KEEFER Of The Lost Cities

Neverseen- Torturer of Innocent Readers

aka- me. Sorry for making you guys wait so long- school is sooo hard T_T

Can't believe it took me more than two weeks for one chapter  

 :(((((

I will try my absolute hardest to stop it from happening again. And I'm sorry for not responding to comments- I didn't see them...

"Anyone else getting tired of the Black Swan bossing us around?" Keefe asked once they'd all changed into non-furry clothes and their impromptu pajama party had broken up. They'd regrouped a while later in the boys' tree house.

Keefe's gaze skipped over the people surrounding him and paused on Sophie, who had backed away from the fire as much as possible. He wasn't able to ignore the spike of fear she had felt when she saw it, and Keefe honestly didn't blame her. He'd take the girls' waterfall over their fire any day.

"I think they just want to make sure everything goes right when we rescue Prentice," Biana said from where she was standing by the window with Della, practicing her vanishing. Keefe slumped into a chair in the farthest possible corner, where maybe no one would notice him not doing any work.

"It is annoying, though," Sophie mumbled, trailing behind Fitz to a bunch of bean bag chairs shaped like boulders. Keefe had actually tripped over those and screamed because he thought they were pointy rocks and he was going to die, but then landed softly n a crumpled hump on top of them. Dex and Fitz had relentlessly teased him about it.

Keefe watched in fascination as Dex turned the once shiny, spotless floor into a mess of wires and scraps of metal. He was pretty sure he already saw grease stains on the marble floor, and Dex hadn't even started working yet. Keefe kind of admired that, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate it when he stepped on one of his sharp, tiny metal bits with his bare feet.

Della caught him not reading and shot him a prodding look that was part encouragement and part glare. Keefe sighed deeply and reached over to his pile of book,s nearly tumbling over when he saw that it was written by his father.

The Heart of the Matter, by Cassius Sencen.

Ugh, it already sounded stupid. And boring. And dumb. He remembered his father writing this. He spent weeks locked up in his room, and whenever he did come out, if Keefe got within a 10 feet radius of him, he was yelled at. "This is so stupid." he muttered. Sophie sent him an apologetic look, but then kept flipping through her telepathy worksheet book thing she was supposed to work on with Fitz. Keefe already felt her nervousness and, quite immaturely, thought that she wouldn't feel so nervous for a conversation with him.

"Should we start at the beginning?" Fitz asked, opening his own telepathy-cognate-worksheet-book thing. Keefe studied Sophie for an outward reaction that matched her slowly mounting panic, but this time Biana was the one clearing her throat and giving him a pointed look.

He looked back down at the book. 

It is not a well-known fact that there are different forms of empathy. While most empaths naively assume that feelings are feelings no matter the circumstance, the research that I conducted proves otherwise. Emotions stem from two places- one's heart, and one's mind. Though they are quite closely related and rely on each other, they are ultimately two entirely different sources of feelings.

"Is it okay if I enter your mind?" Fitz asked, interrupting his reading and giving Keefe an excuse to look up.

"Dude, do you realize how creepy that sounds?" Keefe broke in before Sophie could answer.

"It's less creepy than reading her feelings all the time without telling her," Fitz argued, which didn't sound like that much of an argument, considering...