Moonlark Turned Evil

Inktober Special: Spicy

Welcome to Keefe flirting and dropping hints and Sophie being oblivious as hell

It was so hard to write fluff i swear angst is so much easier😭

Happy reading guys

"Up." Sophie rapped on the door impatiently.

There was a groggy, "wha," from inside, followed by a loud thump, as though the person on the other side of the door had just fallen over. Footsteps pattered over, heavy, and the door was opened.

Keefe's hair was rumpled and messy, his eyes half shut as he looked at her through his long lashes. It took a few seconds before he realized who she was, and he froze in place, hand pausing halfway towards a strand of hair that was in his eye.

There was a pause.

"I'll be with you in a moment, Foster," he blurted out, fast enough that she could barely make out what he was saying, and then the door slammed shut in front of her.

Scuffling and chaos was heard from inside, accompanied by low cursing and the sound of things being flung around.

Ten minutes later the door was thrown open again, and Keefe stood before her, dressed neatly in black, highlighted with gold, his hair carefully styled. As if nothing had happened, he leaned against the doorframe and said breathlessly, "Hey."

Sophie peered past him at the mess in the room—clothes strewn everywhere, pillows on the floor—only to have Keefe block her view by closing the door and stepping out into the hallway.

"What brings you here at this ungodly hour, Foster?" he asked cheerfully.

She raised an eyebrow. "Keefe, it's seven in the morning."

"Ungodly. I rest my case, your honour."

"I had a sudden craving for curry," Sophie said. She started towards the deck on the floor below them, gesturing for him to follow by lighting tapping his shoulder.

Keefe did so obediently, falling into step beside her. "So we're going to the kitchen?"

"No, I want to eat in a restaurant."

"Is there a difference?"

"Definitely."

"I'll take your word for it." He looked at her, at his shoulder, then at the floor. Mornings must make him jittery. "Um, so, my dear Lady Foster, is there a reason I'm tagging along with you?"

"Everyone else is busy," she said.

"What a strange way to say you enjoy my company," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Your ego is already so inflated. I can hardly just tell you the truth, can I?"

Keefe grinned, fanning the air between them—a difficult task, since their shoulders were practically brushing. "Either way, I'll be able to tell what you really mean, Foster. To me, you are an open book."

They arrived at the deck almost just as he said that, and she opened the door to lead them outside.

"Is it easier to teleport from here?" he asked curiously as she walked right over to the railing.

They were above the clouds, and the air beyond the forcefield that surrounded Inia was far too thin for them to breathe in.

"No, not really," she admitted, gazing at the clouds below them.

He asked, "Then why did we come here?"

A tiny grin curled over the edges of Sophie's mouth. "Because I wanted to do . . . this—"