11/19/2017

Stay with me," Sophie heard a soft, weak voice tell her. Her arms ached with a familiar throbbing rhythm, her head pounding. The tension in her head was so tight, she would asked to make an incision at her temple just to relieve the pressure. She tried to peel open her eyelids, surprised at how much energy it took to do the simple action. She squeezed her eyes tighter, before pulling them apart. Her eyes fluttered open, to find a disheveled Keefe. The light seeped through into her eyes, the white walls accentuating it even farther. The eye bags beneath his eyes had sunken in so deep, they looked like deep, dark purple bruises. His navy blue cape was thrown carelessly on the floor and he was left in a green tunic and white fitted pants. They were both wrinkled, but the most disorienting part was the state of his hair. Unstyled. His head between his knees, hands tangled in his unusually flat hair.

"Keefe?" She croaked, surprised at how her voice cracked along the edges. She realized that her throat burned with the bile buried in it.

He froze. She couldn't hear his ragged breaths anymore. The hands tangled in his hair went limp. He shifted positions, so he could see her. His eyes widened.

"You're awake!" He exclaimed, running over and wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. She could feel him shake slightly as he asked her, "Do you have any idea what you've done to me for the last few weeks?"

Headaches equal crankiness.

Sophie had a headache.

According to the Law of Detachment, this means Sophie will be more cranky.

They saw a familiar teal eyed boy who came barging into the room. Fitz. He looked perfectly handsome, as always, and Sophie felt herself swoon a little. "She's awake?" He came over and squeezed her hand lightly before saying, "THANK GOODNESS. Also, you should've leaped away. You were in a coma!"

"Calm down Fitz," Keefe said in a surprisingly relaxed voice. "Sophie's okay. She's here and she's awake."

Fitz blinked his perfect teal eyes back at him in response.

"Fitz, I'm fine. I'm here." Sophie insisted.

"I was worried about you. It was a risky move, and because of that idiot, we're at a full blown war." Fitz looked at Keefe. 

"Wait! What happened?" She interjected. There were more problems?! 

"I may have accused the Neverseen of almost killing you. Which they did!" Keefe exclaimed. They a;; cringed at the words "killing you".

"And...?"

"They might've declared war on the Lost Cities," Fitz sighed. "And it's Keefe's fault."

Keefe only glared back.

You better not feel any guilt, She transmitted to Keefe.

It's fine. I'm used to Fitzy's occasional irrational responses to things. He was worried about you. Y'know him, Keefe thought.

"I am not irrational!" Fitz cried out.

"So that's why you just read Keefe's mind and defied the laws of Telepathy?" 

"You were talking about me."

"So that gives you authority to read his mind?"

"Well-"

"Were you allowed to?" The rage bubbled inside of her like a stew, boiling under the surface. 

He simply sighed. Again.

"I'll take that as a no."

"You know I'm just trying to protect you." Fitz had been. He had been mad because he had been worried about her, but come on. If worry blinds rational thinking, then what does-

"Sure. That's a great excuse for your irrational behavior," She gave him a thumbs-up, the sarcasm obvious in her voice.

"I'm not the one who almost died," Fitz said.

"Hey, you almost died plenty of times!" She countered.

The door slammed with a thud.

Well, that was her answer.

A sharp intake of air filled the room.

"I'm sorry." Keefe apologized.

"Why should you be sorry? It's not like it's your fault."

"I dunno. I just am."

She repressed a sigh. The chair slid across the floor with a loud squeak. He interlocked their fingers together and positioned his chin on the bed.

"Get some rest."

"After a coma, you want me to get more rest?" Sophie rolled her eyes. 

"Yes. Pwease? Pwetty pwease?" He asked in a baby voice with a puppy dog face that would've made any girl swoon. His face turned into a serious expression, staring at her with such intensity, it made everything dreamy and floaty.

"When I say I want you to do something, just trust me. Or do you want Fitz to go tell everyone you're awake and have 500 people bombard you in this healing center?" She just realized she was in an unfamiliar location. Her heart leaped when he said "healing center" but quickly sank after she realized it wasn't Foxfire's. It might never be. The cold, stark white walls had a prison feel to it with no windows and a cube shape. Some cabinets lined the walls with dressers underneath in a symmetrical pattern. The queen-sized bed she lay on had plain cotton white bedding and Keefe sat on a black roller chair which he swiveled on in circles.

"Fine." She eventually relented. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a dream-filled sleep, packed with explosions, weird forces hitting her, a symbol of an eye, a pair of teal eyes, and one she had never seen in her dreams. Icy blue eyes. How unusual.

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