Talk:Book 7: Flashback/@comment-34840791-20180327000946

“Hey Foster, if your born deaf, what language do you think in?” Sophie glanced up, rolling her eyes at the sight of Keefe on his back with books sprawled all across his body, “Somehow I don’t think that has anything to do with the research your supposed to be doing.” Keefe grinned, his blond hair shimmering like gold in the light, “How do you know? Maybe I’m researching the struggle of deaf people?” “Your weird, you know that?” Keefe smirked, “But I thought,” he cleared his throat, lowering his voice into a perfect accent of Fitz, “we could all use a little more weird in our lives.” Sophie giggled, and threw the closest thing she could find-In this case Iggy’s favorite pillow and laughed as Keefe sat up, sputtering, “I think I’ve gone death by a lethal dosage of Iggy breath.” She crawled over to him and took the pillow away, “If you die, I’ll throw you a good funeral.” Keefe gasped suddenly, clutching his throat like he was choking, “Oh-Foster...I’m dying! And the only-cure...is CPR!” He gasped dramatically and collapsed on the floor, pretending to wheeze for breath. Sophie didn’t know why she did it, but before she could stop herself she leaned down and pressed her lips against his. Her whole body buzzed and she jumped back, covering her mouth as her cheeks flushed a dark red. Keefe sat up quickly, his cheeks were at least blushing to, “Huh, I was thinking of the other kind of CPR...but that works to. I guess I’m just to irresistible.” She threw the another pillow at him and bit her lip, not able to ignore the fluttering of her heart and the want to kiss Keefe again. She sputtered, she must be poisoned by Iggys breath to