????? ?????~~ -- sokeefe oneshots

so im obsessed with bolding...

Keefe watched his girlfriend train, her knives and throwing stars hitting the dummy perfectly, over and over again with a ruthless precision that made even him a little uneasy. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead, her braid half-undone, stray strands of hair clinging to her flushed face. She was running on nothing but sheer determination now.

And she'd been at it for over 26 hours.

Keefe had noticed hours ago—of course, he had. He always noticed when something was wrong with her. But when she outright ignored Biana's suggestion to take a break, Dex's offer to bring her food, even Silveny's insistent transmissions, he knew things were bad.

That's why Keefe ditched Mr. Forkle's "very important" special empathy training session without hesitation and ran to find her, fully prepared to drag her away if he had to.

Now, standing at the edge of the training room, arms crossed, he let out a dramatic sigh. "Foster, you do know you're not an actual machine, right?"

She didn't answer. She just grabbed another knife and sent it flying straight into the dummy's heart like it had personally insulted her.

Keefe narrowed his eyes. Nope. This was getting ridiculous.

"Okay, that's it." He marched forward, swiping the remaining weapons from her hands before she could throw another. "Training's over, time to hydrate."

Sophie glared at him, breathing heavily. "Keefe, give those back."

"Uh, yeah, no. Not happening." He held up a bottle of water, shaking it slightly. "Drink."

She crossed her arms stubbornly, shifting on her feet. "I'm fine."

Keefe let out a very exaggerated gasp. "Fine? Foster, you look two seconds away from face-planting into the floor. Which would be funny—don't get me wrong—but I'd rather you just drink the water."

"I don't need it," she muttered, eyes darting away.

"Ohhh, so you want to make me the world's worst boyfriend by standing here and watching my incredibly stubborn girlfriend dehydrate herself into unconsciousness?" He put a hand to his heart. "Wow. Harsh."

She shot him a half-hearted glare. "That's not—"

"Okay, fine." Keefe smirked. "New deal: If you drink this, I'll tell you exactly what Fitz did last week that he's been begging me to keep secret."

That got her attention. Her eyes narrowed. "You're bluffing."

Keefe shrugged, grinning. "Maybe. Maybe not. But do you really wanna risk missing out on some very embarrassing Fitz tea?"

Sophie's shoulders slumped. She hesitated for a moment before snatching the bottle from his hands. "You're the worst."

Keefe beamed. "That's my girl."

He watched in satisfaction as Sophie finally lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long sip. He didn't say anything, not wanting to give her a reason to change her mind, but he felt some of the tension in his chest ease as she drank.

"See? Not so hard," he said when she lowered the bottle. "That's what normal, non-self-destructive people do."

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't being self-destructive."

Keefe raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Foster, you've been at this for twenty-six hours. No food. No water. No sleep. That definitely counts as self-destructive."

She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could get another word out, Keefe bent down and scooped her up into his arms, effortlessly lifting her bridal style.

Sophie let out a startled yelp. "Keefe!"

"Sleep," he ordered, adjusting his grip as he started walking.

She frowned and squirmed slightly, but he only held her tighter. "I'm not tired."

Keefe gave her a knowing look. "Mmhmm. That's why your eyelids are literally drooping right now?"

She huffed, crossing her arms. "Put me down, Keefe. I can walk."

"Nah." He smirked. "You've lost your walking privileges."

Sophie let out an exasperated sigh. "I—"

"Sleep," Keefe interrupted, again. "And I'll... take you on a date next week."

That made her pause. She glanced up at him, suspicious. "A real date? Not just one of your 'let's go bother Dex at the store' dates?"

"Hey!" Keefe feigned offense. "I put a lot of effort into those. But fine, a real date. Fancy stuff. Maybe even—brace yourself—matching outfits."

Sophie let out a tired laugh. "Fine," she muttered, finally giving in.

Curled up against his chest, she closed her eyes, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. Within seconds, her breathing slowed, her body relaxing into his arms.

Keefe glanced down at her, softening. She really had pushed herself too hard.

He carried her through the halls, careful not to jostle her as he made his way to her room. Once inside, he gently set her down on the bed, tucking the blanket around her.

As he turned to leave, a small whisper stopped him in his tracks.

"...Don't leave me."

Her voice was barely audible, laced with exhaustion, but it made something tighten in Keefe's chest.

He hesitated for only a second before sighing and kicking off his shoes. "Yeah, yeah, I gotcha, Foster."

Sliding onto the bed beside her, he stayed. The whole night.

awww i loved this!