TRUST FALL, sokeefe | ✔️

Chapter 10 | Keefe

*When I say football, I mean American football, not soccer, just to clear some things up. Sorry for the confusion.

Sophie fell asleep on his shoulder, he didn't want to wake her, but it most likely would be quite disorienting to wake up on an island the next day. He gently picked her up bridal style. She was so light, gods, did this girl eat anything?

Keefe carried her back to the boat, it seemed everyone else had also gotten bored and wanted to leave. He gently shook her awake, "Hey, Foster, we're heading back now."

She opened an eye and looked adorably confused, he gently let her down on the sand. "We're heading back now."

Sophie turned a nuclear shade of red, "Oh god, did I fall asleep on you—crap, sorry I was just so tired, and—" She looked at him in the eye, "Stop grinning like that!"

He did no such thing, "Not a chance."

"Screw you."

"Sorry, I don't think that's possible—you see you need a—"

Smack. "From rambling to smacking in a few moments, glad having a night with the hot-shot that is me hasn't dimmed your usual good spirits." He said.    A/N; when writing 'hot-shot' I made a typo and wrote, 'hot-sh*t' oops. Glad I caught that before publishing this.

"Good spirits? I'll show you could spirits." She proceeded to continue smacking him. 

God, she could be on the football team with that amount of power in those smacks. But still, "Trying to feel my muscles, Foster? You could have just asked." Then he proceeded to flex his muscles. 

"Prick."

Sophie

"Trying to feel my muscles, Foster? You could have just asked."

He lifted his arm to flex his muscles, which were quite impressive if she was generous enough to admit it. But she wasn't generous enough to admit it. "Prick."

"You're the one so desperate to touch me."

He had gone over the invisible line by saying that. She would not be desperate, not after what had happened. Not after Fitz Vacker the one and only cheated on her. With Stina gods above, looking through Instagram one night to find her boyfriend with his hands up Stina's shirt at a party had been nothing short of surprising. 

"I. Am. Not. Desperate—and I will never be so shut your rutting mouth—do me a favour—go to hell." Never desperate. Not again. Not ever. 

When she looked back, she saw a flicker of hurt flash in his eyes. His face was the definition of shocked and surprised. She honestly felt a little bad, but she had to set a line. A clear line. One that would never be blurred. 

Keefe

"I. Am. Not. Desperate."

Her words were laced with so much venom it threatened to almost knock him over. No one had ever said anything that hurt him that much. Not even any of his long list of exes, it was ridiculous to call them exes, more like one night flings—if that, more like half-night flings, or quarter night flings, considering he had more then one girlfriend at one party.

"Sophie...I—I didn't mean—"

"Save it."

"No—Sophie, I—"

She gave him one final look, "I have nothing more to say to you." Then she sauntered away. 

***

The boat felt too small with both her and Keefe on there, even with the metres separating them. No one had noticed the silence between them, and Sophie was eternally grateful for that.

She hadn't been able to see who was there when they were at the bonfire, with the shadows casting light on everything, almost completely obscuring everyone's features, the only tell about who was who by their voices. And with the fairy lights illuminating the boat she could see everyone.

One person stopped her dead in her tracks. "Fitz?"

I know it's a really short chapter, so apologies for that, but I just really wanted to have that cliff-hanger. (Cause I know you all love those  No, lol, I just like watching you guys suffer. ;)