Random Sokeefe Oneshots

Real Slumber Party

"Keefe?" Sophie whispers, walking into the darkness and shutting the door behind her. She can hear the rustling of sheets, but the only light source is coming from the window, that is currently blocked completely by thick curtains. Sophie repeats his name again, a little louder this time. The lamp switches on, making her blink multiple times to adjust to the light. 

 Keefe's voice is strained and low, "Foster, go eat dinner with everyone else. You don't have to waste your time on me, because I am-"

"Don't even try to say you're fine, Keefe Sencen." Sophie snaps before he can say those exact words. She takes a second to study him in the light. Tear stains staining his cheeks. Tired eyes and eyebags. Crumpled shirt and disheveled hair. Sounds about right, for a boy who just got the news his mother might be dead. 

Keefe tries to smile, but it comes out pained. "Feisty Foster. I'm warming up to the nickname, don't you think? If you want, I can abbreviate it to FF. We can be those cool people in the movies who have the weirdest names to call each other that like no one understands!" 

Sophie knows he's trying to lighten the mood, but she didn't sneak to his room just for a light mood. She wants him to tell her how he really feels, and she wants to make him feel better. 

"Keefe, you..." Sophie isn't sure what to start with so she goes with how he's skipped the past 3 dinners. "You need to eat something. I brought a plate of Calla's soup." She holds up the plate, and she doesn't miss the way Keefe's eyes snag on it. He must be killing himself up here. 

Sophie expects him to turn away and say something about how he really is fine, but instead he ducks his head and says, "Thanks for caring, Foster." 

She thinks of how Gisela and Cassius never cared. She wonders if that's what he's thinking about too. "I have always cared about you, Keefe. And I always will." Sophie whispers softly, placing the bowl in his lap and watching him take a bite. She takes a seat beside him on the cushiony bed, dipping the mattress beneath her. 

"How's everything going?" Sophie asks. 

Keefe takes a sharp breath, "I can feel all the pity waves coming off of you. It's not a very welcoming feeling, I've got to say." 

"Just tell me how everything is going." 

"Everything is fine, Foster. She is- was-" He chokes. "She was a Neverseen member. She didn't love or care about me, and why should I care about her?" Keefe isn't eating anymore, and his head is turned away from her. 

"She is-"

Sophie can feel his hand clench into a fist on the sheets beside her, "Was. Don't talk about her like she's still here." His voice cracks at the end, making Sophie's heart skip a beat. She hates how much pain he is in, and he has to learn to accept it. Because Gisela could be dead. 

"No, Keefe. We don't know any facts-"

"Foster, I am going to stop you right there. She was dragged into a bloody cave by ogres, who, by the way, do not have the best track record for mercy. There was no body, but enough blood to know she probably died of blood loss if they didn't finish her off already." Sophie reaches for his hand, and he doesn't pull away. Their fingers lace together. 

"Just... Just tell me how to help. Please, Keefe." 

Keefe sighs, but she can tell there is tears running down his cheeks. 

"I know she was a horrible parent. She let my dad be horrible. So why do I care? Why do I care s-so much?" He's sobbing now, pulling his knees to his chest. He places his forehead on his knees, and just cries. Really cries.