"Here," Keefe said, draping his cape over her shoulders.
"I'm f-f-fine. You d-d-don't h-h-have t-t-to—"
"That would be a lot more convincing without all the shivering," he interrupted. "Besides, it takes more than a little snow to get to me." He flashed a smug smirk, but she could see he was already shivering.
———
Keefe shivered again, his whole body shaking, and Sophie tried to hand him back his cape.
"Nope. You deserve it, Foster," he insisted. "You have saved my life a few times, after all."
"Only once," Sophie corrected.
"Yeah, well you also saved the whole world from the Everblaze, so that counts too. Plus I'll face the wrath of Gigantor if I let you freeze to death, remember?"
———
It was only when Keefe shouted, "Come on, Foster. Don't wimp out on me now!" that she dropped to the ground and pushed off after them.
Bits of grass and mud peppered her face—and she could tell her backside would be bruised for days—but she bumped and bobbed and somehow made it safely to the bottom.
Well . . . almost safely.
Stopping was harder than she'd thought, and she ended up crashing into Keefe, knocking him on top of her.
"Y'know, if you're trying to sweep me off my feet, there are less painful ways," he told her, laughing as she struggled to stand.
———
She tried to pull her mind free, but Greyfell kept sending violent, bloody scenes filled with lumpy-faced monsters—ogres, she realized—beating and bludgeoning everything they touched until the whole world was red. She wanted to cry, scream, scratch the scenes out of her brain. But she could only stand there as the fear seemed to crystallize inside her, freezing her from the inside out.
"Whoa," Keefe said, dragging Sophie back. He held her tight as she shivered against his chest. "It's okay. I've got you."
———
"So," Keefe said, making her realize she was still holding on to him. "You okay now?"
"Yeah. Sorry." She pulled away to stand on her own, hiding behind her hair so he couldn't see her blushing.