• HUMAN AU •
As a seizure of panic skittered down Sophie's spine, she rushed toward the bathroom, her hip colliding with the door on her way. She flipped the lights and choked on breath, struggling to maintain any semblance of composure. For what reason, she had no idea.
Keefe was gone, and unless there was a hobo living in their attic, she assumed she was alone.
Sophie turned on the sink and let the water trickle through her fingers. She tried hard to remember the exercises that Keefe had taught her: inhale for three seconds, exhale for double. But in her panic she could hardly remember his name.
Her jaw clenched, and she forced herself to loosen it. The last thing she needed right now was a broken tooth.
"Breathe," she ordered herself, scared by how weak her voice had become.
Only an hour earlier she'd been Face-timing her husband. Rather than being states away, today he was only an hour scarce of their apartment. She never knew exactly where he'd travel next, thanks to his career in modeling: the boy was just too hot for his own good.
And as much as Sophie supported him, she hated being away from him all the time. Her panic attacks were more frequent than they'd ever been, and without anyone else in the house, she was terribly lonely.
As her hands shook, she thought about calling him again. Even the sound of his voice would be bliss right now.
A hug sounded liked heaven.
But since he would still be gone for two days, she'd have to settle for the pictures of him in their bedroom.
Breathing again in Keefe's fashion, Sophie forced herself to return to the bedroom. Today she hadn't left it other than to eat some cereal, and half of that she couldn't even stomach.
Sophie silently cursed Keefe's manager. Of all the days to take him from her, she'd really chosen their anniversary?
The idiot.
She wanted to scream, maybe throw one of their cheap chairs out the third story window. She'd love to break something if it meant a distraction from her mental health. But she wasn't a bad girl, despite being married to a bad boy, so she settled for sinking into the mattress and pulling the covers up to her neck.
After all these days, Sophie hated sleeping alone. She missed the pleasant weight of Keefe's arm around her waist, of his hands finding her even unconsciously. She missed his sleepy voice in the morning and his heavy eyelids, his unwillingness to let her get out of bed. She missed cuddling and pillow fights and kissing him hard after an argument.
She missed his smile most of all. Or, more specifically, how happy she made him.
It still baffled her that she was married to New York's biggest crush. Regardless of who they were, no one could deny how effortlessly gorgeous Keefe Foster was.
Sophie smiled to herself, still mulling over her thoughts as she curled into a fetal position. The bed still smelled like him. His cologne, mostly, and a hint of his aftershave.
"I miss you," Sophie grumbled, shifting her eyes to look at the photo of Keefe on her nightstand. "I miss you, you big jerk."
"Hey, who are you calling a jerk?"
Sophie jerked in surprise, so fast she nearly fell out of bed. The blood rushed to her head as soon as she struggled to detangle herself from the bedsheets.
"Is that you?" Her voice was a whimper of excitement and surprise.
Familiar hands caught her by the waist and helped her up. "Who else would be in your bedroom?"
"No one," she promised, blushing. Sophie lifted her eyes up to his height — quite a feat, considering how ridiculously tall he was — and smiled. He was home early. And so handsome in his snug white shirt and dress pants.
"Sure you aren't hiding any boys in here?" Keefe smirked, but it was playful; he knew she'd never in a million lifetimes cheat on him.
"Only a few," she teased, slipping her arms around his waist. "Just don't look in the closet."
He laughed lowly into her neck, and goosebumps erupted along her spine when he murmured, "I missed my girl," into her lips.
"I missed you."
"Yeah?" He kissed her again.
"Yeah." Sophie felt her heartbeat calm from its earlier panic, and almost started to cry in relief. "Why are you home early?"
His eyes saddened at her oblivion. "It's our anniversary, love. You didn't really think I'd leave you alone, did you?"
"But you have a photoshoot tomorrow," she mumbled.
He grinned. "They'll live without me."
"They can't do anything without you!"
"Relax, Foster. I know you want me all to yourself."
Sophie took his face in her hands, both admiring his beauty and cursing how much he could put on the line to love her like this. "You could lose your job."
"I'm too hot for them to fire. And even if they did, it would be worth it."
Sophie's fingers traced along his jaw. She couldn't believe he'd come home for her. Sure, spending their anniversary alone didn't sound fun, but she wouldn't have blamed him. She knew how important his shoots were.
"Keefe." Her eyes watered.
"Seriously, Foster — relax." He walked her back toward the wall, starting to kiss her. "Everything's going to be okay."
After a minute of exchanging kisses, Sophie finally felt the color return to her cheeks. They flushed even brighter when Keefe disappeared a moment and returned with a bouquet of pastel yellow roses.
The typical color for anniversaries was red, but Keefe knew Sophie loved the yellow ones. Her eyes always darted to them before the red ones, regardless of the norm. He always teased her for it, but deep down, she knew he was sincere.
"So," Keefe said, resting his hands on her waist as Sophie hugged the flowers to her chest. "That's three years. How many do you plan to keep me around?"
"A few," she decided.
"Sure?" Keefe pressed her against the wall and kissed her hard. And Sophie got so caught up in it that the flowers slipped from her fingers. As they collided with the carpet, neither made a move to retrieve them.
"A lot," she managed between kisses. He was making her so light-headed.
A wicked grin lit the bottom half of Keefe's face, and Sophie blushed as he gently pushed her hands above her head. She supposed he was making up for everything they'd missed the past two weeks. "Final decision?" he asked.
"No." Her voice was breathy and euphoric as Keefe's lips hovered over hers. He looked ready to devour her, and she wasn't sure she would stop him. Just before he kissed her again, she whispered, "I'm keeping you forever."
