fifty sokeefe kisses

(34) letter

Dear Sophie,

Mrs. Stinkbottom misses you horribly.

Love, Keefe.

Sophie folded up the note with a smile. Short and sweet—not that he had much of a choice. Delivering physical messages to Black Swan hideouts in the Forbidden Cities was risky enough, so letters were limited to a strict word limit with minimal information.

Across the room, lounging on the couch, Tam snorted. "How many times are you going to reread that thing?"

Sophie scoffed. "I am not rereading anything," she insisted, ignoring the way her cheeks warmed. 

She went back to staring out the window intently. It was a fairly normal view—cars and people pass by each other on the street. Birds fly by the window. An ambulance siren sounded faintly in the distance.

They had been holed up in one of the Black Swan's empty apartments in a human city for a few days now. It was comfortable enough, but if Sophie had to spend one more day listening to the sound of Tam breathing, she was going to lose it.

She wished Keefe were here. He would always find some way to keep things lighthearted and fun, but Mr. Forkle felt it was less "distracting" to pair her with someone else (anyone else) instead. She didn't disagree with him, but it still sucked.

"I may not have weirdo mind-reading powers, but it wasn't hard to guess," Tam continued. "All you talk about is Keefe, my boyfriend Keefe, my boyfriend—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Sophie groaned, plugging her ears in embarrassment. It was bad enough with her parents hanging onto her every mention of Keefe and constantly inviting him to dinner. It was somehow ten times more embarrassing hearing it from Tam. It was Tam, for crying out loud.

"You know, today is Wednesday. Mr. Forkle's going to be checking in."

"Yeah, that's true," Sophie replied. She watched cars go by and absentmindedly played with the corner of Keefe's note in her pocket.

"So, aren't you going to send anything back with him?"

She blinked. Tam was right; Mr. Forkle was supposed to come by with new supplies today. He wasn't bringing any messages—that was the dwarves' job—but maybe he would deliver a letter for her.

"Tam, you're a genius," Sophie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Can you take over watch for me? Please? So I can write something?"

Tam pretended to grumble about it for a moment. "I guess so. If the Neverseen are really targeting one of the families in the next building, they're taking their sweet time getting around to it."

They swapped positions; Tam leaned against the wall to look out the window, and Sophie took the couch. She reached eagerly for the pen and paper on the coffee table, then stopped short.

He noticed her confusion. "What's wrong?"

She glanced up at him anxiously. "What should I write?"

Tam paused. He closed his eyes. "You've spent the last three days talking about him and rereading his note, and now you don't know what to write to him?"

"We're limited to ten words or less. I have to choose them carefully." Sophie tapped the pen on the table, trying come up with something. She could write a hundred words to Keefe, easy. But just ten?

"What about, 'You smell bad. Take a shower please.'"

"Funny."

Tam shrugged. "It fits the word limit."

Sophie mulled over it for another moment, then quickly wrote something down. She could feel Tam pretending not to watch what she was writing. "There. Perfect."

She raised the paper to her lips and kissed it before folding and sealing it closed. Tam wrinkled his nose but didn't say anything.

Dear Keefe,

Tell her I'll be home soon.

Love, Sophie.