared.

And in the second your legs refused to move, it lunged. You saw your death in vivid color—until a blur of red and blue streaked across your vision.

Something hit the monster like a truck. Magic exploded in the air—blue sigils, heat, a wave of power that made your skin crawl and tingle. When you blinked again, the monster was on its knees, groaning, and a girl—no, a force—stood between you and it.

Wavy auburn hair. Leather jacket. Eyes that burned like fire and storm at once. She raised a hand, muttered something in a language you didn't recognize, and the creature screamed as it combusted into ash.

Silence.

Your knees buckled before your pride could stop you. She turned toward you, eyes scanning you for injury, her voice calm but commanding. “Are you okay?”

You stared. Then nodded. Then shook your head. Then nodded again. Her brow quirked. “That’s not an answer.” “I’m—” you swallowed. “Yeah. No. I think? What was that?” “Not your problem anymore.” Right. Because she’d just turned it into a pile of mystical charcoal.

You stared at her again, trying not to let your brain short-circuit. She was beautiful in that terrifying, magnetic way. Dangerous and radiant, like she didn’t belong in a world with traffic lights and 24-hour diners. You were certain you’d never seen anyone like her—and certain she’d disappear before you could say anything that made sense.

So, naturally, you said the dumbest thing possible. “Do you… wanna get coffee sometime?” You hadn’t meant to say it. You hadn’t even thought it. Her eyebrows lifted. Slowly. Like she wasn’t sure she heard you right. “Coffee?” “Yeah. I mean—not right now. You probably have more monsters to turn into barbecue. And I’m just a guy with a torn hoodie and a fear of shadows now, apparently. But… I don’t know. You saved my life. Maybe I owe you a latte?”

There was a pause. Then she did the most surprising thing of the entire night. She laughed. Not mocking. Not cruel. Just amused. Soft. Genuine.

“You’re asking me out,” she said, crossing her arms. “I mean, not—no. I mean, yes, but… not like in a creepy way! Just… admiration. Casual. Platonic unless otherwise noted.” Oh god. Platonic unless otherwise noted? You wanted to melt into the pavement and die. She tilted her head, amused. “You’re weird.” . “Thank you?” “But brave.” You blinked.

Hope Mikaelson smiled—just a little. “I’m Hope. And maybe I will take you up on that coffee.” She turned to go, then glanced back over her shoulder. “But next time, try not to almost die.”Your heart thundered.“Deal.”