Twirling-SoKeefe

Prize

Sophie had heard stories and rumors about the parties Grady and Edaline had thrown before their daughter, Jolie, had died. But nothing could have prepared her for this.

Hundreds of glimmering, teardrop shaped lights had been hung from the ceiling, casting sparkles on everything. Delicate vines and blooms were draped over the banister, and all of the furniture had been removed. Without it, Havenfield's first floor looked so much bigger. Tables piled with plates of delicious looking desserts, with everything from warm, gooey mallowmelt to mugs of steaming cinnacreme edged the room. Soft music was playing, but it was different from any song Sophie had heard before. Elvin music focused more on natural sounds, and if she listened closely, she could identify the gentle sounds of rain arranged so that each drop had a note, like a ten thousand piece symphony. The crystal walls were glowing softly, just enough to give Sophie an idea of how many elves were gathered in the hall. 

A lot. 

Like, a lot a lot. 

Everywhere she looked, there were gem encrusted tunics, sweeping gowns, intricate up-dos, fancy shoes, and glittering capes. Sophie suddenly felt very small and insignificant. She wanted to run screaming up the stairs and bury herself under her fluffy covers, where expectations were nonexistent and the sparkliest thing was Iggy's currently shimmering blue fur. But she swallowed the knot in her throat, shoving it down into the pit of her stomach, and focused on her grip on Keefe's hand and his reassuring smile. 

Edaline appeared when they made it to the base of the stairs, giving Sophie a gentle hug and conjuring up a plate of mallowmelt. 

"To calm your nerves," she said, handing it to Sophie before disappearing back into the crowd. It was Sophie's favorite elvin dessert... but the thought of eating anything made her stomach wrench tighter and a sour taste rise in her mouth. Next to her, Keefe winced, wrapping an arm around her stomach. Sophie dropped his hand like a hot stone. 

"Foster, it's fine," he tried to say, but she was already shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," she told him, putting her plate down on a nearby table and stepping further away. Sophie hated forcing her emotions on him. She would've given anything to block them somehow, so he wouldn't have to endure any of her pain. 

Keefe sighed. "Seriously, Foster. I can handle it. And distance reeeeally doesn't make a difference, so you can stop hiding in the corner like a terrified gremlin."

When Sophie didn't move, he reminded her, "We've had this conversation before, remember? Nothing you could say would change my mind. Don't feel guilty about my decisions, okay?"

Sophie crossed her arms. 

"There's really nothing we can do, anyway," Keefe pointed out, stepping towards her. "It's not like I'm ever going to stay away." His famous smirk returned as he reached up, smoothing the worried crease between her brows with his fingertip. "No need to get all crinkly."

Sophie sighed, trying to ignore the flutters in her stomach, and uncrossed her arms. "I really hate it when you're right."

"Better get used to it, Foster," he told her, snatching her plate of mallowmelt and taking a big bite. "You should know by now that I'm the real brains here." 

Sophie shoved him, and he laughed, holding the dessert over her head. She stood on tiptoe, stretching her fingers for the plate, but Keefe whisked it just out of her reach and took another huge bite. "Mmmmm... you should had taken this when you had the chance, Foster," he said, dodging her grabs. Sophie tried to glare, but her lips curved into a smile without her permission. Keefe lifted the last bite dramatically into his mouth, raising the fork triumphantly like a trophy. 

"Victory!" he called, turning a few heads.

Sophie rolled her eyes so hard it hurt, but she still couldn't stop the giggle from escaping. 

"I want a prize," he told her, setting the plate down.

"Like what?" she asked, cheeks heating when he stepped closer again.

Keefe grinned. "You have two choices. One, you can set Iggy loose in here and cause All. The. Carnage. Or option two, which I think you'll like much better."

"What's option two?" Sophie squeaked.

He kissed her.

Sophie closed her eyes, breathing him in and wrapping her arms around his neck. Keefe reached up, cupping her cheeks, framing her face with his fingers. She could taste the mallowmelt on his mouth, the sweet sugar melting on her lips. Sophie tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, the silky strands twisting around her knuckles.

Keefe pulled away, just barely, just enough for him to murmur, "Just you."

Part of Sophie-the part that was flushing red and dying to stare at the floor-wanted to smack him. But the other part-the one taken over by the gently flitting butterflies and gooey mush-was in a haze of mallowmelt and warmth and Keefe's citrusy smell, so she pulled him back him, wrapping his hair tighter around her fingers. He leaned in closer, kissing her so softly and slowly and gently that Sophie felt herself floating, up and away from everything else. She buried herself in the feeling, imagining it to be a fluffy white cloud, wrapping herself in it like a blanket. His hands moved to her waist, and the butterflies in her stomach exploded in excited flutters. 

But slowly, reality began to sink back in, slicing through her cloud barrier. Sophie kissed him one last time before pulling away, dragging her fingers through his hair. "Prize given," she told him.

Keefe flicked her nose. "Prize received," he said, looking adorably breathless, his careful blond style destroyed. He ran a hand through his hair, mostly correcting what Sophie had ruined. She gave him one of his smirks. 

"Come on," she said, tugging him along. "I want more mallowmelt."