I Love You More Sokeefe Oneshots

-Meaning of Keefe's Journals-

One-Shot Requested By: @LilyWhite1305 Thanks for requesting. :D 

Sophie's POV:

I stepped into Keefe's room; curiosity piqued by the mysterious aura that always surrounded him. My eyes were drawn to a stack of journals on his desk, each one holding a piece of his untold story. Unable to resist, I reached out and picked up the brown one, feeling the weight of Keefe's secrets in my hands.

Opening the journal, I was transported into Keefe's world, a world of laughter and mischief, a stark contrast to the darkness that often shadowed our lives. The pages were filled with tales of his happy memories, like The Great Gulon Incident, where he outsmarted the creature with a clever prank, or the time he and Fitz engaged in a fierce game of tackle bramble, their laughter echoing through the air.

But what caught my attention the most were the entries about the Vackers, moments captured in time where Keefe found solace in their company, gazing into the flames of an aurenflare, the warm glow reflecting in his eyes. It was evident that those memories held a special place in his heart, a safe haven amidst the chaos that defined our world.

As I read on, I couldn't help but notice a recurring absence in those happy memories - Keefe's mother. A pang of sadness resonated within me as I realized the significance of her absence in the moments that meant the most to him. Keefe had always carried a facade of carefree charm, but his journals revealed the depths of his pain, the weight of his unspoken emotions.

I closed the brown journal, my heart heavy with the weight of Keefe's truths. His vulnerability shone through the inked words, a stark reminder that beneath the witty remarks and mischievous grins, he carried a burden that few could understand. I felt a sense of kinship with him, a shared understanding of the masks we wore to conceal our inner turmoil.

With a shaky breath, I turned to the next journal, its cover a vibrant shade of green. Keefe's handwriting greeted me, the words inked with a rawness that mirrored the emotions within. This was where he kept the "hard stuff," the memories that threatened to overwhelm him.

As I delved deeper, my heart went out to Keefe as I encountered snippets of his struggles and fears. But amidst the turmoil, one memory stood out like a beacon in the storm—Fitz and my Cognate training. The intensity of those moments reverberated off the pages, a testament to the unspoken bond that had formed between us.

A rush of emotions welled up inside me, memories of shared glances and whispered conversations flooding back. I was a part of Keefe's world, entwined with his story in ways I never fully comprehended until now. The weight of his trust settled on my shoulders like a heavy cloak, a reminder of the fragile threads that bound us together.

With a deep breath, I turned to the silver journal. The weight of it felt heavier in my hands, as if it held secrets that were meant to be kept hidden. Flipping through the pages, I came across a name that sent a shiver down my spine – Ethan Benedict Wright. The memory tied to his name was cryptic, filled with emotions that I couldn't quite decipher. It was clear that Ethan held a significant place in Keefe's life, a place that was etched in silver and darkness.

But it is the final journal, gleaming in regal gold, that captures my trembling breath. Within its confines lies a world painted with reverence and devotion—a world where I am the sole sovereign. Splashes of gold ink sketch my every feature with tender care, mapping out the strands of my blonde hair, the depths of my brown eyes speckled with golden flecks. Love notes, like whispers of a shy lover, spill across the pages, their confessions echoing through the silence of the room.

And then, like a veil lifting in a gentle breeze, the realization sweeps over me like a tide rushing to shore—I am the subject of his affection. Every stroke of the pen, every sketch, every tender word—all declarations of a love that bloomed in the shadows of secrecy, now exposed under the stark illumination of this moment.

Emotions swirl within me like a maelstrom—confusion, disbelief, a fluttering hope taking flight against the confines of my heart. Keefe, the ever-elusive trickster, the jester with a hidden sorrow, now stands before me in a vulnerability so rare, so raw, that it tugs at the strings of empathy within my own soul.

It was then that it hit me like a bolt of lightning - Keefe was in love with me. The realization sent a rush of emotions through me, a mix of surprise, joy, and a tinge of apprehension. I had never imagined that Keefe, the charismatic mischief-maker, could harbor such deep feelings for me.

As I placed the journals back on Keefe's desk, my mind raced with thoughts. Should I confront him about what I had discovered? Should I pretend that I had never stumbled upon his most intimate thoughts? The weight of this newfound knowledge settled over me, and I knew that things between us would never be the same again.

Suddenly the door creaked open, and Keefe stood before me in all his enigmatic glory. There was a mix of surprise and vulnerability in his eyes as he took in the scene before him—the gold journal cradled in my hands, its contents a reflection of his deepest desires and unspoken truths.

"Foster," he said, his eyes searching mine with a depth that stirred something within me. Without a word, I rose from the bed, my heart pounding in my chest as I closed the distance between us. And in that moment, with nothing but raw emotions between us, I pressed my lips to his, a rush of feelings overwhelming me.

The kiss was a revelation, a silent confession of everything left unspoken. As we pulled away, our breaths mingling in the air, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. And it was then that I whispered the words that had been dancing on the tip of my tongue.

"I love you, Keefe," I said, my voice soft but sure. And in his eyes, I saw a reflection of my own feelings mirrored back at me.

"I love you too Foster." he whispers lovingly as he pulls me into his arms. Embracing a new beginning for our love.  

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