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

tipsy sophie is so fun to write

Keefe's heart skipped a beat when he saw Sophie stumble out of the Neverseen base.

She was far from her usual, composed self. Her movements were slow, unsteady, and her eyes, typically so sharp and full of determination, were glazed over with a haze that made Keefe's stomach drop. He'd been worried about her, but this? This was something different.

"Sophie?" His voice was strained as he called her name, stepping forward to catch her before she could fall. Her face lit up with recognition, but it wasn't the normal warm, intelligent spark he was used to seeing. Instead, she grinned, an exaggerated smile spreading across her flushed face, and she giggled, swaying in his arms.

"Keefe!" she slurred. "You came for me! I didn't think... I didn't think you'd come..."

Keefe immediately took a step back, his hands bracing her gently. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with a growing sense of panic. "What happened, Sophie?"

She swayed again, and Keefe kept a tight grip on her, his mind racing. Sophie never acted like this. She never let herself get in a state like this. It didn't make sense.

"Sophie, did you—?" Keefe stopped himself mid-sentence, because he already knew the answer. She wouldn't drink. She'd never drink. Not in a million years. And yet, here she was, reeling with the unmistakable scent of alcohol.

But Sophie didn't drink. Not even a sip.

"Sophie," he repeated, his tone firm now, trying to get through to her. "Did they force you to drink? Did the Neverseen do this to you?"

Her head rolled back, a giggle escaping her lips as she swayed against him, leaning in closer. "I'm fine, Keefe!  But it's okay. I'm fine," she insisted, though her words lacked any kind of conviction. She wasn't fine. She wasn't fine at all.

Keefe's mind was whirling. Sophie wasn't drunk by choice. He knew that, deep in his gut. There was no way she would've willingly gone near alcohol, let alone drunk enough to be in this state. But the Neverseen? They were ruthless. He couldn't rule out the possibility that they'd slipped something into her drink or had manipulated her in some other way.

Before he could say anything more, Sophie leaned in suddenly, her lips crashing into his in an uncoordinated kiss. Keefe froze, her kiss clumsy and unrefined, but there was something undeniably real about it. He kissed back for a moment. Her lips were warm, soft, and he could taste the remnants of alcohol on her—sharp, bitter, and overpowering.

It took a moment for Keefe to react, his mind still processing everything, before he gently pulled away. His breath hitched as he stared at her, trying to make sense of what was happening. She didn't seem to understand why he'd stopped, her eyes blinking slowly, confusion settling over her features.

"Sophie," he said again, this time softer, his voice barely a whisper. "You didn't drink this, did you?"

Her hands were still gripping his shirt, pulling herself closer to him, her face pressing into his chest. Keefe could feel the weight of her emotions, the vulnerability seeping through every word she spoke. She didn't even realize what she had just said, but Keefe did.

"I love you!" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke the words, the energetic tone not leaving her. She didn't even seem to notice what she had said, but Keefe's heart nearly stopped.

Sophie had never said anything like this before. She had always been composed, guarded, never giving away too much of herself. But now, here she was, drunk, disoriented, and raw in a way that Keefe had never seen. She was being honest in a way that people only were when they couldn't control their impulses.

But was it the alcohol talking? Was she being truthful?

Keefe stood there, his arms around her, trying to process everything. He could feel the pull between them, that undeniable connection that always existed, but this? This was too much, too soon. Sophie was in no state to make any kind of confession, no matter how real it felt in the moment.

"Sophie, listen to me," Keefe said gently, his hands brushing through her hair as he steadied her. "You're drunk right now. You're not thinking clearly. I need you to trust me when I say this: we're not talking about this now."

She seemed to nod against his chest, though her grip on him tightened. "Awww, why??" she asked, her voice so quiet it almost broke him. "I love youuu"

Keefe's chest tightened at the rawness in her voice. He could feel the fear, the longing, and something else buried deep beneath the surface. "I'm not going anywhere, Sophie," he whispered, his voice steady. "I'm right here. But you need to get some rest, okay? We'll talk when you're sober."

Sophie mumbled something incoherent, but Keefe could feel the weight of her emotions pressing down on him. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol talking or something deeper, but whatever it was, Keefe knew one thing for sure: Sophie needed him right now, and he wouldn't leave her. Not like this.

They stood there for a long time, Keefe holding her close, trying to process everything that had just happened. Sophie might not know what happened, but he did. The Neverseen had done something to her, manipulated her into a state of confusion, and now Keefe had to figure out how to protect her from whatever had been done.

But one thing was clear: this wasn't over. Whatever happened tonight, it had just set something in motion.

And Keefe was determined to make sure that Sophie would be okay, no matter what it took.