kotlc ;; random things

Forever Gone

[This is a oneshot I actually had an idea for a long time. I need it to be sad, so um, I can cry and that'll make me feel better because I can't read about Aelin and Rowan c: And, yeah!]

She's . . . gone. Keefe couldn't process that, and he probably never will. She's gone, and it's all his fault. If he just—

Keefe sighed, turning his head slightly at Sophie's body. She's gone . . .

Everything he loved about her: her smile, her laugh, her overall amazingness . . . all gone. His fault. Everything was. And because of him, she was gone . . . forever. And everyone knew that, despite their enthusiasm, Foster was gone, and it was his fault. He had to come to terms with that.

Keefe brushed the flower petals on Sophie's floor. He glanced at Sophie, lying on her bed, twitching and screaming. And every scream pierced his soul, slowly crumbling his heart.

The girl he loved was gone . . .

Keefe brushed away a stray tear. He was beyond being comforted. He put his head on his knees as someone came in through the door. Keefe looked up.

Grady and Edaline were standing in the doorway. They looked horrible, Grady's eyes had dark purple circles around them. His hair was unkempt and his clothes were wrinkled. If it was possible, Edaline looked worse. Her hair was in large clumps around her head and her eyes were dull. She didn't even bother to change out of her robe.

"Keefe," Grady choked out. He crossed the room to grab Sophie's hairbrush.

"What are you doing?" Keefe asked, his voice hoarse from hours of crying and self-pity. He watched with wary eyes as Grady went to pluck a golden blonde strand of hair from the brush.

"For the planting," Edaline cried, then fled the room, her sobs echoing in the house. Grady watched with heavy eyes.

"Planting? Why? Foster's not dead," Keefe replied. He wiped his eyes unconsciously. He glanced at Foster's limp figure on the bed.

"They need to grieve Keefe," Grady replied wearily. Keefe was at a loss for words. Foster wasn't dead, but they were all treating it as if she was. Keefe turned away, heading for the door.

"Keefe . . ." Grady called, but Keefe was already halfway down the stairs. He sniffed and entered the living room.

Everyone was there. As in everyone. Biana was crying, her head in her lap. Fitz was staring into space, his hands clenched. Dex's eyes were red-rimmed, brimming with tears. Linh's cheeks glistened with tears and her hand was tightly clenched by Tam. He looked really sad, and even Keefe couldn't bring himself to say something about his mussed hair.

Marella was curled up against the wall, Della and Alden whisper crying. Even Councillor Oralie was there, sobbing into a handkerchief.

He had done this. He had made them all into a crying blob.

Mr. Forkle was sniffing into his sleeve when Keefe spotted him. Keefe made his way to sit next to him.

"Fix her," he whispered. Forkle looked up.

"What?"

"Fix her," he said more clearly. His eyes were pure pain as he told him he couldn't. Tears threatened to leak out of Keefe's eyes, but he held them in.

"Fix her," he repeated. "I know you can do it. You can't just let her die like that."

"I-I can't. Only Sophie can do that, and well she's . . ." Mr. Forkle trailed off, his eyes distant, shining with unshed tears.

Keefe sniffed, "Please." Mr. Forkle turned away. Keefe gave up. The tears in his eyes leaked out, making a cool trail where it slid down his cheek. His heart was in pieces, and the only person who could've saved him was Foster.