ALWAYS, kotlc

memories

"What are we-?"   

Sophie shushed Sandor and motioned him to stand by at Keefe's door.  He had invited her over but Sophie had come earlier, probably just to snoop around his room and leave a plate of freshly baked ripplefluffs somewhere where he'd find it later on.

Sandor gave her a disgruntled glare before closing the door quietly and positioning himself outside the doorway of her boyfriend's bedroom.

Sophie made her way over to his closet first. She rummaged around for a good place to hide the desserts and...

"Wow." A huge stack of notebooks sat on the ledge.  Sophie picked the top one off and flipped through it.  The first page had a picture of her and Keefe sitting below Calla's panakes tree, holding hands.  His ice blue eyes glittered in the sunset and her blonde hair was thrown over his shoulder.

The next page was Sophie spinning around in a slow circle, standing on Havenfield's roof, the dark sky dancing with swans.  Keefe stood a few feet way, watching her with a gaze she hadn't noticed at the time. Sophie peered down at the inscription written in neat slanted handwriting: This is my swan song.

Sophie flipped through tens of notebooks, all starting from the day Keefe had met her.  At Alvuterre... even a sketch of them at the Healing Center after Keefe's brutal sparring match with King Dimitar- her looking at Keefe's angrily.

Sophie smirked at what he'd wrote underneath the drawing: You're cute when you get mad, Foster.

Every drawing brought flashbacks.  Each sketch sent a rush of emotions that brought her back to that day.  

And the notebooks were all filled with her golden flecked brown eyes.

"Noticed those, did you?" Said a voice behind her, the tone clear that the person was smirking.

"Keefe... these are...."  Sophie looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.  "They're beautiful."

"Everything's beautiful when you're in it,"  Keefe whispered, making her blush- but the moment ended abruptly as he pointed out, "Except when Fitzy's in it."

"Remember this?"  Sophie pulled out the sketchbook she'd been flipping to and sank down onto Keefe's bed.  He followed her and plopped down next to her.

They ran through each drawing, laughing and living through each flashback.

Each memory.

And Sophie couldn't think of another person she'd rather share- and make -those memories with.