Sophie 2.0 - Keefe x Reader

Plans and Penalties

"You're sure this will work?" Sophie asked nervously.

"Honestly? No. But it will give us time to think of something that will."

"I don't like the idea of putting you in danger," she admitted.

You smiled softly. "You're the moonlark. They need you."

Sophie squeezed your hands and hugged you. "I'll have to give you the rest of the memories now. Are you ready?"

You nodded, and a moment later memories poured into your brain like a waterfall. Or, more accurately, a hurricane. It didn't exactly hurt, but the effect was dizzying and made your head fuzzy. You stood as still as you could.

Was it over yet? 

You could still feel memories streaming in.

"—/N?"

You opened your eyes, but you couldn't see anything. Everything was fuzzy and gray.

"Y/N!"

You blinked and shook your head, now able to feel the hand on your shoulder.

"Keefe . . . ?" 

He was bent slightly at the waist to meet your eyes, face laced with worry. He smiled a little when you focused on him.

"There you are. All good?"

You nodded, dazed, and took a step back. Dizzy, you put a hand to your head.

"Keefe, stay with her, okay? Just—make sure she's okay." Sophie looked anxious to be staying behind.

"I will," he said. "I promise." He turned to Mr. Forkle. "Make sure nothing happens to her until Sandor gets here." Mr. Forkle nodded.

Keefe raised a crystal to the dying sunlight. Casting one last look to Sophie, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into the crystal's beam. 

~~~~

"Where are we?"

Waves lapped gently at pale sand. A menacing tower rose hundreds of feet into the air, looming ominously. 

"This . . . ." He sighed. "Is my home. Unfortunately."

"Home . . . ." You gazed up at the unwelcoming fortress that spoke only of doom. "Really?"

"Yeah. Come on, before my dad shows up." He took your wrist in his hand and pulled you inside. "I figured this would probably be best—for a lot of reasons. I mean, Havenfield is busy right now and Grady and Edaline don't know anything yet, so until we get the potions you can stay here. It'll probably be just for the night, though—"

"Keefe." An austere voice rang out, cutting off Keefe's rambling. He froze, hand stiff around your wrist. You turned slowly to see a tall man standing near the door. His hair and eyes were similar to Keefe's in color only; by all other means they were oily and rigid.

"Dad," Keefe forced out. 

"Who's this?" The man—Keefe's father—stepped forward. Keefe stepped in front of you, holding your wrist tightly.

"My, uh, friend."

You peeked around Keefe's shoulder to see his father raise an eyebrow. 

"Your friend?"

Keefe nodded.

"I can feel her emotions from here. Why is she so nervous?"

"Probably because you're being all interrogate-y, dad! That makes people nervous!"

"And I assume she's flustered because she thinks I'm pretty?" he said flatly. "Tell me the truth. Is she your girlfriend?"

"What!? Dad, no! Stop being gross! Ugh! We're leaving now." He turned you around and pushed you to a staircase. "Hold on," he muttered, grabbing your waist again. You felt your cheeks heat up, and you had to shake your head to forget what his father had said. Sophie's memories were barely holding back, threatening to spill at any moment and overtake you. Candleshade. Lord Cassius. Keefe is pretty. What?

"You ok?" Concerned blue eyes gazed into your own, eyelashes fluttering. 

"Y-yeah—sorry—"

"This is gonna go fast, okay? I won't let you fall."

"Oka—"

Keefe called something, but the rush of wind in your ears blocked it out as the staircase below you spun and whisked you higher and higher. Your shriek was lost in the rush, but you could hear Keefe laughing.

The staircase slammed to a halt and you stumbled forward. Keefe caught you around the waist so you didn't fall on your face.

"What—what was that—" 

"That," he chuckled, "was a vortinator." 

"I hated it."

"Most people do." His smile faded as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're okay though, right? With all the dizziness and stuff?"

You nodded and pulled back. 

"Yeah. I'm good."

"Alright." He waved for you to follow him and led you to a massive three-story room. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, sending sparkles off the crystal walls. "I figured we could have a sleepover-type thing, unless you'd rather have a guest room."

"I think I'd feel safer staying with you. No offense to your dad, but I'm scared he might try to interrogate me the second you leave me." You smiled a little, nervously. 

He smiled back, and your spirits lifted.

"I wouldn't be surprised," he joked. At least, you thought it was a joke. "I'll get some blankets and stuff and we can set up on the floor. Oh! And snacks. We never did get to eat that dinner." He winked and slipped out the door.

In the bright, shimmering room, you felt very small and dull. You sat on the edge of the bed and waited. Eventually he came back.

"So I was thinking maybe . . . blanket fort?" he held up two pillows, both of which were much too fine to be used for a fort.

You smiled.

"Sounds good to me."

Amidst your huddle of blankets and pillows, the two of you talked and ate mallowmelt, hidden from the horrors that waited for you in the morning. No matter what had happened or what would happen, in this moment you were safe. Nothing could breach the walls you had built until you took them down. 

"Goodnight, Keefe."

"Goodnight, Y/N."