Sokeefe AU

Part Eleven

Sophie woke up on the couch.

For a moment, she wasn't sure what had happened. She sat there, disorientated, blinking her tired eyes every few seconds. Then the night came rushing back to her.

She had woken up about an hour after she had fallen asleep, panting and sweating and shivering. She was gasping, her mind swirling from the nightmare she had woken up from, her heart pounding and her palms sweating.

She had crawled out of bed, hand pressed to her chest. She made her way downstairs, into to the kitchen, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

She was nauseous, but she forced herself to try to make some hot chocolate. The familiar movements of heating up the milk, dumping in the chocolate, and stirring it slowly had put her out of her state of panic.

When she had heard Keefe, she knew she probably shouldn't interfere. But he looked so lost, so terrified, that she couldn't help herself.

Which explained why she had woken up on the couch, Keefe next to her, and the TV flashing the Are you still watching? message.

She shifted, a little, trying not to wake up Keefe. He was slumped over her, his head resting on her shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. Her cheeks warmed. He seemed to be out of. The day before must have worn his body out so much that once he finally found sleep, it seduced him like a warm summer day, like a heavy blanket pulled over a sleeping child. His hair was hanging over his eyes, tickling her. She reached up and swept her hand across her shoulder, moving them gently.

She yawned. The sun was already up, and she knew Grady and Edaline would be down soon, chatting and making breakfast and starting the day. But she was still tired, and even if she wasn't, there was no way she would risk waking moving and up Keefe after the type of day he had yesterday.

So she settled back down, ignoring the fast pace of her heart as he shifted a little closer in his sleep. She felt terrifyingly uncomfortable, but a small, tiny part of her tingled.

She shut her eyes, and it felt like only a minute had passed when she opened them again.

Keefe was still asleep, but his eyes were twitching, like he was about to wake up. The sun was a little higher in the sky. The TV had turned off.

Keefe let out a tiny huff of warm breath. Sophie shivered as the blast hit her, and her stomach squirmed with what felt like tiny insects. Her cheeks warmed.

She rolled her eyes and sat there for a while. She wanted to get up and eat, or go to the bathroom, or get ready, or something, but she couldn't bring herself to move. She didn't want to wake Keefe up any sooner than she had to.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, he stirred. He leaned off her and yawned, sleepily. His eyes fluttered open and closed again.

Sophie stifled a laugh. He looked so adorable in that moment, she couldn't help it.

Her heart stalled. She liked Fitz. Fitz was adorable.

Or, he was. Until he stood her up.

She shoved the thought from her mind. The laugh died in her throat.

"'Morning," Keefe mumbled. He sat cross legged, his hair mussed from sleep, his eyes dull with drowsiness.

"Good morning," Sophie replied, smoothly. She felt herself smirk as she added, "Sleep well?"

He shrugged, tiredly, his shoulders drooping again when he was done. His cheeks heated, a little, and he sounded sad when he said, "Yeah, I guess."

Sophie's heart ached for him, suddenly, for a moment, as his father's face popped into her mind. She remembered when her parents had died, the way she had cried and begged and screamed for it to have all been a dream. She wondered if that's what Keefe felt like. Like his heart had been ripped into two pieces. Like it wasn't just his parents that had split apart, it was him, too.