Lizzie had moved to the second, not-destroyed punching bag by the time Hope was pushing open the gym doors. Hope stopped, watching Lizzie for a moment and wondering if she’d even noticed someone was here. Maybe she could just slip back out unseen. 
Instead, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t know anyone was in here. I can come back later.”
Lizzie stopped punching and stared at Hope over her shoulder. Hope just stared back. Lizzie’s ponytail was plastered to her forehead and her eyes were still red from crying. Hope's tongue was suddenly stuck.
“Well, are you going to leave or not?” Lizzie demanded after a moment, her voice still thick from crying. 
“Or I could stay,” Hope said. “If you needed a sparring partner or … company.”
“What makes you think I need a sparring partner?” 
Hope held her arms out at her sides. “Just thought you might want to actually hurt something,” she joked half-heartedly. “You know, the bag doesn’t feel anything.”
Lizzie just glared at her. Even Hope Mikaelson of all people thought she liked to hurt people. 
“Look,” Hope said sharply, getting ready to leave. “I just thought maybe we could move past whatever childish grudge you hold against me for the sake of everyone around us, but whatever.”
“You know what you did,” Lizzie said, suddenly angry. “Don’t pretend like this is on me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Hope protested.
Lizzie rolled her eyes and turned back to the bag. “Sure.”
Hope looked around the gym, eyes going from Lizzie’s back to the wreckage of the first punching bag. “Whatever. You look like you’re having fun.”
She turned, closing the door harder than necessary behind her.