Can't Say I Don't Love You (A Sokeefe AU)

Chapter 9

A/N: Hiiii peoplezzz...

Warning: This oneshot involves sad and slightly depressing scenes from Sophie's past.

~

Sophie

The next day, while being driven to school, they were all too quiet.

Linh, being a poorer fighter than Sophie, had sustained more wounds from the brawl during the Conference. Still, those paled in comparison to the bruises all over Sophie. And Liam.

The fact that Torrel somehow just kept getting colder had helped. The long sleeved, hooded jacket and faded long jeans Sophie wore covered the worst of the bruises. Not the ones on her face though. 

Those couldn't be covered, unless she used makeup, and she hated makeup. Being slightly allergic to it was a fun, bonus excuse not to use it.

She kept her hood up as she stalked to her locker and swapped out her textbooks, Linh flanking her. 

A hand rested on her shoulder. Right on top of where one of her more serious injuries was. Great. 

Sophie whipped around. "What the heck, Sencen?"

"Whoa, whoa, chill," Keefe held up his hands in surrender. "Just wanted to ask if- " He cut himself off. 

His ice blue eyes scanned her face. Her cheekbone and jaw were marred with cuts and wounds.

"What happ-"

"Don't ask."

She stalked off to her next class without saying anything more.

~

"Sophie, see me after class," Edaline said quietly as she walked past Sophie's desk during Advanced Math.

She stiffened for a moment before briefly nodding and getting back to her work. 

She could feel her classmate's stares on her back, but she ignored them. She was used to it. Used to the rumours and lies and stories tossed about behind her back at Wrath. Whenever she accepted a new subordinate, they'd question if she really was who the stories claimed she was. 

Ruthless? Completely cold-blooded without a care in the world? The best fighter in Trio? Constantly abused by her own father?

The answers were all no. Except the last one. Obviously, she had all the scars to prove it.

So she swallowed the urge to turn around and glare at people, and instead looked back down at her work, determined to finish it before the bell rang. 

When it did, she actually managed to finish whatever was supposed to be completed at home. So yay, one less piece of homework.

Someone dropped a note in her lap. She looked up to see Keefe staring at her. Read it, he mouthed, before slinking out of the class alongside everyone else. 

It was out of pure curiosity did she open the note. 

I don't know what's going on, and you probably aren't going to tell me, but just know, I'm here if you need me.

She clenched her jaw to keep from shouting out. Maybe it was because of his casual handwriting. Or the fact that his gaze had been so sincere when she caught the note. But if she was being honest with herself, it was because he'd forgiven her for her hostile attitude towards him, and still treated her as a friend. But the wave of guilt she felt was not gentle.

Keefe cared.

She stood up, slipping her books under her arm and making her way towards the teacher's table.