Anytime Foster I'm Always Here

-Everyday Without You-

A/N: "Me Without You" By Havelin

*5 Years Of Keefe's Departure Date*

Sophie's POV:

\"Me without you, is like driving without the headlights. Me without you is like waking up without sunrise. Never thought I could feel the way I do. But I'm just not me without you."

I'm just not me without you Keefe.

Five years ago, he left—for London's private school, for parents who saw him as an utter disappointment. It was one of the worst moments of my life. The other? Losing my family. That pain should have been unbearable, but he was there, right by my side.

He was my anchor in the storm, the steady presence that kept me from drowning.

I still remember what he told me, words etched into my heart.

"Anytime, Foster. I'm always here. For you."

I wrote it down and kept it in my locker, reading it every time I opened it, clinging to the promise even after life tore him away from me.

But he's not here anymore.

He never left my side—until he did.

Everything changed that day.

-Flashback: The day he left-

Sophie's POV:

He's gone.

By now, he's somewhere on a plane, heading toward London and the life waiting for him there. A life without me.

I don't even know how many tears I've shed—probably too many to count. And yet, they keep coming, relentless and unending, proof that I am unraveling from the inside out.

My best friend—always. To the very end.

I miss him.

I miss the way his crooked smirk made my chest feel lighter, even when I rolled my eyes at it. I miss the way his ice-blue eyes settled me, like they carried secrets of comfort only meant for me. I miss his messy blond hair—his awesomest feature, as he proudly claimed, the reason he dubbed himself Lord Hunkyhair. I miss his reckless charm, his teasing, his jokes. I miss the way he could read me, sometimes better than I could read myself.

And his voice—his voice. I would listen to it forever if I could. The way it was always laced with a hint of mischief, always ready to challenge or tease, but somehow—somehow—it softened when he spoke to me.

And his laugh—the unrestrained kind, the one that echoed through the halls after he pulled off some ridiculous prank.

And his real smile. Not the smirk, not the playful grin—but the smile. The one he only ever let slip when he was with me.

Everything feels different now. Hollow.

I don't know how to move on.

Maybe I never will.

Keefe's POV:

The plane hums beneath me, but I barely notice.

All I feel is ache. And longing.

Everything fell apart the moment I was forced to leave her behind.

I need Foster. She made my disaster of a life feel like something good—something worth living.

My parents could have left me behind, but of course they didn't. They dragged their disappointment of a son across the ocean, expecting me to fall in line, thinking I wouldn't understand what they really thought of me.