It was sunny when Hope opened her eyes again. She could hear someone moving around the living room.

“Sorry,” Landon whispered when he caught her sleepy gaze. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He dropped to his knees in front of the couch, folding his arms and resting his chin on them to look up at her. “How did you sleep?”

“The second time?” Hope raised her eyebrows. “Very well.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you.”

Landon smiled briefly. “I have to get to set. Rafael should be here any minute.”

“Rafael?” Hope sat up, furrowing her eyebrows down at her husband. 

Landon nodded. “He’s gonna stay with you today. Just in case any more weird messages or gifts arrive.”

“Doesn’t he have a job to do too?” Hope asked lightly.

“Ah.” Landon shrugged and wrinkled his nose. “His really nice, really generous boss gave him the day off.”

Hope laughed, pressing her hands to his cheeks and pulling his face back to hers for another kiss. Landon smoothed her hair down and pressed a final kiss to the top of her head, looking up when someone knocked gently on the front door.

“That’ll be Rafael. I’ll be right back.”

Hope smiled at him, sitting up and reaching for her phone. She was almost afraid to unlock the screen, but there were no new messages waiting. Maybe it was just one weird night. Everything could be over now, in less than twelve hours. Like it was nothing more than a bad dream.

“Hey.” Rafael smiled at Hope from the entryway. 

“Hi.”

“Your body guard has arrived,” he joked, flopping down in one of the armchairs.

“Please.” Hope laughed. “I think we both remember how I used to kick your ass in high school.”

“That was high school!” Rafael protested over the sounds of Hope’s giggles. “I’ve grown since then!”

“You two have fun,” Landon said, hovering near the doorway with his keys in his hand. “I’ll be back late, but I have my phone on me.”

Hope hurried to give him one final kiss goodbye on her way to the bathroom and he was gone by the time she got back.

“So what are we doing today, Miss Mikaelson?” Rafael asked, assuming a stiff position with his hands professionally folded in front of him and trying to fight the laughter at his own bad impression.

Hope narrowed her eyes softly. “That’s Mrs. Mikaelson,” she said slowly, the corners of her mouth turning up involuntarily.

Rafael returned the vague smile, eyes moving up and down her face. “Right …”

No. No. For fuck’s sake, Hope, no.

Hope turned quickly, headed for the kitchen. “I’m making breakfast and then I have some work to finish up before the showing tomorrow,” she said matter-of-factly. “You can help yourself to anything in the pantry and on the TV.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Mikaelson.”