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v. roses & wine

disclaimer: i do not own KOTLC.


title: roses & wine

pairings&characters: sophie, keefe, fitz, tam, mr. forkle, biana, linh, dex, silveny, sophitz, sokeefe

genre: romance, hurt/comfort, au

rating: M for trigger warning, language, and qUIck KiSsEs dOn'T jUdGe me

summary: a midnight movie date takes a turn for the worst.

a/n: apparently everything i write about sophie and keefe has to be angsty... but dw this one isn't as bad as my others.


playlist ;

moonlight ; ariana grande

alone together ; sabrina carpenter

bitter love ; pia mia 

more than words ; little mix


Keefe stood at the front door of Havenfield for twenty minutes, despite already being late. Sophie had invited him over last minute as Grady and Edaline had changed plans, deciding to go out on a date. So, she'd declared that they were going to get another date of their own.

Dating in secret was harder than they'd both anticipated. It took all of their willpower not to tease and touch and kiss one another whenever they were within one another's presence.

Being around their friends was especially difficult, as they had to fight to contain blushing and longing glances.

He snorted a little, missing his hair in the damp, cool night air. His shoulder and stomach screamed at him from the movement, immediately reminding him why his mood was so sour, and why he was fighting to pull a happy façade before he would face Sophie.

Cassius had. . . Not been happy with his last minute plans, to say the least. Keefe had tried to sneak out of the house, not wishing to try and explain to his dad that he was seeing Sophie again, especially so late.

He didn't like when he asked him questions and got that disappointed look in his eye whenever Foster was brought up. His dad could do anything he wanted to him — but he just wouldn't stand for having Sophie anywhere near that equation.

Keefe peered behind him, looking into the dark tapestry above him, littered with flecks of glitter. He could tell it was probably going to start rainging sometime soon.

With a sigh, he made a fist and knocked on the door. Immediately he felt a spike from somewhere inside the house, growing stronger by the second as the source grew closer. A smile bloomed on his face, trying to imagine Sophie barreling through the house to the front door.

Eventually the knob clicked and the door swung open, revealing a heavily-breathing Sophie. She had a hand to her chest, right above the neckline of her tank top.

"Keefe," she hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. He simply smirked at her concern, watching as she stole a glance at the sky before closing and locking the door behind him.

"You missed me," he accused cheekily.

"You're late," she replied, shaking her head and already beginning to walk off. Keefe kicked off his shoes hurriedly, trailing behind her as she made her way to the kitchen.

He opened his mouth to try and ramble off some excuse when she pulled a stool out from the island. A crease formed between his brows for a moment as she popped up onto the stool, sitting.

He rose an eyebrow. "No food?"

"I'm expecting an explanation for being twenty minutes late when you said you'd be right over. And given the fact that it's you, I'm guessing it's going to be long." She patted the seat. "So, I'm sitting."

He couldn't muster a smile. He was too busy focusing on the red flashing in his mind, slowly turning to black. He swallowed, shoving the memories down to the pit of his stomach. He'd let his feelings dwell there for the night — not in his brain, not in his heart. His heart and his brain, those were Foster's. Tonight and forever.

He pulled a hazy smile, brushing a hand through his hair. "Everybody knows you've gotta be fashionably late, Foster. Then you get to see everyone's relieved and excited faces when you walk through that door."

He gestured to her entirely, eliciting a scoff and eye roll that made him laugh. She shook her head leisurely, eyes running across the counter space in the kitchen for a few seconds. When she turned back to him, her eyes trailed over his body as if something would be a dead giveaway for his actual whereabouts during his twenty minute absence.

He stiffened, going ramrod. He couldn't help it, and it killed him. He didn't want her to come to that conclusion. He didn't want the pity or the sadness. Didn't want to dull her mood.

She wasn't taking her eyes off of him or his fumbling hands, so he decided to split the attention. He noticed that she wasn't holding a crystal or pathfinder like usual, whenever he decided to sneak into her house in some attempt to stay the night. Or stay as long as he could.

"What, no pathfinder? We could need that for a quick getaway."

She actually smiled at that and he mentally sighed, shoulders relaxing. Maybe she wasn't fully convinced that he was doing okay, but it was good enough that she wasn't asking him any questions. "Nope. Parents aren't home. We're spending the night in."

The sparkle in her eyes and the tiny gust of sudden want that radiated off her body made his breath hitch.

Sophie hopped off the stool and in one fluid motion grabbed his hand, leading him up to the stairs. Keefe followed behind, smiling and shaking his head. "Would Grady and Edaline approve of this?"

"Edaline would be fine with it," Sophie said, even though Keefe already knew the answer. She kept her hold on his hand as they climbed the stairs to her room. "Grady would probably feed you to Verdi."

"Aw, well we all know you'd protect me," he teased, grinning up at her. She looked behind her for a brief second as if sensing it, and the moment that her eyes landed on him she cracked her own smile. Shaking her head, she turned forward again. "Not if you were annoying me, I wouldn't. There are exceptions to these things. But anyway, stop distracting me. I'm going to trip and fall down the stairs."

"Well, I'd personally catch you in that situation, no matter how annoying you may have been previous to the fall."

Sophie rolled her eyes, thankful when they finally reached the third floor. She led him to her double bedroom door, which was closed. She let go of his hand, spun around to face him, and leaned back against the wood.

"Alright, I set up the room for us, but please don't make a big deal out of anything you see."

Keefe rose an eyebrow. "Is there something. . . concerning in there?"

"No, I just don't want you to tease me for actually putting effort into cleaning up my room for you."

Keefe laughed and Sophie turned, taking to doorknob and swinging open the door. Keefe peered around her, blinking a little at how dimly lit the room was.

Sophie blushed, gesturing for him to follow her in. He did, stepping into the large area and closing the door behind him when Sophie made a vague motion for him to do so. He looked around her room, noticing how she really had cleaned everything.

Her shelves were spotless and dusted. The flower carpet didn't have a single petal out of place. The curtains were free of creases, draping over the huge crystal wall. There were some candles lighting up the dim room, scattered on various available spaces around the room. Her canopy bed was made, mounds of pillows sat against the headboard. There was a tiny tray sitting on the bed. Two plates were filled with food. Keefe recognized one as slices of mallowmelt, but the other tray was filled with unrecognizable food.

Sophie turned a deep crimson, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and clearing her throat. As if reading his mind, she followed his line of sight and said, "French fries. Human thing. Absolutely terrible for you, but they taste good. Just don't ask how I got them."

Keefe laughed at the last part, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I'm impressed, that's for sure."

Sophie bit her lip in an attempt to hold back her smile. "Do you like it?"

Keefe nodded. "Yeah. A lot, actually." It filled him with such warmth to know that she'd taken the time to set all of this up just for them.

He noticed the iPod laid out on her bed and he gave her a questioning look. "I wanted to show you a movie I liked when I was little. Disney movie. If that's okay with you."

Keefe nodded, remaining more than a little baffled at how much work she'd put into the night. It had been really last minute, which was why his dad had been so pissed when he'd sprung on him that he was leaving to spend the night with Sophie.

He blocked out the memories, reaching out and offering his hand to Sophie. Sophie blushed further, making a warm, fuzzy feeling erupt in Keefe's chest as she took his outstretched hand.

He led her forward to the bed, even though he had no clue what she had planned for the evening, besides the movie.

Sophie crawled onto the bed and Keefe followed, the two settling side by side. Sophie made her legs go cross-crossed, smiling at him. "What?" she asked perkily.

"Hmm?" he prodded.

She laughed. "You have a look on your face," she clarified, reaching over and brushing a strand of hair out of his face. The curl persisted and dropped right back down, causing Sophie to narrow her eyes. Keefe chuckled at her.

"Didn't know I had a look on my face," he admitted, "but. . . I'm really impressed, Foster."

She blushed at the praise, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She swallows to try and clear the silence and Keefe's smile only beamed brighter the more flustered she got.

She waved to the food, clearly giving him an invitation to eat before leaning off the side of the bed. Keefe was about to tease her that the position she was in was giving him a pretty clear view of her ass, but he noticed the way her cotton shorts rode up on her thighs and he respectably turned away. Not a moment later, she straightened back up onto the bed, a new item in hand.

The contents of the glass bottle swished from the sudden movement of her uprighting herself, dark and blazing red. She set it in the middle of the two trays of food, clearly most likely how to get the cork off, by the direction of her gaze and then crease in her forehead.

"Foster," Keefe chided teasingly, sending a blush to her cheeks and down her chest. His eyebrows lifted in surprise and she looked like she wanted to swat her hand at him. "Oh, don't give me that face," she muttered, the tips of her ears darkening the same colour as her face, down to her breasts.

"No, I just didn't think you were a wine kind of person," he joked, smirking at her. She shook her head at him, but her body betrayed her as she cracked a smile. "What did you think I was, then?"

Keefe grabbed a French fry, biting into it.

Not bad.

He chewed, smirking, allowing for himself to swallow before he shrugged. "Honestly? Fruit punch."

"Oh, I'll give you a fruit punch upside the head."

Keefe snorted.

Sophie waved at him, gesturing to the food again, clearly wanting him to actually eat. He nodded and they both started stuffing themselves, making jokes or bright comments here and there. Keefe enjoyed how breezy the conversation was, and how happy Sophie was feeling. The joy radiating off of her was contagious — infectious, even.

And, god, she was gorgeous.

She was only wearing cotton shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top, but she was glowing in the candlelight. Her hair was glossy and her skin looked soft. Her eyes were sparkling, lips plush and full.

He blinked as he watched her strap slide off her shoulder. Sophie was talking, not noticing that it had even happened, or that Keefe was distracted from the conversation.

Keefe finished the food waiting in his hands, brushing off his hands over the side of the bed before scooting closer to her.

She stopped talking immediately as he got close — so close — breath hitching. She met his eyes, and a smirk grazed over his mouth, remaining there for a few seconds before it fell. His eyes flickered to her shoulder again, then eyes, then mouth.

Keefe reached over tentatively, locking eyes again with Sophie briefly as his fingers skimmed her arm. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as he trailed his finger up, softly dipping it under her fallen strap and tugging it up over her shoulder so that it was snuggly nestled again.

Sophie shuddered when he brushed his fingers up under her chin, tickling her sensitive skin. He moved his fingers to trace her jaw, his mouth curving in the slightest as he felt the spark of anticipation come from her.

"Easy there, Foster," he chided when she started giving off some sort of needy vibe. She was practically glowing with want and everywhere he touched her was like some sort of electric shock.

"Keefe. . ."

She met his eyes, and he took note of something swirling and entrancing in hers. She searched his eyes for a second longer before blowing out a breath.

"Foster, do you. . ." His words tapered away as Sophie crawled towards him, pressing his back on the mound of pillows against the headboard. He watched her crawl on top of him slowly and straddle his hips, his heart racing in his chest.

Keefe held Sophie's gaze as she took the hem of her top, slowly lifting it up and off of her body before dropping it slowly over the edge of her bed. It was dramatic, she knew, but she wanted to mess with him a bit. She shook out her hair slowly so it haphazardly tumbled around her shoulders, loving the way Keefe's gaze was glued to her, enraptured by her and clearly loving her mini show.

She leaned forward, cupping his face and softly kissing him before leaning back and smiling sheepishly.

"Sophie. . . You're making it really hard for me to even think about stopping tonight."

That sent a tingle running up Sophie's spine. He felt it. "That's what cold showers are for," she replied nonchalantly.

Keefe couldn't even break a smirk, heart hammering in his chest as she leaned down again, set on kissing him. Their mouths met, dancing for a minute before Keefe moved on from her mouth, pressing kisses to her cheeks and nose. Slowly he moved to along her jaw, pressing one last kiss to her mouth before trailing under jaw and down her neck.

He waited until he felt Sophie's focus fizzle away, grabbing her hips and rolling them over so that he was on top. The quick movement caused Sophie to squeak in surprise. Keefe let out a breathy laugh, leaning down and peppering more kisses to her throat.

Sophie knotted her hand through Keefe's hair, fluttering her eyes closed as he continued his lazy kissing. He left a few open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck as Sophie reached up, snaking under Keefe's shirt splaying her hands out on his abdomen.

He sucked in a breath at that, something close to a gasp and sigh, practically undoing Sophie. She bit her lip to restrain her smile, glad his face was nuzzled into the crook of her neck so that he couldn't see her struggles. But, he could probably feel them, given the tiny breathy chuckle that he released. Bastard.

After allowing him a few more seconds of kissing, she grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, tugging up. Keefe propped himself up higher above her, allowing just enough time to slip his shirt off over her head and discard it over the side of the bed.

Sophie giggled as he quickly returned to kissing her, chests plastered together. He caught the corner of her mouth and she hummed when he pulled back, kissing her cheek.

Her hands trailed down his back, over to his sides, back around to his stomach again. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but the feel of her hands skimming and roaming over every inch of him was driving him wild.

"I think—"

Her mood shifted the second she cut herself off. Keefe stopped kissing, leaning back just enough to meet her eyes. Sophie was staring down at him — not his eyes, not his face, though. She was looking at his body with narrowed slits, squinting to observe in the dimlight.

In an instant, her eyes widened as she shuddered.

"Fuck," Sophie choked out, pushing Keefe back farther, hands on his chest.

Sophie's chest was heaving, up and down with deep and fast breaths as she roped her eyes down his form.

At first he was confused, but then he decided it must be a joke, because it was all so odd. So, Keefe had been ready to tease her, lips already beginning to form his infamous smirk — until her feelings finally sunk into his bones.

Shock and disgust and some form of sadness — almost close to pity, but more feathery — wrung through her veins.

Keefe grabbed her wrist, eyebrows furrowing as he opened his mouth to ask her whatever the matter was. She looked up at him with wild eyes, though, not even giving him the chance to form a word before she interrupted him.

"Keefe why didn't you tell me?"

"What? I don't—"

He looked down at himself, not knowing what she was referring to. He sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes landed on the dark bruises littered over his chest and abdomen.

Fuck, he'd forgot about those.

He had been so lost in her hypnotizing touch, her earth-shattering kisses, her gorgeous eyes, that he just hadn't even thought one flying fuck about it. He'd thrown the experience out the window, entirely forgetting about it the second she'd pulled him in.

"Shit," he muttered.

He gripped her wrist a little tighter, out of fear that she'd run. That she'd leave him out of fear or disgust or anger. He looked her in the eyes, stomach swimming with acid as he felt another flood of hot disgust run over her body. "Sophie, I know I look like shit, but—"

"No," she said, eyes still wide as she propped herself back on her elbows. She seemed to understand why he felt the need to say it. "No, no. What you're feeling is not for you. That is for him. He-He—" Her blood was practically boiling, body shaking lightly with her anger.

Keefe nodded somberly. "I know, Foster," he agreed calmly, caressing her wrist with his thumb.

"He hit you," she whispered shakily. Her body shuddered.

Keefe closed his eyes for a brief second, nodding. "Yeah," he agreed, voice strained and tight.

Sophie's eyes turned to stone again, flashing dark and brooding. "I'm going to kill him," she hissed, pushing herself up. The intensity of her dead-beat serious gaze and voice made Keefe's spine tingle. She crawled out from under him, grabbing her discarded shirt off the floor, striding towards the door.

In alarm, Keefe popped off the bed, running over to her, scattering the petals of her carpet. "Foster—"

She didn't listen, pulling her shirt over her head and tugging it down on her body. Keefe took the distraction to jump in front of her, blocking her way to the door. "As much as I'm enjoying how sexy you sound and look during this whole Foster Rage Fest, I really don't think that's a wonderful idea."

She rolled her eyes at his comment, but her face bloomed with heat. "Why not?" she bit back.

"Because I'd rather my girlfriend not get charged for murder?" Keefe suggested, only half-playfully. Sophie looked pretty fucking serious about what she was saying, and it was kind of scaring him.

"Well I'd rather my boyfriend's dad not be fully deserving of murder, but here we are." She stepped forward, clearly daring him to not get out of her way, and he sighed. "I don't wanna fight with you on this, Foster."

"Then move," she ordered, body bristling and gaze stern.

For once Keefe was extremely happy that her pathfinder wasn't in the room. Her façade faltered for a second as she glared, body shuddering. She locked her jaw tight, not allowing her teeth to chatter.

Keefe frowned. "Sophie, come here."

At first he feet stayed pinned on the spot, but her fists unclenched slowly. She blinked steadily, meeting his gaze. He nodded.

With a huff she walked straight to him, wrapping her arms around him. A smile flickered on his lips and he embraced her, rubbing warm and soft circles on her back. "Sophie, let's just stay in tonight, okay?" he requested gingerly, pulling back just enough to kiss her forehead.

Sophie was holding him so loosely like she was afraid he would bend and snap with any touch. But butterflies erupted in her stomach at his lips pecking to her forehead and he smiled softly, proud that he was the only one that could make her feel that way.

"You think you're gonna soften me up by calling me Sophie and kissing my head," she accused, pouting.

"Is it working?"

". . .Kinda."

Keefe chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and moving to kiss her temple. Keefe's hands moved to her waist as he pulled her flush against him. Sophie gasped lightly, a spike of fear erupting in her chest. She was clearly concerned about hurting him and it set his heart on fire, knowing how much she cared.

After kissing her other temple, he migrated to brushing his lips over her eyelids, leaving feathery kisses everywhere she'd allow. Nose, cheekbone, the arc of her eyebrow, chin, jaw, the corner of her mouth.

Sophie blushed softly throughout it all, the corner of her mouth slightly twitching. Keefe smiled back at her as he paused his kisses for a second, and after a spell her hint of a smile washed away.

She glanced down, placed her hands cautiously on his bare chest, allowing her fingertips to begin tracing ginger patterns on his skin. The sight of her taking the flesh of her lower lip in between her teeth and proceeding to chew drove him mad. She caught his eyes again, gazing up at him. "Are you sure you don't want me to do anything?"

Keefe slipped his hands under her shirt, fingers teasing the strip of bare back where her shirt had ridden up, eliciting a breathy sound between a sigh and a gasp from Sophie. "I'd like for you to come back to bed so we can finish what we started."

That made her giggle. "Oh no, Mr. One Track Mind. We are going to eat, take separate cold showers if need be, watch a Disney movie, and then we're going to curl up and go to sleep."

"Or we could take a bath together," he suggested, smiling.

Sophie shook her head, blushing wildly. "You are. . ." She couldn't finish her sentence, biting her lower lip again. Keefe watched as she turned away for a second, trying to get control of the colour on her face.

Finally she turned back, straightening her posture. "Okay," she agreed. "Let's try that."

"Wait, wha— You're agreeing with me? With that?"

Sophie smiled brighter, her face flushing pink. "I know. Wild, right?" She pulled away, out of his arms, taking his hand as she began taking steps backwards. She tugged, urging him forward. "Well? Better hurry up before I change my mind."

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