Hold On I Still Need You

-A Special Gift-

A/N: I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER. :D 

Keefe's POV:

Foster and I are here, enjoying the serenity of the hospital garden, the world around us muted by the soothing sounds of nature. A cool breeze brushes against my skin, bringing a rare moment of peace amid the usual chaos of our lives. It's just the two of us, the soft rustling of the leaves, and the easy rhythm of our breaths.

I usually can't stand silence for long, but today, I'm surprisingly content to simply be here. Normally, I'd fill the air with jokes, teasing, or some kind of playful banter, but today I just... sit. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I'm more at ease than I've been in a long time, or maybe it's because being with Foster like this—without the usual chaos—is exactly what I need.

Her quiet presence beside me is a comfort, like a steady anchor in the midst of everything. I catch myself glancing at her, the way the afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting a soft golden glow that makes everything feel still, timeless. I feel a warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with the sun.

We talk—mostly about nothing important, just reminiscing about the past, laughing at inside jokes only we would get. But beneath all that lightness, there's something else. A shift. An understanding neither of us needs to voice aloud. My heart races, and I wonder if she feels it too. It's a mix of excitement and hesitation, like standing at the edge of something new but not knowing what's waiting on the other side.

I'm not sure where this goes. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with these feelings. But right now, at this moment, I don't need to know. All I need is this—this quiet, this connection, this shared space between us.

I've been thinking about this for a while now—about how I can show Foster just how much she means to me. I don't think words are enough anymore. No matter how often I tell her she's important to me, I don't think she truly gets it. And I want her to. I need her to.

It's funny, I've never been great at these kinds of things. Gifts, gestures, they're not exactly my strong suit. But this... this is different. It's not just any gift. It's something personal. Something that speaks for me when I can't find the right words.

Over the past little bit I've been having a locket made especially for her. It's simple, but that's the point. It's not about flashy, over-the-top displays. It's about the thought behind it. Inside, I've had a picture of us placed—just one of those rare moments where we've both managed to smile despite everything else. I want her to hold it, feel it, and know that it's not just a piece of jewelry; it's a reminder of everything we've been through together.

I've been watching it come together, piece by piece, carefully crafting it in secret. Every step has been me thinking about her, about us—about the quiet moments, the laughter, the shared glances that say so much more than anything we've ever said aloud.

This locket, it's a symbol. A symbol of the bond we've built despite all the obstacles, all the messes we've waded through. It's not just for now. It's for the future, too. I want Foster to always have something to remind her of her strength, of how much she's accomplished, and how much we have yet to face together. It's a promise I can give her, one that'll stay with her no matter where life takes us.

I just hope she understands.

Sophie's POV:

Lately, I've been doing a lot of thinking, allowing my mind to wander during those peaceful moments when the world slows down enough for me to catch my breath. One thing that keeps coming back to me is a dream I've always had but never thought I'd actually get to experience—a kiss. Not just any kiss, but one shared with someone I genuinely care about. Someone who truly knows me, not just my struggles or the challenges I've faced, but the real me—the part of me that sometimes gets overshadowed by everything else.