"This isn't goodbye."

Those were the last words Phee had heard from Hope before they both left the country. They hadn't seen each other in years, obviously, so it was a little strange when they ran into each other at the Mystic Grill. Hope was all Rebekah-fied and Phee was just Phee.

"Hope," she had blurted when she saw her, and she didn't realize it out loud until she was whirling around and grinning at her. "Um, hi."

"Phee! Hi!" She was warm and kind, stepping out from her table to walk over and pull her into a hug. She was a lot smaller than the other girl, fragile and delicate and yet she squeezed her hard enough it hurt her ribs a little. She laughed when she stepped back, almost like she couldn't believe Phee was there in front of her and gave her another beautiful smile. "I haven't seen you in forever! What've you been up to?"

She had shrugged, almost uncomfortable in the Mikealson's presence, hands shoved deep in her pockets. "Just, you know. School. And stuff."

"You're not at the Salvatore School," Hope said, a frown curving over her pretty lips. "Why's that?"

"Um, just." She looked away, aware that her face was probably on fire by then. "Just. The bullying, and. So. Yeah."

Something on the tribrid's face changed and for a moment Phee was afraid she had been pitying her, and honestly, that was the last thing she wanted; but in a moment she was giving her shoulder a gentle shove. "I know you. You're stronger than that."

She didn't say anything for fear of messing up whatever had been going on, but it was okay because Hope's phone had gone off. She read the screen, rolling her eyes and inching her way back into the line.

"It's my mom," she had said in answer to the other girl's curious face, scowling at her feet. "I'm only here to get her and my dad coffee and crap for the drive to the airport, so."

"Oh?" Phee said, eyebrows making their way up her forehead. "Where are you off to?"

"California, for a year," Hope had said, sounding unhappy. "My dad sort of got a job there, and we've had some family crap, and now with Rebekah..."

The Mikealson had trailed off then, glancing up at her with wide eyes before stepping forward. She trailed a little ways behind her, saying a beat too late, "Tomorrow I leave for Europe," as if that is supposed to make her feel better.

It seemed to work though, her eyes lighting up with interest and curiosity. "That's so cool! Way cooler than here, or even California."

Phee had shrugged in a sort of bashful way, kicking at a bump in the ground. "Well, I don't know. I won't do anything, and. So that will suck."

The waitress gave Hope her cheek, and both Hope and Phee had realized she should probably leave. The Mikealson had smiled a little sadly at her, leaning over to giving her another squeezing hug. "Well, I guess that's my cue." She pushed the hair out of the other girl's eyes before stepping away. "This isn't goodbye."

It isn't until Phee gets settled in Europe that she takes up martial arts. Her father's boss' daughter is Rose, and she's a few years older than Phee, maybe, and the type that takes pity on anxiety-ridden teenage girls with literal broken hearts.

It all starts when her family goes to the other girl's family's house for a traditional European dinner (the first of many, as it turns out) and she takes her upstairs to show her her room. And there's a punching bag, and whoa, this girl is even more intense than Hope. And the thought of Hope brings a pang in her chest, along with the pain she was born with, and Rose must see something change on her face because she frowns. "Something wrong?"

She shakes her head but the girl across from her seems like a don't-lie-to-me kind of girl, and in a few moments she's pushed her gloves into the other girl's hands. "Um?"

"Well, go on," she says, nodding her head towards the punching bag like she's some sort of idiot. She rolls her eyes at the other girl's terrified face and shakes her head. "I won't tell your parents if that's what you're worried about." She watches his face carefully, one hand on her hip, and raises her eyebrows. "What's their name?"

"Um, what?"

"Your lover, idiot," Rose says, but there's no bite to it.

"Um." Phee scratches the back of her neck. "Hope. But it's not really important—"

"Nonsense! Of course, it is." Rose claps her hands together excitedly, scurrying around to hold the bag in place. "Okay, now put the gloves on and just punch."

"What?" Phee splutters, dropping the gloves on the ground like they're on fore. "But I don't want to think about Hope while I'm hitting a bag—"

"Think about the jerks that bullied you, then," Rose says, sounding like she's losing patience fast.

Phee drops her head, hiding her wide eyes, and pauses to slow her heart rate. "How did you—"

"I heard our parents talking," she says, waving her hand like it's not important. "But whatever, it's not even the point. The point is that this is how you blow off steam, and if they ever say anything again, you beat them up." She tilts her head, smiling softly. "They won't see it coming."

Phee returns to Mystic Falls with unfamiliar confidence and money she's been secretly saving for real martial arts classes. Not that Rose wasn't a good teacher, but. Well. Things got a little complicated there towards the end.

Despite the confidence, when she sees Hope for the first time since flying back she can't stop her breath from hitching. Their parents stop and talk about the good old days when Hope and Phee exchange hidden smiles, bright on Hope's and shy on Phee's.

When their arrangement starts, Phee ignores the fact that Hope's using her to see someone else and throws herself into martial arts. Her instructors and competitors have no one clue about her heart, about how one day it will shatter, and that's the way she wants it. She's tough now, not quite the same broken girl she used to be, and she's still getting used to it.

"So, when'll you be coming back to the Salvatore School?" Hope's sitting in the booth across from her, sipping her straw prettily. The arcade is loud and hectic, and it almost feels like a date—although Phee's not dumb enough to pretend it is—and if it were a date, it would be Phee's first.

"Um, never?" Phee responds, snorting into her sleeve. "If I never went back there it would be too soon."

Hope's looking at her with that soft sad face and Phee looks down, waiting for the lecture. "Phee, you're different now. Roman and his minions won't screw with you anymore."

Phee just shakes her head. "My parents have been trying to enroll me, but I just don't want to go back."

"Not even for me?" When Phee looks up Hope's got this hopeful smile on her face and she'd quite like to lean across the table and kiss it off. "If I come back, I swear to you things will be better."

She plays with the edge of the paper in his basket of fries, looking down to hide her flush. "I'll think about it."

Soon enough the Mikealson knows about her heart and there's one night where they're watching one of her black and white movies in her room when she presses her small hand over the other girl's chest.

She swears she stops breathing for a moment, a warmth spreading through her, and she watches the tribrid's face as she looks at her. She pulls her lip between her teeth, her fingers twisting in the other girl's shirt slightly.

"It doesn't feel broken to me," she says, voice very soft.

Phee wants to kiss her that night. But she doesn't.

There's a time where they don't talk. Not because of a fight, or anything, but because she doesn't need her as a cover anymore. By then she's moved to the Salvatore School and on her first day, she packs extra anxiety meds and her gloves. But Roman barely even glances at her.

There are two other girls all exactly like Hope but also polar opposites. The only one he knows off the bat is Josie because she's a genius and wins practically every non-athletic competition in Mystic Falls.

But soon enough she's walking home from Holden's party feeling sorry for herself one night when he sees one of the twins walking around. She's obviously drunk, giggling at herself and mumbling names under her breath.

"Um, you're Hope's friend, right?" is what she says when she approaches her, because she doesn't want to come off as creepy or weird. Even though she probably wouldn't remember anyway.

The girl looks up and slings her arm around her neck and just like that she's got a drunk girl clinging to her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm Elizabeth," she says, breath too hot against her ear. "You can call me Lizzie, though. Any friend of Hope's is a friend of mine."

"Um, that's nice," Phee says, stumbling a bit at their combined weight. "Lizzie, is there somewhere I can take you? Like your house, or something?"

She starts shaking her head violently, hair flying. "Nope nope nope. I can't go home like this. I'm too hungry," she adds, dragging out the end.

Phee frowns, watching as she points an unsteady finger at the diner they're passing. "Look! Food! Let's go!"

"Lizzie, I don't think—" But it's useless because she's already off and running towards the entrance. And she follows because she'd do anything for Hope, including taking care of her friend's drunken self.

She orders a milkshake. Phee buys it and halfway through slurping it down the siphon moans about feeling nauseous, getting up at one point to scurry to the bathroom. She calls Hope a few times, but it goes straight to voicemail.

She loses her when a girl he doesn't recognize pulls up alongside the sidewalk they're stumbling down, all shiny red car and too-big sunshades (at night. Which is weird.) "Elizabeth!" she calls, giggling and waving her hand in the air. "I thought that was you. Let me give you a lift!"

Phee's positive it's not one of the girls from Hope's group—it's not Hope or Josie. But Lizzie eagerly trips over and falls into the back seat, laughing almost hysterically. "Um, Lizzie, are you sure this is a good—"

"Listen, sweetheart. It'd look a bit suspicious for her to be walking around on your arm at this time of the night, wouldn't it?" the girl snaps, giving her a smirk before slowly starting her way down the street. "Thanks for bringing her this far, though."

So, all in all, it's weird. But Phee's had weirder nights so she doesn't think much of it.

Hope does though, apparently, because almost a week later she's pulling her away in the middle of second period, tugging her with a vice-like grip on her wrist out the door. "Hope! What are you doing?"

She throws her arm down, and crap, this isn't regular angry Hope, this is pissed off Hope, and Phee actually takes a few steps back in fear. "Why were you with Lizzie that night, Phee? What were you doing? Did you leave her at the graveyard? Did you—did—"

"The graveyard? What?" She's got her hands up in front of her in surrender, even though she technically didn't do anything wrong. At least she doesn't think she did. "What are you talking about?"

She shoves her, and it's not a playful one. "Drop the act! I know you were with her that night! She remembers!"

"Yes, I was with her! I was walking home from a party and she was just, like, drifting and I recognized her from your lunch table so I went to see if she needed help." Hope's shooting daggers at her and it freaks her out, to be honest, so she speeds her words up. "She said she was hungry so we went into a diner and I brought her a milkshake and she got sick and we were leaving and she got in the car with some girl and that was it."

Uncertainty flickers across Hope's face. "What girl?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know her. She had a red car. Big sunglasses."

"Sunglasses at night?"

Phee nods. "Sunglasses at night."

Hope figures out who it is, then. Phee knows her well enough to be able to read it on her face. She covers it up with a scowl, spinning on her heel to stalk away from her. "Hope! Wait!" She sets her hand on her shoulder and she jerks away, her back hitting against the door, causing her to cry out in pain. "Hope—"

"Don't touch me!" she snaps, eyes wide and afraid. "Did you—that night, something happened, and I need to know if you..." she trails off, eyes brimming with tears now, and it makes Phee's heart hurt.

"Hope. What is it?"

She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I can't tell you. Because if I tell you and you did it, it'll kill me, and if I tell you and you didn't do it, you'll end up getting killed."

"Hope, what are you—" She lets her move the hair from her face, and she leans close to her, keeping her voice gentle. "Tell me."

"There are people," she says, voice breaking, "that want things from me and my friends. They want us to be framed for things, and they want us to be afraid. It's sick, really—they make us get what we want in the worst ways." She pauses to wipe delicately at the tears on her cheeks, sniffling. "We can't tell anyone. If we do, we get punished, or someone we know does." She shakes her head, face screwing up again. "I can't be telling you these things, Phee, you'll get hurt."

"I don't care," she says before she can stop herself, and the tribrid looks up at her, having gone very still. "I honestly don't."

"What do you mean?"

She runs her hands through her hair and ignores the way her heartbeat speeds up, throwing caution to the wind. "I'd do anything for you, honestly. It's so dumb because it's so dumb to get attached to someone, but I am. To you. I thought I'd left it behind when I went to Europe, and for a while maybe I did." It's her turn to look away, thinking about Rose.

"There was this girl, see. And she was everything you aren't, which is why I probably picked her. We were friends, at first, but then...we were friends plus a few things. At the end of the summer, she told me she was in love with me, and I didn't say anything back." She shrugs, unable to look at Hope's face. "She knew I was in love with you. She knew I always had been and that I still was." She tilts her face up towards the sky, searching for new things to stare at that aren't Hope. "I still am. And so if you're asking me if I'm one of the people that hurt you, the answer is no."

Finally, she looks at her. The Mikaelson's got her eyes wide, her mouth a little agape, and the other girl swallows and pushes the nervousness down. "I couldn't hurt you if I tried. I could never be one of those people." She holds her gaze, makes sure she's listening to her. "But I swear I won't let them hurt you again."

She's quiet a long time before she says, "You can't promise me that, Phee. You need to pretend you know nothing about those people."

She gets angry, hands curling into fists at her sides. "What? That's insane. I'm going to keep you safe, I have to."

"No," Hope interrupts, voice soft. She's smiling—it's barely there, but she sees it. "You need to pretend you don't know anything and keep yourself safe." She bites her lip, twisting her hands together before looking up at her again. "Because I'm in love with you, too, and losing you would kill me."

Her breath hitches again, and the first thing she can think of to say is "You won't lose me," but it's muffled by the girl's lips pressing over hers.

It's warm and soft and sweet and it's Hope and they can't get enough of each other and Phee can't believe it. She's been waiting for it for years and now that it's happening she has to catch up from her shock—her hands moving her sides to the Mikaelson's bag, pressing her forward into her. The kiss is very soft and so very gentle, Hope pressed close to her.

"It's not broken, you know," Hope says once they've pulled apart, her back pressed up against the wall, Phee's hands bracketing the girl's hips. She must see the look of confusion on her face because she tilts her head back and laughs, not unkindly. "Your heart. People get broken hearts when the person they love doesn't love them back." She smiles again, much softer, and pulls her fingers through the girl's hair. "So no matter what the doctors say, you don't have a broken heart. She presses her lips to the other girl's ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "You never will."