Bloom || HOPE MIKAELSON x RYAN CLARKE

7] FLARES IN THE SKY

With morning comes the end of childhood.

His frown deepened and he shook his head as he finally made his way up the stairs.

He reached the familiar chalkboard with the scribbled 'Hope' hanging from the door, stopping abruptly when he spotted Freya before the frame.
She was all puffy-eyed and forlorn, crestfallen and shaken to the core.
She held her phone in her hand, despair tumbling down her lips as she tried to hold back her tears. She'd shed enough of those for all the lifetimes she'd spared.

''I'll call you back in a minute.'' she muttered into the device when their eyes met.

''Freya-'' she hung up before Klaus could get to say anything else and looked up at Ryan.

He held up the paper bag mechanically, balancing the cups in his other hand.
''I, uh, these aren't quite beignets but I thought-''
''You thought well. She missed breakfast.''

He nodded, handing one of the paper cups to her. She took it gingerly, basking in the warmth spreading through her numb fingers. Everything felt numb.

''Are you okay?'' he doubted the question needed asking, but some rational part of him could only voice his concern.

''I'm trying. I've to be strong for her.'' she unscrewed the lid and let the steam waft up to her face in a scalding embrace.

''You have a right to mourn too,'' he said, ''She was your friend.''

''She was a sister, really.'' she shivered, as if suddenly cold, despite the scorching heat in the hallway.

''All the more reasons then.'' he knocked softly on the door, awaiting a response on the other side.

''I almost forgot... Klaus has a plane ready to take off for us. Leaves in a few hours.''

''When's Hayley's funeral?'' he sighed, hearing Hope's small voice allowing him entrance.

''As soon as we get back. Funerals are very important in New Orleans. And everybody loved Hayley.''

''Not everybody apparently.'' he stepped in, leaving a defeated Freya in the hallway.

Closing the door behind him, he found the youngest Mikaelson's room a complete mess. Clothes were scattered on every flat surface, the window was hanging wide open and the cold air bit at his skin. He scrambled to close it, only then spotting Hope in the corner of the room, in the midst of raiding her closet.

''Hey,'' he said softly, raising the paper bag of sprinkled goods, ''Doughnut?''

''No. Thank you. I've already had breakfast.''

He knew a lie when he saw one but tried not to press any further. Instead, he set the cups down on the desk and lingered by the door, an awkward silence filling the air.

''I have coffee too. I didn't know what you liked so I got three different kinds. I can always go back for more if you don't-''
''It's fine,'' she cut him off, turning back to her closet. Pushing hangers apart, she sighed, ''I don't have anything black to wear.''

He didn't answer and leaned on the desk. This day wasn't going to get any better.

''My dad is coming through Astral projection,'' she continued, finally settling for the darkest dress she owned, ''In case I didn't think this day could suck more.'' she put the dress on the bed, a sigh leaving her lips. ''How do I do my hair?''

''Hope,'' he finally closed the distance between them and took her trembling hands in his, ''You don't have to do that. Not with me.''

''What are you talking about?''