Keefe's Whereabouts

11

Right when they left, Keefe walked upstairs, without saying a word. I can't imagine how he feels. He must be shocked, I would be too if I just figured out after 20 sum years that I had an older brother. I don't know what to do. I fiddle with my fingers as I sit on the couch, trying to think of what to say or do. First, I should try to get a hold of someone. Mr. Forkle is probably in recovery right now. I sigh as I realize I have one other person I can contact that's strong enough to receive my signal.

'FITZ!' I transmit. 'FITZ, ITS SOPHIE!'

'SOPHIE! You're alive?' I hear his crisp voice in my head.

'Yes, Keefe and I are alive. Is everyone okay?' I ask.

'Yes, everyone is safe. Mr. Forkle is recovering right now but Elwin says he is recovering fast' Fitz transmits and I sigh in relief. It looks like those guys weren't lying. 'Where are you guys?' he asks us.

Should I tell him? If what they are saying is true, then Fitz will be in danger of knowing our location. 'I don't know,' I lie. 'But we are safe. I will update you more later when I find out more information.'

'Wait, Sophie,' he says. 'I just want to say, I'm so sorry.'

I can feel the genuineness in his thoughts. It causes me to let out a sad smile. 'Me, too. We'll talk more when I get back.'

I break off the connection and lean back on the couch. I'm tired. Really tired. And my head hurts. But I want to talk to Keefe. I stand up and start walking up the stairs slowly. What should I say? What should I do? What if he doesn't want to talk. I notice two rooms, one door open and the other closed. I knock softly on the closed door.

"Keefe," I say barely above a whisper.

No reply. I knock again. Still no reply. I reach for the doorknob and notice it's not locked. I take that as my sign to go in. I open the door and take in the room. It has the essentials and I notice Keefe sitting on the bench that's right by the window. He looks out, not even noticing my presence at first.

"Hey Keefe," I say knocking him out of my thoughts.

"Foster," he gives me a small smile as I walk over and sit across from him on the small bench.

Our legs brush against eachother as I sit down, sending tingles down my spine, but I ignore the feeling. I can't get distracted.

"Wanna talk about it?" I ask him.

He thinks about it for a second then shakes his head. I nod my head in understanding, but I can't help but feel sad. He probably doesn't want to talk to me after that night. Maybe he doesn't trust me. But I have to be okay with that, I can't force him to like me or trust me. I get up, biting my lip to stop the tears. I start to walk away but I feel him grab my arm.

"I didn't say I wanted you to go, though," he says looking up at me with those beautiful ice blue eyes.

The warmness in my heart makes my eyes water. He's too nice to me. I sit back down.

"What's wrong Foster?" he say softly, running his hand down my arm to hold it.

"Nothing's wrong," I say. "I came to check if you were okay."

"Did you forget I'm an empath," his other hand reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear, leaving me face burning.

He stares deep into my eyes. I feel like he's reading my mind, even though he's not a telepath. He uses his hand to cup my face. "I'm sorry."

"What, why?" I ask confused. He has no reason to be sorry. He did nothing wrong to me. I'm the one who should be sorry.

"I made you uncomfortable the other night didn't I? I'm sorry," he says looking away ashamed.

Wait what?

"What, no Keefe, you didn't," I say. "I thought I made you uncomfortable, I should be the one apologizing. Please don't say sorry about something that made me happy," I accidentally blurt out.

I cover my mouth with my hand as I realize what I just admitted. I can't believe I just did that. Should I look at him? I'm embarrassed. I slowly look over and see him look at me with an unreadable look. He looks away after a little with a small smile. 

"You always know what to say to hit deep, Foster," he says. "I think it's time to get to bed though."

He stands up and ruffles his hair, not breaking eye contact with me. 

"Are we not going to talk about anything?" I ask confused. 

He stays silent for a little before holding out his hand. I grab it, letting him pick me up from my sitting position. Then he pulls me close for a hug. I gasp in surprise as we are chest to chest. He wraps his arms around me, firm. After a few moments, I lean into him comfortably, wrapping my arms around him. 

"Do you feel my heart, Foster?" he asks. "Listen to it."

I place my head against his chest and I can hear how rapidly it's moving. 

"This is what you do to me," he says burrowing his head in my hair. I can feel his breath on my neck. 

Still in shock, I don't notice when he pulls away. 

"We can talk about this when we figure this shit out," he says. "I want to make sure what I say isn't going to be blocked by other worries going on in that beautiful head of yours."

He picks up my hands one more time, placing a kiss on them. "But for now, let's get a good rest and take it one step at a time, okay?"

I feel so flustered I can't even speak so I settle with a nod. 

"Good night Foster," he says before I walk out of the room, the butterflies making me feel like I'm going to throw up.