Sokeefe Snippets

Her Fault

His heart broke into even smaller pieces. He stepped closer until he was right next to her and tilted her chin up. Her skin was cold, it made him feel like he was touching someone who was half-dead. Her brown eyes, that were once twinkled with joy, were filled with so much pain and guilt, it broke his heart. She didn't deserve this. She never did. It wasn't her fault. Though Keefe had a feeling if he told her that, she wouldn't believe him.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and took the dagger from her. She seemed to snap back into the present once he did. "No! Give it back!" she pleaded weakly, reaching out to grab it. The least logical part of Keefe's brain almost wanted to. The tears spilling down her beautiful face made him almost want to beg to do whatever she wanted. But Keefe held it higher so it was out of her reach. He had to do the right thing. Even if that meant going against what she asked for.

"No, Sophie. I-I don't know why you're doing this, but you can't, okay?" Keefe replied, his voice cracking. He used his other hand to gently cradle her palm in his. "You can't do this to yourself, you can't blame yourself like this," he whispered. She just froze. Then started mumbling, "It was my fault. It's all my fault." Keefe sighed and stood up. He wasn't sure how much he could trust her being alone but he decided to risk it, walking to the bathroom to put the knife in a high-up cabinet. He knew she wouldn't be able to reach it. Keefe walked back to his girlfriend with a wet towel and some medicine for her wound.

He found Sophie curled up in a ball, her self-made cuts still spilling blood. He picked her up in his arms, careful not to hurt her further, and set her on the desk chair. Lifting her arm, he started cleaning the gashes, being careful not to press too hard. With each touch, he flinched as pain stabbed his senses. He didn't understand how Sophie was sitting so quietly, with no indication of being in pain. Sophie watched him work in silence, almost like she was waiting for him to leave so she could keep hurting herself.

He wasn't letting that happen. No matter how intense her feelings were, he would stay by her. "You really need to stop having such intense feelings, Foster," Keefe said before he could stop himself. He winced at his bad wording - that didn't help the situation at all. She was feeling so much regret, pain and worry that if he didn't know better, he'd think it was coming from himself. From himself, that is, if he ever ended up killing the entire Elvin population, since that was the amount of guilt he felt from her.

"Sorry," she apologized, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes were glued to the floor. He tilted her chin up so she was looking at him.

"Foster, why did you do this?" he asked, keeping his voice soft and gentle. She looked away but he wasn't letting her go so easily. "Sophie, please," he begged, hoping using her first name would convince her. "Tell me." She sighed and gave him a timid nod. He gave her a small smile, but in his head, he was overjoyed at the tiny victory. He helped her move to the bed and sat next to her. "Give me a few minutes, I need to clean this up first."

Sophie's POV

Keefe gently pressed the wet towel to Sophie's cuts, lessening the pain. She was almost mad at him - Sophie wanted, needed, deserved to hurt - but she also couldn't help but grin slightly at his stubbornness.

He kept sneaking glances at her, and not in a subtle way, and eventually, she had to tell him, "You can stop doing that."

"Doing what?" he asked innocently. He accidentally pressed too hard on one of her wounds and she flinched. "Oh - I'm sorry, Sophie, I didn't -"

"It's fine," she promised him, taking a deep breath. "And what happened to Foster?"

Keefe looked at her, his blue eyes filled with concern yet somehow staying beautiful. "I'm not joking right now," he said. His voice had a protective edge that made Sophie feel even guiltier. A sentence in the back of her mind on the top of a podium, shone on a spotlight: You don't deserve him. She looked away, only to have Keefe tilt her face back to his. "No - stop it, Sophie," he insisted. "Stop blaming yourself for everything. Stop feeling guilty for good things. Honestly, how do you even manage to do that? It's a good thing that I love you, a good thing that I care about you and want to take care of you." He cupped her face with his hand. "It's a good thing that we're in this together, okay?"