A/N: Man, I am doing so well at this whole author thing. Two updates in a week. And yes I went MIA for awhile there, but I might have just dug myself out of my writing funk. I'm going to writing camp this summer, so I'm hoping to improve upon my writing skills even more, though I am quite proud of the things I've created. So keep the feedback coming, because I need all the improvement I can get. 

*****

Brown eyes.

Brown eyes are the only thing that have been going through Keefe's mind for two years. Ever since the first time he saw them, it was only ever brown eyes. In his dreams, every time he closes his eyes for the splittest second, or just daydreaming during his boring classes. No matter how many times he's tried (and he has), he just can't get them out of his head. Brown eyes with gold flecks, set into the most beautiful face he's ever had the pleasure of seeing, of meeting, of talking to.

Brown eyes that belong to the best girl in the world. The bravest. If Keefe were to have to do even a fraction of the things she's been forced to do, he'd probably plead for mercy, begging to just never have to do those things ever again. But it seems that no matter what, she can just keep going. And it breaks Keefe's heart, seeing how badly it affects her, and she doesn't even feel like she has a choice. So, he's decided to only be what she needs. To make sure that she never goes too far, to make sure she still has a sense of normalcy in her life. To be support.

But no matter what, he can never get those eyes out of his head. And he doesn't want to, because they're the most amazing eyes in the world. Not like all of the boring blue eyes he sees everyday. No, these brown eyes are warmer, more inviting, like he could stare into them all day and never get bored, because there'd be something new to see every single time. And every single time he did, he just loved the way she'd blush and try to look away, because maybe she didn't know it, but he could always feel the way she'd try to regulate her emotions, just so he wouldn't catch on. And while it was hard to hide emotions from an empath, he had to admit that she was getting better at it.

But maybe it was a good thing that it wasn't the other way around. Otherwise she'd always feel the fondness radiating off of him, or the way his heart would speed up while around her, or the nervousness while he's alone with her, wondering if that's the day she's going to become aware. If that's the day she suddenly stops feeling the same thing he feels for her toward Fitz. Because it's painful, and he can't even turn it off. He just has to stand there and take it, and wait. With the only thing giving him hope being the feelings she's not even aware of. And brown eyes.

Brown eyes that spoke more than words. And currently, he was sitting underneath Calla's panakes tree, pencil in hand, and the perfect girl sitting in front of him, picking at flowers and speaking aimlessly about anything. He couldn't possibly be spending any day better than this.

"How far have you gotten?" she asks with a sweet smile. She turns from the flower petals that were strategically strewn about her feet and legs, and meets his eyes for a split second before looking down, pulling the petals off of another flower that had fallen.

Keefe holds up his sketchbook, showing off the progress he's made, and seeing her smile grow as she takes in the drawing. An unfinished detailed pencil sketch of her sitting in front of him, underneath the panakes tree, with flowers braided into her hair (a small embellishment made by him. Although he doesn't know how to braid hair, if he did, he would definitely do so). In the drawing, she's looking down with a small smile on her face, panakes flowers in her ungloved hands, and the sunrise right behind her, casting light on her face, and shadows behind her. He's tried his hardest to capture the exact moment he's seeing right in front of him, in all its beauty.

"It's amazing. Your talent will probably always amaze me," she says, a soft smile painting her face as she looks up at him again. He feels her initial happiness and fondness when their eyes meet, but then her nervousness as she looks a split second longer. Long enough for Keefe's brain to start going into overdrive.

"That's because everyone's just used to me being the beauty of the group. No one expects the good looking one to be talented," he brags, a familiar smirk settling into his face. He brought his sketchbook back onto his lap, his knees brought up close to his chest as an easel of sorts, and grabs another pencil from the ground beside him.

He'd come to Havenfield early that morning, upon hearing Sophie's call, wanting him to come over because she just couldn't be alone, and to bring his sketching supplies, so he wouldn't be bored. And although he could never be bored while around Sophie, he brought them anyway, seeing as he couldn't pass up a chance to sketch her.

She rolls her eyes, picking off even more flower petals, and dropping them from above her head. They both watch as they slowly rain down onto her shoes.

"I think it's just because you've never mentioned liking art. I bet Fitz and Biana have seen all of your old drawings that I've never seen," Sophie says, starting to rip grass out of the ground. Maybe this is the day.

"Nope. I've never shown anyone but you," he says, taking a deep breath before trying to catch her eye again, hoping that she has enough courage to look at him. It's enough for him to even just see the look in her eye when he says things like that. He knows it makes her feel special. And he wants to keep making her feel special, because she is, and she deserves to know that. Not in the 'you have five abilities and brown eyes and were genetically based off of an alicorn' special, but a 'you've made me admit things to you that I've never admitted to myself, and your smile makes my heart beat a mile a minute' special.

"Maybe you should show them. You deserve all the praise you could get," she says, making him slide lower down, hiding his face behind his sketchbook and trying to gain control of his own emotions, which was proving to be easier in theory.

"Nah, this'll just be our thing. You know, Team Foster-Keefe with their personal artist and beautiful model," he says, deciding to be brave. More brave than usual. He's trying this new thing where he's being more genuine, rather than throwing open ended flirting lines at her. Because Ro was actually right, as much as Keefe hated to admit it. It was confusing Sophie, and he could feel that.

He could see Sophie blushing, the familiar pink tint that always painted her cheeks and nose, and it's even more accentuated in the soft golden and pink hues of the sunrise. He can see her trying to hide her smile, and she seems to accidentally rip a flower in half.

"Um, do you need me to sit here anymore?" she asks, sounding nervous, but trying hard to ignore it. Keefe shakes his head.

"Nope, photographic memory," he says, tapping his forehead with his pencil. Sophie smiles wider, and wipes the petals off of her shoes and legs, then moves to sit next to Keefe, backs against the trunk of the panakes, blossoms raining down on them. He thinks it's the perfect morning.

"It looks so realistic," Sophie says, her voice trailing off as she starts to get closer. So close that Keefe can feel the heat radiating from her, and suddenly the early morning chill isn't so intense.

"I try my best," he says, starting to draw again, trying to take his mind off of how close she really is, and if he didn't need both of his hands right now, he'd be holding hers.

"Well your best is perfect. Don't downplay yourself," she says, putting her hands in her lap and looking down at them like they held the secrets of the universe. For all Keefe knew, maybe they did.

"Oh, trust me, I don't downplay myself. In fact, I'll admit that I may play myself up," he says, giving Sophie a smile while still looking at his sketch. Hopefully she can see it.

"I know, Keefe. You've done it from the moment I met you," she teases, but her words morph into a yawn, and when he looks over, she's already looking at him with sleepy eyes. He knows that she probably hasn't slept in days, but at least she's cute when she's sleepy. Not like himself, who turns into a zombie and needs at least three hours before he's able to even function. This does not bode well when school's in session.

"If you're tired, I can go," Keefe says, but Sophie's already shaking her head. She then leans her head down on his shoulder, making those weird little butterflies flit around his stomach as she holds onto his arm, and he can hear Sophie's soft breathing over the sounds of the animals in the pasture behind them, accompanied by the subtle sound of the blossoms falling around them. The sun is just about to rise above the ocean, and Keefe thinks that he must be the luckiest guy in the world.

"I'm not tired, it's just early. Plus, I wanna see how this drawing turns out," she says as Keefe goes to grab a red pencil, and shades lightly over her cheeks and nose, tinting it with the blush he loves to see on her. Especially when he's the reason it's there.

"You do know that could take hours, right?" Keefe has to ask, putting down his pencil and replacing it with her hand instead, tracing the star shaped scar he always wished he could have prevented, even though he knows he couldn't have. Sophie needed to be fixed, and he knew that. Being able to go in with her wouldn't have changed anything, except that she might have had support instead of having to go into a dark cave with the shady organisation all by herself. Surely the Black Swan had to know about her fear of caves, but they'd seemed to have disregarded that, if they did.

"I don't really care. It's way better than being alone," she says, still getting closer to him. He didn't know it was physically possible, but once he thinks she can't get any closer, she finds out how, and he definitely isn't complaining. He goes back to his sketch, starting to add more colour.

"So, why did you ask me anyway? Couldn't you have asked Fitz or something?" he asks, fully knowing he's asking a dangerous question. For the most part, their little group has an unspoken rule, to always ignore the situation they're in for as long as possible. But so far, Keefe is having a really hard time sticking to that rule.

"I think... I'm starting to realise that whatever I'm going after is not going to happen," she says slowly, as if it were the first time she's admitting this to herself, even. Keefe's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and his eyes widen at the confession.

"Oh? And that means...?" he prompts, trying to get her to talk more about it. His heart is starting to beat fast, because as selfish as it is, this is exactly what he's been hoping for. He knows Fitz too well to know that he's not worth Sophie's affection. And while he doesn't think he necessarily is either, he definitely thinks he's a better candidate than Fitz. Especially after what happened with Alden. Sure, he was going through a really tough time, but it was wrong to take it out on Sophie. Keefe will probably never forgive Fitz for that.

"That means... that Fitz is never going to feel the same way about me that I do about him, and I'm okay with that," she says, the same minute the sun is visible completely over the ocean, reflecting into the glassy water and casting a golden glow on the pasture they're sitting on.

"You know, I think that's the first time you've ever admitted that you have feelings for him. To me, at least," Keefe observes, making his brain yell 'ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION' so he doesn't go into unsalvageable and uncharted territory.

"And not done by accident. Besides, there's no need, you can feel it anyway," she says, bringing up a very valid point.

"Well, yeah, but I keep everyone's secrets. It's part of the ethics, especially since your Foster Feelings are always being thrown my way, and I can't block them. If I were to tell someone about the emotions I get from someone else, it would be an invasion of privacy, just like how reading minds without permission is considered the same," he tells her, realising that she's never actually heard about the empathic ethics. There aren't many, but they're important, so that people don't feel like they're hanging around living lie detectors twenty-four-seven.

"I feel like things would be a lot easier if I was an empath. The Black Swan really let me down there," Sophie says, sounding like she's pouting.

"Oh, you definitely do not want to be an empath. It's boring, pretty much useless half the time," Keefe tells her, shading in the reddish colour of her wispy dress.

"If it was useless, they wouldn't want one on the council. And I think it's pretty cool," Sophie says, and Keefe is glad that she can't see his face, because he's failing at trying to hide his subtle blush.

"Well, it's nothing compared to you. And if you were an empath, then how could I possibly maintain my mysteriousness?" Keefe asks jokingly, and he can practically feel Sophie's eyeroll.

"You're ridiculous," she says with an exasperated sigh, but it melts into a laugh that Keefe would give anything to hear everyday.

"Yeah, but that's why you like me," he says, taking a chance at maybe having this be his day.

"No, I like you because you care," she says quietly, making Keefe's heart beat a mile a minute, for at least the tenth time today. But he gathers up his courage and puts down his sketchbook, turning his head as Sophie lifts her own, and he brings his hand up to her cheek, pushing some of her hair out of her face and behind her ear so he can see her eyes. Beautiful brown eyes he could stare into for hours. He can feel her breath, and the tips of his fingers start to go numb as he realises how close they really are, and how they keep getting closer.

"If you want me to stop, just say the word," Keefe says, starting to get very nervous. But Sophie says nothing. Instead, her eyes trail down to his lips, and then close, and suddenly the rest is up to him.

He closes his eyes, as to not see the moment it happens, because that would make him so much more nervous, and he quickly closes the space between them, wondering if it'll feel as amazing as he'd imagined.

It... is so much better. No movement, no anything, just feeling and navigating new territory. But he loves it. He doesn't ever want it to end, even though he knows it has to. His brain hasn't properly recognised the fact that he's actually kissing Sophie. And he doesn't know how long that will take. But he knows that once it does, he should definitely be alone, because he's totally going to lose his facade and just have a minor freak out. Probably complete with a bit of squealing.

And just as it starts to get a little bit better, which was honestly not even possible at that point, there's a gasp behind him.

Both Sophie and Keefe jump away from each other at the speed of light, completely scared off by the sudden noise. It's only then that Keefe realises that he's been shaking, and Sophie has a look of embarrassment on her face as he turns to find the source of the noise. He expected it to be Grady, ready to clobber him, but instead he finds the wide smile set into Edaline's face.

Sophie is looking down at the ground, at least a few feet away from him, and she's picking the petals off of flowers again. He's never been in this situation, and he doesn't know what to do. So he just hopes it will go away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk in, I just saw that Sophie's room was empty and went to investigate," Edaline stutters out, clearly just as embarrassed as he and Sophie are. Honestly, how could walking in on your daughter kissing someone not be embarrassing?

"Ah, no, it's okay," Keefe says awkwardly, covering his face as if that will somehow make it better. Or maybe he'll disappear.

"I'll just go now," she says, pointing to the house and starting to walk away, and Keefe finally just buries his face in his hands, falling over on the ground, being overdramatic. He groans in pain, and doesn't know what to do from here. Sophie doesn't look much more confident than he does, with her face completely red and an awkward embarrassed smile on her face.

"So...," she says, trying to prompt conversation.

"I'll just die here. Leave me," Keefe tells her, laying down on his back and staring up at the falling branches of Calla's tree.

"It's not that bad," Sophie tries, but Keefe is already completely mortified. His first ever kiss, with Sophie no less, and her mom walks in.

"Oh, it's that bad. I'm completely mortified for the next few centuries at least. You know your dad doesn't like me," he says, watching the wind blow through the branches, taking some flowers with it.

"Come on, there's definitely way more important things to be talking about right now than my dad," Sophie tells him. And he knows she's right, he's just always been worried about how Grady perceives him. Not a very good sign when the father of your crush refuses to even call you your own name.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he says as Sophie moves to lie down next to him. Keefe tentatively finds her hand and holds it lightly in his own, twining their fingers and trying to muster up some bravery to have this weird conversation.

"We don't have to talk about everything. Just tell me if it means anything."

He turns his head to look at her, and as he does, she does the same. He can see each of her eyelashes, and the flecks of gold in her beautiful eyes, and of course he doesn't even have to think about the answer to her question.

"It means everything," he says with a serious face, and he can feel the intensity of Sophie's emotions. He could honestly feel them even if she had her gloves on. And he knows that she feels the same.

She doesn't say anything. Just moves a bit closer and leans her head on his shoulder, making it clear that his words had the most impact. He closes his eyes, savouring the moment and tucking it into the back of his mind for the next time he needs to think of a calm moment. Hoping that their next brush with death won't be so soon, and that he can keep this feeling for a long time.

But for now, he just wants to stay close to her, taking in the scenery that only amplifies how happy he feels in the moment, and focus only on the feeling of her hand in his, and tingling in his lips that has yet to go away, the faintest memory of their kiss embedded in his skin, and he hopes he gets to do it again. Soon.

"Thanks for coming over," Sophie says suddenly, and Keefe is glad to be sharing this moment with her.

"Anytime, Foster. All you have to do is call me. Or transmit to me with that beautiful head of yours," he says, smiling to himself, letting go of Sophie's hand and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer. He can feel the warmth in her emotions, and he remembers that feeling, wanting to make her feel it again.

"As long as you promise not to kiss me in front of anymore of my parents," she jokes, making Keefe laugh a little bit. She's gotten so much funnier since they've started hanging out more.

"That I can definitely promise. Though I was hoping for the kissing to happen a bit more often," he tries, turning his head and smiling at her.

"You're absolutely crazy, you know that?" she says with an exasperated laugh, making him laugh as well. He thinks they must look nuts, laying down on the grass and laughing as they look up to the branches of the tree.

"So no more smooches?" he has to ask, pouting. You can't completely take away a person's sense of humour. Especially Keefe's.

"Don't put me between a rock and a hard place," she pleads, making Keefe's heart twist into an almost painful pretzel, because confident and snarky Sophie will probably never be as good as flustered and shy Sophie.

"I'm putting you between your pride and my lips. And I personally hope that you choose the latter," he says, feeling the smirk on his face return. "Please, you cannot deprive me of Sophie Smooches."

"If you stop saying the word smooches, I will," she wagers, and Keefe's brain whispers a little 'yes' as he tries to hide a smile. "And you have to finish that drawing. I wanna frame it," she says, much softer than the first condition.

"Was already planning to," he tells her, soaking up the sound of the wind rustling the branches of the tree.

"Good. And stay. Just a little longer," she says. And while it doesn't sound like a question, Keefe knows it is.

"I'm right here, Foster. Not going anywhere."