Set the Truth Ablaze: KotLC Oneshots

Keefoster (again)

I know, I know, I so good at getting to your requests instead of doing Keefoster again and again and again and again and — anyways. This was a request from the one and only ghostly_feline, so . . . . here it is! Go follow her, she's awesome and amazing and her stories are EPIC. Anddddd, just a reminder that you entered the world of cringe-worthy oneshots like AGES ago, so you're stuck with me now ;). (Also, please, please, please, please comment! I love your comments, even if it may seem like I don't read them)

"How can I help you?" Sophie said as a handsome young man approached the counter, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. His ice-blue eyes were bright, a teasing glint flickering behind them, and his blond hair was artfully tousled. He had an annoyingly perfect, chiseled jaw, but Sophie found herself staring mostly at his gaze, the warmth behind the cold color. He was ridiculously handsome, and he knew it, but there was something more to it. Something a lot deeper, and much sweeter.

She smiled politely. "I've seen you here before, haven't I?"

Yeah, she had. But she'd never taken his order before. Maybe someone else did. She didn't work full shifts, though, so maybe she didn't know him as well as she could've.

The young man laughed sheepishly. "I'm, uh, a vegetarian actually. And most of the vegetarian options aren't exactly . . . appealing to me."

"Oh. Well, McDonalds is a . . . great place to hang out, of course," Sophie lied, glancing around awkwardly at the place. Her workplace was cramped, overcrowded with kids, and the floor was littered with food as a result (poor Jamie's shift practically never ended).

He laughed. "No, not really."

When neither of them spoke for a brief moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, Sophie mumbled, "So . . . no order? Excuse me, but I've got a few other customers to attend to, if you don't mind, sir."

He barely seemed fazed by her words as he held out his hand over the counter. "Keefe Sencen."

Sophie shook his hand. "Sophie Foster."

"I can't really get much from your menu," said Keefe, a handsome smirk gracing his soft lips, "but, if you wouldn't mind, I could do with a smile."

Sophie stared at him mid-handshake. It took her a moment to understand his words, and another moment to realize she was basically holding his hand, but by then, her words had already spilled out of her mouth. "I'm sorry, we don't sell those here."

Keefe grinned, sparking her heart into such a quick pace, it reminded her of a hummingbird. "I'd give you everything I've got, but you already have my heart."

Her mouth drifted open, but she couldn't seem to tone down her astonishment enough to close it. It was clear he was flirting with her, and she shouldn't have let it matter to her. But he was good at flirting. Since when were people actually good at flirting? If her own skills — or lack thereof — told her anything, it was that anyone her age couldn't flirt. And yet, here Keefe was, proving her wrong.

Sophie blinked. "Um. Sir, this is a McDonalds."

Keefe laughed again — but he didn't seem to know what it was doing to her. "Right. And you have customers — that aren't nearly as hot as me, if I do say so myself. But, as it turns out, I think you can help me with something. Would you say you're any good with love advice?"

Sophie shrugged. She wanted to tell him the truth, which was a simple, direct, 'Absolutely not,' but she didn't want him to leave. He made her heart flutter like an overexcited flying alicorn with sparkly droppings, and she couldn't understand why.