Her name hung in the air like a discordant note, cutting through the silence of the square. Ethan felt a lump in his throat, the sound of "Hope" echoing in his mind like a scream he couldn't answer. He wanted to turn around, to look at her, but his eyes remained fixed on the sky, as if the stars could give him an answer. The icy blue and wild green shone in the moonlight, hiding the tears he had already wiped away. She doesn't know me , he thought, the knowledge crushing him like a stone. But being here, so close to her, even without being recognized, was both a torment and a relief.
Hope wiped her face again, the sound of her tears muffled by her sleeve, and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. The weight of his words still wrapped around her, like a rope she couldn't cut. She didn't understand why this stranger—Ethan—made her feel so much, but the emptiness he described was the same one she'd carried since Malivore. The silence between them was heavy, but something about him compelled her to stay, to listen, even though it hurt.
Ethan finally broke the silence again, his voice low and husky, almost hesitant. "A girl as beautiful as you shouldn't cry," he said, still not looking at her directly, the words coming out almost like a thought out loud. He didn't know why he said it—maybe it was the instinct to comfort her, the same instinct that had made him want to protect her in another time, in another life.
Hope froze, her tears stopping for a moment as heat rose to her face. She flushed, her cheeks a soft red that contrasted with her puffy eyes. Pretty? she thought, her heart beating faster. For some reason, this boy she'd just met was stirring in her in a way she couldn't quite understand. It was more than his words—it was the way he said them, as if they carried a weight she felt but couldn't quite reach. She sniffed softly, wiping her face once more, and then looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time.
Her heart skipped a beat, nearly bursting out of her chest. His eyes... they were different colors. A cold blue, sharp as ice, and a vibrant green, wild as a forest, shone in the moonlight. Heterochromia. She had never seen anything like it up close, and the impact left her breathless for a second. Those eyes seemed to hold an entire world, a mystery that pulled her like a magnet. Who is he? she thought, her blue eyes wide as she stared at him, her tears forgotten for a moment.
Ethan caught her gaze, the corner of his eye catching the way she was watching him. He turned his head slightly, just enough to meet her eyes for an instant, and the air between them became electric. He saw the flush on her cheeks, the confusion mixed with something else in the blue eyes he knew so well, and he felt his chest tighten. She's looking at me like… But he knew that wasn't possible. Lucifer had erased everything. Still, that look made him hesitate, his heart fighting against reason. He took a deep breath, trying to keep calm, and decided to ask something to fill the void. "What's your story, Hope?" he said, his voice soft, almost casual, but filled with a curiosity he couldn't hide. "What brought you here, crying alone in a square?"
Hope blinked, taken aback by the question. She hesitated, her fingers fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt as she thought about what to say. He was a stranger—she didn't even know him—and she had no idea that Ethan was a supernatural being like her. So she'd chosen a safe version of her life, omitting what really mattered. "I… I'm just a girl who lost a lot," she began, her voice low and hesitant. "My family… my parents died when I was little. I grew up bouncing from place to place, trying to find a home, but it never worked out. And now, it feels like everyone I know has just… forgotten about me. I don't know how to explain it. It's like I'm invisible." She smiled weakly, almost bitterly, looking down at the floor. "Pathetic, huh?"
Ethan listened in silence, his heart clenching with every word. He knew the truth—her parents, Klaus and Hayley, the Mikaelson legacy, the weight of the supernatural she carried. But this Hope, this version of him who didn't know him, was telling a half-truth, and he accepted that. She didn't even know him yet, and as much as it hurt, as much as he wanted her to remember, he couldn't force it. Still, there was something more there, something he understood better than she could ever imagine. It was the imprint—that bond the universe had forged between them, a bond that transcended time or memory or even Lucifer's manipulations. He felt it, like one magnet pulling another, a force that couldn't be erased, no matter how much the world changed. This Hope didn't know what it was, didn't understand why her heart beat faster around him, but Ethan did. And somehow, that was enough for now.
"It's not pathetic," he said, his voice firm but soft. "Losing everything... I know what it's like. And I don't think you're invisible. Not to me, anyway." He almost regretted the last words, but they slipped out before he could stop them, carried by that connection he couldn't deny.
Hope looked up, surprised by his answer. The blush returned to her cheeks, stronger now, and she felt that thunder echo in her soul again. Not to me , she repeated in her mind, her heart racing. Why did he say these things? Why did it seem so true? She looked at him again, his heterochromia eyes holding her like a spell. "And you?" she asked, her voice shaking a little. "What's your story?"
Ethan gave a weak, almost broken smile and turned his eyes to the sky. "My story is similar to yours," he said, keeping the truth hidden for now. "I lost my family, I lost who I was. Now I'm just… wandering, trying to make sense of what's left." He paused, the weight of the moment threatening to engulf him, and then decided to lighten the tension with a joke, his tone light and easy. "I mean, I try to drown myself in vodka to forget, but it seems my liver is too stubborn to give up on me." He chuckled dryly, shaking his head in self-mockery, and let the bottle slide to the floor, the glass clinking against the concrete.
Hope couldn't help the small, almost involuntary smile that escaped her lips. The joke, simple and self-deprecating, cut through the tension like an unexpected breeze, and she felt a momentary relief. "You're weird," she said, her voice still husky from tears but with a hint of lightness that hadn't been there before. "But…I think I understand the vodka thing."
Ethan finally looked at her properly, his heterochrome eyes meeting hers—blue and green against blue—and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Her smile, even small, was like an echo from the past, and he felt his heart clench again. He understood what was happening, even if she didn't. It was as if the universe conspired to keep them together, two souls drawn together like magnets, no matter what Lucifer had done. He could have erased their memories, rewritten the world, but he couldn't erase this—that tug that held them together, that silent certainty that pulsed in Ethan's chest. She was his, and he was hers, even if she didn't understand it yet. But the longer he stood there, the more it hurt to know that she didn't remember, that that smile wasn't for the Ethan she had once loved. He took a deep breath, the weight of it all finally catching up with him, and made a decision.
"I better get going," he said, his voice low, almost reluctant, as he rose from the bench. He adjusted his new jacket on his shoulders, the leather creaking slightly, and looked at her one last time. "It was nice meeting you, Hope. Take care, okay?" He gave her a curt nod, a simple goodbye, and started to turn away, his boots echoing on the concrete as he took the first few steps away.
Hope stood still for a second, the sound of his boots hitting the floor reverberating in her ears like an alarm. Don't go , she thought, her heart racing as she watched him walk away. She didn't want him to leave so quickly. She wanted to talk to him more, to hear more of that husky voice that seemed to soothe something inside her, to understand why he made her feel like the ground could give way at any moment. Why? she wondered internally, her fingers gripping the edge of the bench tightly. I don't even know him, but… I don't want him to go. She didn't understand it, but the urge was stronger than reason, as if something invisible was holding her to him. Still, she took a deep breath and forced a weak smile, the words coming out almost reflexively. "Bye, Ethan," she said, her voice low, trying to sound casual, even though every syllable hurt.
Ethan paused for a moment, the sound of her goodbye cutting into him like a knife. He turned his head slightly, his heterochromia eyes meeting hers one last time, and nodded. "Bye, Hope," he said, his voice soft but filled with something she couldn't quite decipher. Then he kept walking, his figure fading into the dim light of the square, the echo of his boots slowly fading.