Chapter 6 - Keefe

Hola! This is Keefe's side of the convo. AND IM SORRY THAT SOPHIE AND FITZ ARE STILL TOGETHER! I promise u, soon they won't be! Anyway, hope u enjoy! Sokeefe 4 ever! - Viv

*Keefe's POV*

Keefe sat in the library, trying to focus on his homework, but his eyes kept drifting to Foster. She was sitting at a table near the window, a book open in front of her but not actually reading it. Her mind was elsewhere, just like it had been all week. It was the way she held herself, the way her shoulders were tense, that told him something was wrong.

He could see it clearly now. She was trying to hide it, but he knew better. She had that far-off look again. That same expression she wore whenever she was struggling with something she didn't want to talk about.

It was Fitz. Fitz was constantly hovering, always trying to protect her, acting like she was some fragile thing that needed saving. Foster wasn't fragile, though. Keefe had known her long enough to see that. She was strong, capable—way more than people gave her credit for. And Fitz just didn't see it. Or worse, he didn't care to.

Keefe could feel the frustration bubbling up inside him, but he didn't know what to do about it. He couldn't just ignore it. He couldn't let Foster sit there, feeling like she was suffocating under the weight of other people's assumptions.

So, after a moment of internal debate, Keefe decided. He was going to go over there. He wasn't going to just sit back and watch her struggle alone.

He stood up, took a deep breath, and started walking toward her table, his mind racing. Don't mess this up, Keefe, he told himself. But it didn't matter how many times he tried to convince himself it was a bad idea. It was too late now.

When he reached her, he paused for a second. Foster was staring at the book in front of her, her brow furrowed. She hadn't noticed him yet. But he couldn't let that stop him. She needed someone, and that someone was him.

"Foster."

She looked up, the same small, strained smile tugging at her lips. It made her look so much more alone than she really was.

"Keefe," she said quietly, the sound of her voice making his heart ache just a little.

"You're looking a little too serious today," he said, leaning against the table with his usual grin.

But it wasn't as lighthearted as it usually was. He wasn't feeling playful. He wasn't trying to be funny. He just wanted to break through whatever wall she'd built around herself.

"Got a secret mission going on, or are you just saving the world in your head?"

Foster didn't laugh. She didn't even react. Her eyes flickered down to the book in front of her, and Keefe noticed her posture stiffening. She was still holding herself back, still pretending like everything was fine.

"I'm fine," she muttered, but Keefe could see right through the lie. He didn't need her to tell him. He already knew.

"No, you're not," he said, his voice softer now, not teasing. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze searching hers. "I've known you long enough to know when something's off. Spill it, Foster. What's going on?"

Foster hesitated, her eyes flicking away from his. Keefe could practically see the wheels turning in her head, the decision to either keep it inside or to let him in. Finally, her voice came out low, almost a whisper. "It's just... Fitz."

Keefe's heart skipped a beat, and his stomach twisted. He already knew what this was about. It was always Fitz. That idiot. He opened his mouth to respond, but Foster beat him to it.

"It's not what he did," she said, her voice quiet, distant. "It's... the way he's acting. He's always trying to protect me, but it's like... like he doesn't think I can handle things on my own."

Keefe nodded, though his stomach was churning. He had seen it. The way Fitz always tried to keep her in this bubble, thinking she needed to be protected. Foster didn't need protection. She needed respect. She needed someone who saw her for what she was—a strong, capable person who didn't need to be coddled.

"I get it," Keefe said softly. "Fitz is a good guy, but sometimes... he doesn't see you the way you need to be seen. You don't need him to protect you, Sophie. You've always been strong enough to handle everything yourself."

Foster glanced up at him at the use of her first name, her eyes searching his, and Keefe could see the vulnerability there. She was so used to carrying the weight of everything on her own. It had always been that way for her.

"I don't know how to make him understand that," she said, her voice heavy with frustration. "How do I show him I don't need him to protect me all the time?"

Keefe reached across the table, his hand hovering just above hers, unsure of how much she was ready to let him in. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that she wasn't alone in this, that she didn't have to carry everything on her own. But he couldn't do it the way he wanted. Not yet.

"You don't have to tell him," Keefe said quietly. "Sometimes, showing someone is the best way. Show him that you've got this, that you can handle it on your own. You've been doing it your whole life, right?"

Foster's lips curved up into a small, grateful smile, though it was still tinged with sadness. "Yeah, I guess so," she said softly. "But everything just feels so complicated now."

Keefe's heart ached. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to make everything less complicated for her. But he couldn't. All he could do was be there for her, just like he always had been.

"You don't have to do it alone," Keefe said firmly. "I get that. But you don't have to do it alone. You've got me, Dex, Biana, Linh, heck even Bangs Boy! You don't have to carry everything on your own, Foster. We've got your back."

Foster met his gaze then, really met it, and Keefe felt his breath catch in his chest. He could see the flicker of something there. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make him feel like maybe, just maybe, she knew how much he cared.

"Thanks, Keefe," Foster said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "You always know what to say."

Keefe gave her a small, lopsided grin, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey, it's what I'm here for. To make things less complicated... and to keep you from turning into a total grump."

Foster's laugh was small, but it was real. It was the first time that day she'd sounded like herself.

"I guess you're right," she said, the tension in her shoulders starting to ease. "You do have a knack for lightening the mood."

Keefe leaned back in his chair, feeling a little less tense himself. "Guilty as charged," he said with a wink. "But seriously, Foster, you don't have to be perfect all the time. You're allowed to have moments when you need a little help."

Foster nodded slowly, her eyes softening. "I don't want to be a burden," she said quietly.

Keefe's heart tightened. "You're never a burden," he said firmly, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "You just need to let people in sometimes. It's okay to not have everything figured out."

Foster gave a small nod, and Keefe saw a flicker of something in her eyes—something like relief, or maybe even hope. He didn't know how things were going to play out with Fitz, but for now, this was enough.

"So, what now, Foster?" Keefe asked, trying to lighten the mood again. "Do we go back to pretending we're working, or are you ready to bail and grab something to eat?"

Foster smiled, the weight on her chest lighter than it had been all day. "I think I could use a break. But only if you promise not to steal all the snacks."

Keefe put a hand to his heart in mock offense. "I am offended, Foster. I would never—okay, maybe just mallowmelt."

Foster laughed as she stood up, "Sureeeeee" she replied.

Keefe followed her out of the library, a small smile on his face. He didn't have all the answers for her, and he didn't know what the future held. But as long as she had him, as long as she knew he was there, maybe that was enough, even if it means she'd never know how he really felt about her.