perfect sokeefe

the question of love

a/n: 3000 word story ahead.
tw: self-depreciating thoughts 

♡⇐ Ｓｏｋｅｅｆｅ Ｌｏｖｅ ⇒♡

Keefe first fell in love with Sophie five months ago, when she had helped him with his homework.

He still remembered the date, not because of this reason, but because it was also the date of his birthday. The day never held any special value to Keefe, since it always reminded him of the two people who never really loved each other enough to properly take care of a child. Even though he knew this simple point shouldn't have upset him as much as it did, he still stayed locked up in his dorm, too perturbed to do anything else but frown and watch his comfort shows.

Deep into the afternoon of the same day, he realized that despite his absence, homework still held its existence. The fact in his head, he begrudgingly tidied up and set himself to the library to complete some work. With the great quantity of bookshelves now towering over him, Keefe thought that he could finally complete something. But, alas, nothing ever came that easily to him.

The blonde boy had spent nearly half an hour lulling over the amount of homework that was swamped on the desk, waiting for a spark of motivation to light a fire to the start of his study session. Nothing had happened.

Instead, he watched as Sophie walked into the library, met his eye, and sat right beside him. They shared a light conversation, one about Keefe's lack of attendance during the morning classes before Sophie set her sights on the papers stacked on the wooden furniture.

Without a second thought, she reached out for the math packet, using one of her pencils to explain the concept to him. Keefe had just sat there, muttering small noises of affirmation when Sophie asked whether or not he understood.

There was something about that moment.

It might've been the way she looked up at him, her eyes wide and understanding.

It might've been the way she softly caressed his hand whenever he muttered a bitter, 'I don't understand'.

It might've been the constant compliments that Sophie granted him every time he solved a problem. The quiet but enthusiastic, 'good job' or 'you did it'.

Or, maybe, it was just her downright willingness to help him. It was strange to him, but not completely unordinary. Fitz had shown his devotion to their friendship through this act various times in the past, but there was something different about the way Sophie did it. It was purer, maybe because it was backed up by the fact that they were relatively new acquaintances, and maybe even the fact that Keefe had been harboring his feelings for her at bay for far too long.

When the two finally waved farewell to each other, and the moment Sophie's flowing blonde hair was stripped from his vision, he whispered, lowly, and to himself, "I love that girl."

It had come so naturally to his lips.

And here he was, five months later, still occasionally muttering the phrase to himself whenever the blonde girl did anything lovable

In the past five months, Keefe had grown more accustomed to constantly surveying the blonde girl's behavior around him, wanting something to reassure himself that the feeling was reciprocated. There had been various hints.

For example, she would always reach out for him when experiencing any strong emotion, and this particular trait, Keefe found absolutely adorable.

Once, they both had gone into a haunted house. They both had walked through a haunted house together once and the whole time, Sophie had pressed herself against Keefe's shoulder, her hand clutching his hand, nails digging into his skin. It was painful, but there was also a sense of confidentiality that she had in him that made him glow.