it's been a crazy month, hasn't it?

so anyways, most of you wanted double updates twice a month, but with a shorter word count (which means i don't have as much work to do, so there's that!), but i hope you do realize that means even more cliffhangers, right?

oh well, i'm not the one who forced your decision, you brought this pain entirely upon yourselves. this chapter is still going to be a normal length, but starting next month you'll be getting double updates!

i still don't know if it's elven or elvin, so have fun watching me misspell that a billion times- someone help

~anna

Sophie:

I think that I actually might die from the sheer awkwardness of it all. Because that's totally possible, right? It would be the most embarrassing death in the course of elven history, but it's inescapable because Keefe's sitting right there across from me and we're very pointedly ignoring each other's gaze.

I was just having a perfectly normal, ordinary day (unless you count the alternate universe part, but otherwise perfectly normal), until Keefe asked me out in possibly the worst way I've ever heard. I mean, I agreed, but it could have been nicer. I don't know what I was expecting, since it's Keefe Sencen. I wasn't expecting to be asked out at all. Is it possible for elves to spontaneously combust due to a mixture of feelings and overthinking?

And now we're sitting here, barely 4 feet apart, and I can't think of a single thing to say.

("Hey, Keefe, you know how we're stuck here in this alternate universe where we're married? Well maybe I'd like to be married for real. Even though we're technically not even dating yet.")

I can't say that or I'll not only die from the awkwardness but also from soul-consuming mortification. And that would possibly be a worse way to go than getting dismembered by the Neverseen.

I can't believe that I'm thinking about getting killed by the Neverseen while I'm on a date with Keefe Sencen.

"So," says Keefe, looking like he's regretting opening his mouth at all. I wait patiently for him to finish until I realize that he's already finished talking and now he's waiting for me to say something.

"So," I reply, trying my hardest not to die from embarrassment. I didn't expect my first date to be like this. I didn't expect to have a first date at all. Especially not with Keefe.

"This is awkward," Keefe says, interrupting my very complicated and definitely not unnecessary thought process. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eyes.

"This is awkward," I agree, and I place my hands on the table in an effort not to fidget with them in my lap. Then I take my hands and fidget with them again, but on the table this time. Mission backfired, I guess. I can't stop thinking about the mess that I'm in. At least I'm not pulling out all of my remaining eyelashes.

Keefe's mouth twitches up almost involuntarily. "Are you just going to repeat everything I say?" he asks, and then suddenly we're giggling like he's just told the funniest joke in the world. Which doesn't make any sense, since he hasn't. He didn't even say something funny.

Maybe he's just laughing because I started laughing, which makes him feel obligated to laugh so as not to make me feel awkward because I'm laughing by myself, which means that he doesn't think that what he said was funny at all but he's just laughing to make me feel less embarrassed.

I'm overthinking it again, aren't I.

"Well, are you going to order anything?" asks the waitress, who sounds surprisingly pleasant for someone who's been standing there watching us laugh at nothing particularly funny for who knows how long. We must look like two morons to everyone else in the restaurant.

"Yeah, I'll have-" Keefe and I start at exactly the same time, which only makes it even more awkward, and I hate it but love it because doesn't that mean we're bonding? I'm probably overthinking it again.

"I'll have the mashed carnissa root, please," Keefe answers, and I didn't expect him to be so polite but I guess it's another one of the things that Lord Cassius drilled into him, which considerably dampens my mood. At least I'm not in danger of laughing uncontrollably any time soon.

"I'll have the same thing," I say with an awkward giggle, trying not to shrivel on the spot. The waitress walks away, her flowery apron sprouting a purple bud. I wonder if they're real flowers or just a trick of the light.

"Oh my God, you were so awkward," Keefe says, bursting into laughter while my face turns bright red. "'I'll have the same thing?' You sounded like you wanted to die."

"Stop it!" I protest, reaching across the table to do what exactly, I'm not sure. I think my original plan was to swat him on the arm, but then Keefe grabs my wrist and we descend further down the trail of madness.

"Um," I say, very eloquently I might add, but Keefe's still holding my wrist and I don't know if this is a normal thing that people do on dates.

"Um," says Keefe, because apparently he's copying my words now. Oh, how the tables have turned.

"Yes," I say suddenly, even though I don't know what I'm saying yes to. I have subsequently lost the ability to speak multiple syllables.

"Sophie?" asks Keefe, and it's not fair how he can say words that are multisyllabic and sound like he's perfectly fine and not freaking out inside his head. I'm pretty sure that everyone in this restaurant is watching us.

Or maybe that's just me being paranoid.

"Here's your order," says the waitress as she drops by, setting our plates down in front of us with a wink. "You two make a cute couple," she says, and something about her tone makes me want to blush even harder.

I want to open my mouth to say what exactly, I'm not sure. I can't deny it, our rings are in plain sight. "Thank you?" I say, and it sounds more like a question than an actual thank you, but it's better than outright saying, "We're not a couple." Because I guess we are, in a way. Now there's a thought that makes me blush even harder.

"You're welcome, hon," says the waitress, and I can finally make out her nametag that says 'HETTIE' in all caps. Her name sounds suspiciously... normal, almost like a human name. Or maybe it's a nickname.

"It's short for Heloise," says Hettie, almost like she read my mind. Actually, maybe she's a Telepath and she did. I probably shouldn't think about Keefe around her if she's really a Telepath because I don't know if she'll tell him or not. Actually, why would she tell Keefe? She doesn't even know him. I have to stop overthinking these sorts of things. "I'll leave you two alone, unless you need anything...?"

"No, I think we're good," says Keefe, having already eaten half of his plate. "Sophie, are you good?"

I'm practically the farthest thing from good, but instead I answer, "Yeah, I'm fine." I hesitantly take a forkful of the mashed carnissa root and umber leaves, which tastes exactly like it did my first day in the Lost Cities, cheeseburgers and chicken. I can still remember that day in perfect detail, mostly due to my photographic memory but also the emotional attachment I have.

Keefe has a photographic memory too.

(Just another thing we have in common.)

And normally this would be the part where I tell my brain to shut up, but it's true, isn't it? Because we're on a date right now. And I can't remember the last time I felt this free.

Keefe:

The stars are shining and so are Sophie's eyes. (I'm pretty sure that every poet ever just rolled over in their grave. I don't have a career in poetry, that's for certain.) She looks like I've just hung the moon and stars, and maybe defeated the Neverseen single-handedly while we're at it.

I don't know what I've done to make her look this way but I never want her to stop. If only this was a real date and I could confess my feelings. (I need to stop bringing my hopes up. This isn't a real date and I'm perfectly fine with that.)

(Who am I kidding? I haven't been fine in so long that it's not even funny anymore. Look at me, Keefe Sencen, the world's biggest mistake. I don't know why Sophie took a chance on me, but I'm eternally grateful that she did.)

We finish the rest of our meal in silence, only Sophie keeps glancing up at me and grinning so widely and I realize that I can't remember the last time she's looked this happy. (I still don't know what I've done. Maybe she likes being out of the house? That's probably it.)

"We should probably go," I say awkwardly because we've both finished eating and now we're just sitting quietly and staring at each other. Is this what an actual date is late? Probably not, since this isn't a real date anyways.

"Okay," Sophie says breathlessly. "Thank you for dinner," she adds, looking down at the table and wringing her hands. "I had a nice time," she says quickly, her words mashing together and it takes me a few seconds to comprehend what she just said.

"I did too," I say automatically, smiling at her, because it's true, isn't it? A not-date between two friends, one of which is hopelessly in love and one of which is not doesn't sound all too great at first, but it was nicer than I expected. Everything was perfect, actually, except that I can't stop reminding myself this is all pretend.

"Did you already pay?" asks Sophie, which is a bit funny because I've already paid, not even two minutes ago. And she's been watching me this whole night, smiling to herself, so she had to have noticed me paying. I nod instead of trusting myself to speak, which is probably a smart decision since I'm sure having a voice crack in the middle of a crowded restaurant is horribly mortifying. "Oh. I would have offered to split the bill, you know."

"It's only one dinner," I say, and because I'm an absolute idiot I feel compelled to add, "you can pay next time."

"Next time?" asks Sophie, biting her lip and catching herself before she tugs on her eyelashes.

I laugh awkwardly to try to cover up the fact that my mind has gone blank. "Uh, yeah! Unless you don't want to...? I probably shouldn't have assumed." Naomi would facepalm if she was here, I'm sure. She would probably have a dent in her skull from all the facepalming she would be doing if she was here, too.

"Yeah, I'd love to," says Sophie breathlessly, and she breaks into a grin like she can't help herself. "I guess we should leave? We've already paid and all."

I blink and realize that we've been sitting at an empty table for over ten minutes now. The restaurant is probably desperate to turn our table over since it's a Friday night. "Yeah, let's go."

Hettie grins at us from where she's balancing seven plates precariously on her arms. "You two have a fun night!"

Sophie waves at her and elbows me discreetly, so I take it as a cue to wave as well.

We decide to walk back to our house since it's not too far, and it's not like we're on a pressing schedule. Malik agreed to watch Naomi and Favian, though he's probably hailing Alethea in his room and letting Naomi trash the house instead of watching them.

"Thank you," Sophie says, smiling up at me once we reach a field not three minutes from our house, and I have to remind myself for the millionth time that it's all an act. "I really liked spending time with you."

"We don't have to keep up the act right now, you know?" I say, forcing a laugh and trying not to die on the inside. I don't think that I can deal with Sophie acting all giggly and happy and pretend for another second. "There's one's around. You can relax."

"What act?" asks Sophie, frowning up at me. I want to scream, or rip my eyes out, or throw something. How can she act like it isn't hard for her too? Like it's near impossible to pretend to be a happy couple when we're not?

I know it's a horrible decision, but I sneer at her, the perfect imitation of my father. Because that's what I always do. Close myself off instead of facing my problems. "We don't have to keep pretending we're on a date when we're not." It takes Sophie a second, but when she realizes what I said her face falls.

"Oh my God," whispers Sophie, grabbing her arms and clutching herself, shaking slightly. Something pangs in my chest as her voice falters. "You were lying?" she asks, looking betrayed and faltering and horrified all at once.

I stare back at her in confusion. "You know we're not..." I start to say, but the way her face crumples makes it impossible to finish my sentence.

My first thought is that I never told her that Naomi made me ask her out. I never even hinted at it. Well, maybe once or twice but I never outright said it. Besides, Sophie's notorious for not being able to pick up on even the most obvious details.

I really liked spending time with you.

Oh God. This was all real for her. The dinner, the smiles, the confessions - all of it. The devastation on Sophie's face says it all.

I feel nauseous all of a sudden, like Sandor just bowled me over and punched me in the stomach. Repeatedly. "Sophie, I didn't-"

Sophie shakes her head, not even trying to stop herself as she rips out nearly half of her eyelashes. "You were lying this whole time..." She grips herself tighter, shaking a little like she might get blown away by the next gust of wind.

I take a step closer, feeling awful all of a sudden. "I didn't know. Naomi told me-"

Sophie looks up at me for the first time, the pain in her face clear. The anger in her eyes is what sends me stumbling backwards, though, losing the step I had gained. Her voice quivers, but she stands strong and tall and so very untouchable. "You know, Keefe, when you joined the Neverseen, when you went behind all our backs - I don't hate you for that. But this...? This I think I do."

"I didn't mean to-" I try to explain, trying to swallow down my hurt. If only Sophie would just listen. 

"You - I've already confessed to you, and you'd just throw my feelings out the window, Keefe?" Sophie says, advancing on me, the anger clear in her voice. "You don't get to take advantage of my feelings like that!"

"Well maybe I would have if you hadn't been lying to me!" I shout, my hurt and anger finally boiling over. "I might be angry at you! Need I remind you that you said you didn't mean it!"

Sophie looks close to tears, but her gaze is still murderous. The wind picks up around us, whipping her blonde hair in her face like a scene straight out of a human drama. "Are you looking for a fight, Keefe? I think you would have learned, after everything that's happened."

"I just wanted-"

"Go away. I don't want to look at you."

I reach my hand out, trying to reach her shoulder. Sophie flinches away, not meeting my eyes. "Sophie, come on..."

"Go away!" Sophie glares at me, looking like she might either burst into tears or punch me at any moment. She might not seem deadly, but I've seen the way she can take down an entire group of elves with a single thought. She turns on her heel and leaps away, leaving me to sit down in an empty field with just my thoughts to keep me company.

It's terrifying, how all their years of friendship could lead to this. But if Sophie wants to be left alone, then I can do that. I've spent years of watching her and Fitz in their own little world. If there was an art of being left out, I would have already perfected it.

Still, a part of me is screaming to run after her and make her understand that I didn't mean for it to come to this. That I liked her too.

But if Sophie wants to be left alone, then I have no choice but to respect her wishes and let her calm down.

this chapter was long, but i hope it's worth the wait!

i apologize for making sophie overreact even though it's out of character, because i just wanted their relationship to go somewhere?? i feel like the past few chapters have just been them tiptoeing around each other and i wanted something to happen. oops-

anyways, i did say that the date would be interesting didn't i?

on a side note, thank you for 100k! does anyone have any ideas for the 100k special? there's the possibility of:

a) a ship chapter

b) a q&a

c) other suggestions (i'm too lazy to think of some right now but you guys can suggest some ideas in the comments!)

WORD COUNT: 3000