after unlocked: a sokeefe fanfic

Chapter 43-Sophie

Sophie loved being able to sleep.

She never got sleep.

So being able to sleep?

The best present ever.

That is, unless she was betrayed by the boy she liked, thrown into a cold dusty cell, and forced to stay alive on just oxygen.

Still, she should have been rejoicing in the fact that her eyes closed, and she didn't see a looming eye.

But she saw his face.

And despite her fury, she was worried for him. What he had gotten himself into—again.

Despite the freezing conditions of the cell, and the thought of Keefe being somewhere warm and well fed in the caverns—that definitely made her blood boil—she drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming of the ice blue eyes. Of the cocky smirk. Of the guilty expression.

By the time it was almost dawn, she'd probably had about seven hours of sleep.

In the darkness, she glared at the bars of her cell, glared at the dim shape of the guard standing outside her cell, and glared at the space where Keefe should've been—next to her, both of them planning on how to escape.

She waited, like the past three day, for the cell doors to clank and creak and groan and open with a slam.

Typically, in the fashion of the routine of the last three days, the guard would step in, she would make a rude gesture at him, he would grin, she would wrinkle her nose, and then he'd drop a small flask of water by the door.

That eight ounces of water was supposed to last her a full day.

After that, she drink about an ounce of it and go back to the corner of the wall she was working on.

The first time she'd attempted to chip at the wall, he'd laughed at her.

She gave him two rude gestures that day.

Sophie frowned and stood. She walked the three and a half feet to the door and grasped the bars. "Where's my water?"

The guard looked at her through the doors, smirked, and started walking away.

Sophie gaped at him. "Hey!" He glanced over his shoulder and promptly ignored her.

"Whatever!" She yelled at his back. "But it'll be your fault when I escape!"

Sophie gave him the rude gesture, feeling insulted that they didn't think she needed a guard.

Come to think of it, the guard hadn't even been armed.

She muttered to herself, mocking the guard's stupid voice.

Well, what she imagined the guard's stupid voice would sound like.

She'd actually never heard it beside his laugh.

Sophie went back to 'her' wall, meaning the one that had a tiny pile of dust sitting underneath it.

Pile, meaning a thin layer, a veneer, probably less then a centimeter of dust—her three days progress.

She snorted in frustration. Movies made it always seem like escaping was a lot easier.

She was discovering that the walls were a lot harder than they looked—especially when all she had to chip away with it was a rock that seemed to get smaller with each scrape.

The door groaned, and Sophie sat back on her heels, wiping her forehead. "Took you long enough. You do know I can't survive very long without water?"