perfect sokeefe

confess-

Keefe and Sophie walked from school, their feet tapping the pavement in unison. They were both laughing about the paintball match that had taken place between Fitz and Keefe. Sophie bit her lip to stop the overflowing giggles, but one look at Keefe with her pressed lips was enough to trigger another fit.

Sophie took a deep breath to regain her composure as she turned to Keefe to tell her own tale. Much to her demise, her footing failed her, and she would've hit the cement if Keefe hadn't sidestepped and caught her.

This was the regular schedule, but that didn't stop him from adding, "Finally falling for me, Foster?"

Sophie blushed, standing up and dusting herself off. "If I ever did, you would've tripped me." 

Keefe scowled at her satisfied expression. Ignoring it, she continued walking, letting him trail behind. Despite his arrogance, he still caught her hand as they walked side-by-side to their neighboring houses. The sidewalk was quiet, a stark contrast to their conversation, which was full of theatrics and emotion. 

Team Foster-Keefe, as Keefe had dubbed them, had a unique way of telling stories. Sophie modified each line with her vast knowledge of word, and Keefe infused them with his tasteful flourishes. The duo had always contemplated writing a book together. 

Their storytelling was cut short when they reached Sophie's house. Keefe's was right across from hers. But before she could wave goodbye, Keefe reached for her hand. "Foster... today was fun."

She cocked her head in confusion. "We do this every day, Keefe, and it's always a blast." Her words carried a specific enthusiasm, but then she noticed the hesitance in his eyes. "You want to ask me something?"

He inclined his head to he side, then his nose wrinkled, as if the thought disgusted him. "It's fine, I can do it tomorrow." 

"No, I insist." Sophie took his hands, cradling his palm. "It seems important."

Keefe's knees shook with anxiousness, but that wasn't possible. Despite the many years she knew him, she had neverseen him nervous, and there was something remotely wrong about it that made her even more invested in his words. Keefe took a deep breath, quietly muttering a handful of words. And if the hushed mumble wasn't enough, it was also drowned out by the rumble of an engine. 

Sophie fought a frown when Edaline parked in the garage. She faced Keefe, who fidgeted with his hands in spontaneous relief. 

"Could you repeat that?" she asked.

Keefe's face twisted with annoyance, but he feigned pity the next second. "It's alright, I can tell you tomorrow at school." He pointed to the car. "Edaline probably went on a shopping spree. She might need your help."

"I'll help her, but—" Keefe scurried away before she could complete her sentence.

As for Sophie's query, Keefe never answered it. Whether it was a random day in the school year, or Valentine's Day, he waved it off as trivial until she too, had done the same. It wasn't until she laid beside Keefe's grave, tucked into the woods, when the question lit a burning fire until there was no more kindling left.