Home
Sophie couldn't sleep, nor could she close her eyes. The rattling sound her windows made as the wind howled against them distracted her. She wanted to sleep, but she couldn't. Not when she realized light radiated off Keefe's bedroom window.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she sat up and it made the bed creak. Why was Keefe awake at this hour? And then worry started to seep in.
She stood in front of her window and looked at the other side. She thought of various things that made the Sencen boy awake. Frustration. Anger. Hopelessness. Black Swan. Neverseen—His mom. And then she felt her stomach churn in an unpleasant way.
Sophie grabbed her coat and walked outside her room and down the stairs, reaching the boy's common room in a matter of minutes. It took some time for her eyes to get adjusted to the darkness, and her mouth curved into a frown when not once did she see a moving sillhouette. Keefe wasn't here.
Where was he?
Because she vowed to herself that she wouldn't make him face his problems alone. She wanted to slap him on the face just to show him she cared—But still it scared her. It scared her once Keefe wasn't with her . She feared that once he escaped her sight, he would do all those reckless things his mind have been plotting. And it worried her, a lot.
She held back a shaky sigh and made her way towards the entrance of their tree house—and it surprised her when she saw the tiny crack the door made. Someone was here not too long ago, and Sophie felt a tiny flicker of relief in her as she pulled the door open and stepped out into the chilly night.
Of all Sophie's previous nights here Alluveterre, this was the chillest night she has experienced—so far. She pulled her coat tighter against her body, trying to block away the cold wind.
She squinted her eyes as she scanned the area below. Alluveterre's trees stood around them and there was a river at the other side, and Sophie half-expected Keefe to be sitting under the tree where she and Fitz first had their Cognate training. But as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she couldn't spot a single shadow under that certain tree—And so she clicked her tongue in annoyance and made her way to the log where she took Keefe to talk.
And for the first time in the past days, Sophie felt relieved as she saw a familiar figure hunched back and a familiar lock of blonde hair.
"Keefe?" Sophie's voice echoed a bit loud around the area. "I was looking everywhere for you." And she expected him to turn around and laugh and make a comment of: 'Awwww. Does my little Foster miss me that much?" —But no single sound could be heard from the boy before her.
She shook her head and frowned as she slowly leaned closer, extending her arm out to touch his shoulder—But then a hoarse voice made her stop. "Sophie?"
It was Keefe.
"Yes, it's me," Sophie closed her eyes and felt a sting in her chest. There were only a few times he would call her by her first name, and those were during the times he's on the verge of breaking down. And this was one of the few times.
The boy before her made a slight movement and turned around to face her, and she faught back a sob as she saw the state Keefe was in. And it broke her too, knowing that the cheerful Keefe she knew won't be coming back anytime soon.
His beautiful blue eyes were dull and red and swollen, as tears continued to roll down his cheeks. His brows were creased together, forming a line that told her he has been crying all this time. But the look in his eyes were the once that would forever engrave in Sophie's mind—It was the look of someone who doesn't know where to go. Confusion. Pain. Hatred. All other things that screamed that Keefe wasn't him anymore.
Sophie slowly sat down beside him and reached for his eyes, wiping away the tears and caressing his cold cheek. "It's okay, it's okay," She whispered slowly like a chant to make him feel better. "I got you." And silently, she wrapped her arms around him—and he was shaking, not from the cold, but from the crying. It hurts to know that he has been holding back for God knows how long.
She tightened her hold around him, and the silent night was filled with Keefe's sobs and cries. He shook angrily against Sophie but he didn't push her away—and that was a good thing.
"Is it selfish of me to pray for home?" Keefe asked after a few minutes of silence. "Sophie, I want to go home."
"It's not selfish of you Keefe. I mean, all of us wishes for home too. But we're also here, with them. And those back home are also supporting us with all they can," Sophie leaned her head against Keefe's. "And no Keefe. It's not selfish of you—of all of us."
"But my mom—My mom's a criminal. I want to go home but I'm scared that no one would want a child of a criminal back home. And again, Mr. Keefe is the odd one out. No one would ever want me there."
"But Keefe," Sophie whispered. "I want you here, with me."
And Keefe's eyes widened in surprise and he felt the way his chest tightened and it became harder to breath. Tears started falling again as he leaned his head against Sophie's shoulder, a chuckle escaping his lips. It was stupid of him to wish for home.
Because he realized that home isn't just a place. Sometimes, it's a person who will always be with you wherever you are or whatever you'll do—a person with warm brown eyes and golden flecks. Home might just be wherever Sophie Foster is.
And Keefe can live with that.
