Gut Reaction Characters: Meg and Kyle Setting: Kyle's room, morning
Despite being up stupidly late, Meg had actually woken earlier than she had in days and although she felt distinctly sleep deprived, her thoughts were much clearer than they had been the day before. She wasn't about to make any overreaching claims of being mentally or emotionally stable but she had a purpose in mind, a direction she was planning to move in and for the time being it was enough anchor her in the here and now.
The new perspective, flawed as it arguably was, also meant she was finally grounded enough to engage again with other people so when she got the message from Kyle and realised how much she'd not been there for him, how much she'd missed him, she didn't waste any time.
Looking more presentable than she had since Dom's removal, which granted didn't amount to much but it was clear some effort had been made, she headed round to Kyle's room with a small makeshift bundle tucked under one arm, following the path around the courtyard rather than trekking through the mud then knocking on the door.
Kyle had made himself go and take a shower and generally not sit around moping. After all, he had no definite answer and, even if he did, there was nothing to be gained from letting himself go there. He felt proud of himself for taking what he considered to be positive steps - not overreacting, contacting Meg, getting together with her. It felt a mile away from the insane drama that had been his reaction to the idea of testing, but this was different. This hadn't actually been caused by him. At least, he didn't think so. Whatever was going on, even Kyle would have a hard time blaming himself for leandro's apparent disappearance. He would just miss the guy.
He opened the door quickly when the knock came, having been waiting for meg to arrive. He was presentable - showered, with a fitted t-shirt, jeans and a shirt. his room looked like the organised chaos it always did, with barely any room to move. The only truly clear space was his desk chair, the area immediately around his computer, and his bed. The rest was set up for his work, half finished canvases, tubes of paint, brushes in various stages of drying and stained cloths littering every surface. "Hi - how're you doing?" he asked, as usual putting his own issues aside for someone else's.
It was an odd thing to like but Meg appreciated the organised chaos that was Kyle's room, liked how it was such a reflection of his personality and gave a crooked little smile as he opened the door and a scent of paint wafted out to meet her. "Hey," she replied, hefting her bundle further to the side so she could give him a one armed hug. "I'm doing...alright I guess." Which as a reply somehow managed to be both kind of true and arguably a lie. "Not lookin' to talk too much 'bout me today tho." She pulled back and looked up at him. "You wanna talk bout how you're doing?"
Kyle returned the hug and then stepped back into the room so she could come in. He was determined to not feel petty and bitted about the fact that she was asking now, when things were much better than they had been then. Even if then had only been a couple of days away. She had had her own issues to deal with and he had other people he could lean on in the meantime. She was here now and that was the important thing. He hadn't felt comfortable approaching anyone else about this just yet. Hell, if he told Adam, the guy would probably throw a party.
"I'm okay, really - just... Confused? I don't even know. I mean, I keep wondering if I'm actually overreacting. I'm not in that kind of a way, but just... I'm determined I'm not going to have any kind of freakout unless and until I have some kind of confirmation that he's actually gone. Then I'll work out how I'm going to react. Because, I might be wrong? Maybe he's just moved or something. Maybe I should just message him and see if he replies. Maybe there's something else and I'm... Overreacting," he said, realising he was about to let himself run away with himself. He took a deep breath and sat down primly on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees. he looked up at Meg. "I'm fine. Really."
Really Meg wasn't the kind of person to give advice and even if she were, she doubted it'd would actually do anyone any good to listen to her given the distinctly downward spiral that was her life. She could listen though and that's what she was determined to do as long as Kyle wanted to talk, claiming the computer chair as her seat, bundle in her lap, as he began to speak. His little spiel wasn't the easiest thing in the world to follow but she got the gist of what he was saying, nodding at the sentiments she was all too familiar with. "Don't sound like you're overreacting to me," she offered when he finally stopped to me. "Hell, sides from the fact you're talkin' so fast, I'd say you're being a damn sight calmer than a lotta folk would. Being smart about it." She was less than convinced by his assertion about being fine however, eyebrow raising when his eyes met hers. "You sure bout that? Cause you don't really look fine, talking as someone who sees a whole lot of not-fine in the mirror these days." Her tone wasn't accusing as she said it though, instead an unspoken invitation for him to go on if he wanted to and a promise not to judge him for it either way.
Kyle arched an eyebrow up at her. "I slept outside an elevator last night. On the floor. Without a blanket. Or a pillow. I think I would be more surprised if I did look fine. I'm not the kind of person who is designed for roughing it," he told her.
Raising an eyebrow right back, the corner of Meg’s mouth twitched up in faint amusement. “Wow, you really know how to have a good time don’tcha Kyle?” she said, rolling with it - if he didn’t want to talk about the Leandro situation anymore, she wasn’t going to push him. “Can’t say I’m totally shocked to hear roughin’ it isn’t gonna be a thing of yours mind.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re totally flabberghasted. You know, I ended up spending the time with a woman whose husband’s idea of a good time and ‘male bonding’ was hunting in the woods with his pals.” He rolled his eyes and smiled slightly. “Which... I understand that people like that kind of thing. I just never got why.” It was tantamount to the fact he wasn’t on top of his game that it didn’t occur to him that maybe Meg would get that.
“It’s an acceptable excuse to go out and kill shit?” Meg offered, idly shrugging a shoulder. It wasn’t something she’d actually had much exposure to herself, the men in her life being limited to Dom who’d never expressed an interest in that kind of thing and her father and his friends who preferred getting drunk and going to strip clubs over anything that involved actual effort on their part. “I dunno really. I mean I get hunting if you’re planning to eat it after but the guys that do it for sport?” She shook her head, the appeal lost on her entirely.
“Right,” Kyle agreed, though he then qualified, “Well, I’m a vegetarian, so I can’t be on board with the whole killing for food thing, but even still, I could probably more understand that. But well, yeah - that was my night last night. Not exactly what I have planned, but I suppose I should be used to having exactly no control over my own life by now.” If felt worse right now though, when he had begun to feel like he was clawing a life back for himself.
“Oh god, you ain’t one of those preachy vegetarians who’s gonna give me a hard time every time I have a burger are you?” she asked, wrinkling her nose up slightly. She was a big believer in people doing whatever floated their own boat but drew the line at people trying to tell her what to do. Kyle’s comment about control however had her expression turning somber and she edged forward on the chair to rest her hand on his knee. “They ain’t got control of everything Kyle. Most things yeah but not all.” It was an oddly optimistic thing for her to say but the conviction with which she said it and the quiet desperation that ran beneath it made it clear it wasn’t an empty platitude on her part.
Kyle considered that for a moment. “If the only thing I have control over in my life is whether you eat that burger dripping with dead animal or not, maybe I will become all preachy,” he said, though there was a light twinkle in his blue eyes that said he didn’t actually mean his words. “But generally, no - I don’t preach. And... Maybe they don’t control everything, but when they can just make people disappear... I realised as I messaged you first thing that I’d thought I understood? What you went through when they took Dom? But I didn’t - not at all.”
Meg may have had a better grip on what was going on in her head but hearing Kyle talk so easily about Dom being taken, even if it was coming from a new point of understanding on his part, still knocked her off kilter and its was a few moments before she was able to speak again, briefly lost in memory. “Even if you didn’t, you were there for me when there weren’t no-one else,” she said when she came back to herself, voice quiet but not so much that the gratitude in it was lost. “And now it’s my turn to be here for you, even if it’s just the two of us bitching about the fuckers in charge.”
Kyle smiled sadly and shook his head. “Lee was - he wasn’t like you and Dom. I mean... You guys were married. He and I... It was all really just potential. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was really looking forward to potential, but still... I guess I have to figure that maybe he’ll just be the one that got away.”
“Just cause you two weren’t like Dom and me don’t mean it ain’t a loss,” she pointed out.. “What’s that thing they say, you regret more the stuff you didn’t do or get to do more than the stuff you did?”
“So, he’ll always be perfect... Well, not perfect. I don’t think the guy was ever perfect - but he was...” Kyle thought about that and laughed to himself, chuckling as he recalled something. “A total fanboy for you,” he said with a grin.
That did make Meg smile though it was more due to seeing Kyle like that than what he was saying. “Yeah I kinda got that impression when I met him,” she said with a small huff of amusement. “Did you guys talk about me then? Oh god, he wasn’t creepy was he?” He hadn’t given off the creepy vibe when they’d spoke, more stupidly enthusiastic and kinda weird but it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d read someone wrong.
“No, we didn’t talk about you - not that much. Just enough to make me realise that he’d kinda... You know. Followed you or whatever. After that... I wasn’t going to share any of the stuff we talk about, so I didn’t encourage it. And then we sort of found other things that we needed to discuss. Working a few things out. He wasn’t creepy. Just... A little confusing at times, until we got on the same page. Of course, then everything went to shit pretty quickly,” Kyle admitted.
Feeling relieved on a couple of different levels, she bobbed her head in understanding only for his last comment to give her pause. “Went to shit?” she queried, his turn of phrase making her think he wasn’t just refer to Leandro being taken away.
“Yeah, went to shit,” Kyle confirmed, shaking his head. “You know, my overly dramatic phase that had everyone that concerned about my wellbeing? It was when it suddenly hit home - a hell of a lot later than it reasonably should have done that being... Me. In prison. For a year. Trying to make it through. Meant that maybe I’d picked a few things up on the way through. And that the reasonable and sensible thing was to get tested. And that my views on that outcome of that and his views on the outcome of that didn’t exactly tally and... yeah. Went to shit.”
Having always been a ‘say it like it is’ kind of person, it took Meg a moment to pick up on the stuff Kyle wasn’t saying and then when it did... “Ooooh,” she said, feeling a little on the dumb side. “Yeah, I can see how that could be a pretty awkward...pile of shit. Sorry.” A great orator she was not. Another thought then occurred to her and she couldn’t not ask, worry quickly clouding her face and overtaking the embarrassment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah - yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Kyle reassured her, quickly. “I got my results yesterday and they were clear.” He smiled a little, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You know the ironic thing? When I was waiting, when I didn’t know? I pushed him away. And when I told him my results, he said that he’d thought that if I’d been positive, I just would have never spoken to him again. That I would have cut him out of my life. And now... He’s gone. Cut out anyhow. Regardless.”
As much as she considered him a friend, Meg really didn’t know Kyle well enough to comment on his actions and knew Leandro even less. That and having been so out of the loop the past few days that she’d missed pretty much everything that had happened between the two of them, she wasn’t sure what she could say that wouldn’t sound utterly pointless so she settled for crossing the small gap between them and hugging him again. “That’s not your fault Kyle, it’s those dicks in charge playing whatever the hell they call this game of theirs they’re passing of as rehabilitation.”
He returned the hug, lightly. “Honeypie - I know this isn’t my fault.” This, at least, he was certain wasn’t. “But it still sucks.”
Right, of course it isn’t. Way to project Megan. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know why I said that, you’re smarter than all that self-blame crap,” she said, pulling back from him. “Guess I was trying to....I don’t know. I’m no good at this kind of thing”. Clearly.
Kyle took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I totally only take the blame for things that are actually my fault,” he said, looking her in the eye. He was serious, even though he was giving her a mock-serious look. “And nobody expects you to be good at this kind of thing. Nobody expects that any of us would have to actually deal with this kind of thing.”
“I was talking about giving advice, trying to be a friend,” she replied ruefully. “Like you say, I think we get a pass on the other stuff on account of this place being like like if Willy Wonka gave up on chocolate and decided to try his hand at running a prison. You wait, any day now there’s gonna be creepy dwarves with too much fake tan popping up and singing about community or whatever shit they’re trying to get us to swallow.”
“If that happens, I am gonna be first in line to see you dancing around with golden eggs demanding parties with ice cream. Unless you’d prefer to chew gum and turn purple?” he suggested, trying to keep things lighthearted. “But, I know - I know what you meant. But giving advice, that suggests that you have some kind of handle on the situation. This situation is so far off the cards - not even the best advice-giver in the world could be expected to know what to say right here and now.”
Meg snorted. “I’ll take chewing gum and turning purple thanks, I always wanted to slap the shit outta that rich girl,” she replied, offering Kyle another crooked smile, grateful that he seemed happy to just roll with it, that he understood her failed attempt and didn’t hold it against her that it had failed. “I dunno, I kinda like the idea of hearing what Doctor Phil might have to say about all this. Him or Jerry - either one.”
“Because they always gave such good advice and weren’t just out for sensationalism and ratings at all,” Kyle deadpanned. “Face it, kiddo - we’re on our own and there’s shit we can put forward that actually is gonna help anything.” He rolled his head back and stared at the ceiling. “God but that’s a depressing thought.” He looked back at her. “You choose your magical keep or throw yet?” he asked her.
“Oh no, they were all about helping their fellow Americans,” she said, matching his tone before flopping back into the chair, pulling one of her legs up beneath her. He was right though, more than he probably realised - help wasn’t coming from anywhere except themselves. At his question, she rolled her eyes and, reaching down for her bundle, began tugging free the knot she’d put in it. “You mean the Big Brother, Survivor bullshit? I did it earlier before I got your message. You and this girl Mojo to stay, Unicorn to go. What about you?” she asked.
“You and Adam to stay - which wasn’t that much of a push. Brady to go - but only because I haven’t met everyone and out of the ones I have, he rubbed me up the wrong way most. Pretty much, I think he’s a dick,” Kyle admitted, even whilst he knew that some of that was probably him. “Which reminds me - I have a load of ratings I haven’t sent to you, if you’re still interested? I stopped because it didn’t seem to be, well - it kind of seemed pretty insensitive, all things considered, and I’m not that much of a bitch.”
“‘s a good a reason as any,” Meg pointed out, not questioning Kyle’s opinion on this Brady character having come to trust his take on their fellow inmates almost as much as her own. Still she found herself shaking her head at his offer to share his ‘findings’, appreciating his sentiment for not having already done so. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I mean if there’s anyone you reckon should be avoided then lemme know but otherwise.” She shook her head again.
Kyle shook his head. “Who’s the unicorn?” he asked, frowning slightly. He had been trying to work that one out, but was coming up a blank. It rang a bell, but he doubted he was truly on top of his game today.
“Becka,” she replied. “Dom gave her the nickname unicorn on account of...” Meg trailed off, belatedly remembering that the reason why probably wasn’t common knowledge and even if the other girl and Kyle were friends, she’d kind of said she’d keep it to herself.
“On account of what?” Kyle asked, curiously, though he winced. “Did you two really get on that badly?” he asked. After all, it had been him who had encouraged Becka to talk to Meg. He’d known that Becka didn’t think things had gone that badly, but if Meg was choosing her out of all to leave then clearly it really had.
Meg didn’t miss Kyle’s reaction and was quick to shake her head. “Nah, ‘s not that,” she told him. “Though she coulda caught me at a better time y’know?” She shrugged. “Just somethin’ she said stuck with me, how she ain’t looking for no second chance, missing her family ‘n’ all that. The girl don’t need a program like this.”
That surprised Kyle. “So... You think she should leave, what? For her own good?” he asked, wanting to understand that. He felt a little guilty as he realised it was easier to believe that Meg would hold a grudge than that she would be altruistic.
“Maybe,” she replied. “A girl like her don’t belong in prison full stop, let alone the clusterfuck that is this place but what I meant was...This whole ‘new life’ thing they’re talking about, new identity, way I read that is you don’t get to go back. For someone like me with nothin’ to go back for...” There she stopped for a moment, swallowing the lump that was threatening to form in her throat. “...For me, no big deal. But unicorn, she’s got family and friends that give a shit, you see where I’m going with this?”
He did see where she was going with that. He understood completely. “And - where do you see me?” he asked. He was curious. He had thought about it himself. He had touched on it with Leandro. What the future may hold for him. He would just be interested to see how she saw him.
“You?” Meg echoed, giving him a thoughtful look before a small smile started pulling at her mouth. “Europe maybe? They get art over there, figure you take all this...” She waved her arm at the collection of materials that littered the room. “Make a name for yourself as the next big thing.”
He smiled at that. “Europe, huh? That could work,” he mused, tipping his head back a little in faux-thought. “Strange, isn’t it - you say you have nothing to go back for. Becka has everything to go back for. Me - I feel like I could be me anywhere.”
Meg’s smile took on a wry edge. “Different people, different lives,” she said, claiming a pencil from the edge of the desk which she then proceeded to twist around her fingers. “‘s a good thing though I reckon, being able to be you regardless. Certainly can’t imagine you being much different to what you’re like now wherever you end up.”
He pulled a bit of a face at that. “Yeah...” he agreed, though it was far from enthusiastic. That only lasted a moment though before he shook himself out of it, sitting up straighter and looking back at her. “Yes - that’s me. Going to be me, wherever I end up,” he said, determinedly. “And nothing is going to change that from now on. No matter what happens - and no matter what curve balls they throw at us.”
“Good on you New York,” Meg replied, smiling properly at seeing the determination on Kyle’s face, reminded of their first meeting and the ballsy attitude he’d taken with her. It was good to see.
“Positive mental attitude, right?” he joked. “And if I end up in Europe, then you better damn well come visit me. Or be a neighbour or something.” He paused, looking at her. “Though - don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t see you being comfortable there.”
Meg didn’t want to bring his good mood down by pointing out that, as far as she was concerned, she was unlikely to ever get out of prison, regardless of what the program they were in promised them. “Well I’ve always wanted to go to Europe, figure it wouldn’t be no hardship stopping by wherever you end up for a visit.” Kyle’s finally comment had her raising her eyebrows though and she leant towards him, resting her elbows atop her leg. “And why pray tell is that?”
Kyle mirrored the position, crossing his legs and pursing his lips. “Well,” he drawled. “You don’t strike me as someone who plays the game too well,” he said, choosing his words carefully. He was aware that what he was saying, if put wrongly, could come across as being offensive, and he didn’t mean it that way. “I was brought up in the game. The whole New York set thing. Europe can be like that - it’s more like that in more places. You - you don’t take shit from people and you don’t mind telling them exactly what you think of them. That doesn’t always go down too well, which is fine and all, from time to time - but to try and live twenty-four seven in that environment? You’d get pissed off very quickly.”
It was a sign of just how much she liked Kyle that Meg actually sat and listened to all of what he had to say instead of flying off the handle at the first sign that she was being, potentially, insulted. “So,” she said slowly once he had finished. “You’re basically telling me Europe’s too refined for my Hicksville USA ass?”
“I’m saying there’s a whole lot of people in the world that are so far up their own asses they never see daylight, and you aren’t the type of person that would play nice with them,” Kyle told her, suppressing a smile. He couldn’t help but picture her at the type of events he had gone to in his younger days. She’d cut through there like a damn tornado, leaving chaos in her wake.
She laughed at that and nodded in agreement. “No, I am not,” she admitted, giving a small bow of her head. “Christ, I remember when I met Dom’s parents...I swear there is no-one with a stick further up their ass than his mom. Seriously, the day I walked into her house I thought her head was gonna explode...”
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? I... Guess I never picture his family as that type,” he admitted. After all, he hadn’t really known Dom. He had wanted to get to know the guy, but there had only been a chance of minor interaction before he was taken, so he remained this shadowy, mystery figure.
“On account of the whole ending up on death row married to a girl like me thing?” she said bluntly, smile taking on that crooked edge again. Not that she would blame him for thinking so, the press certainly had. People from a world like that, the five percent of whatever bullshit term they used for the stupidly rich, they didn’t go to prison for going on crime sprees with white trash girlfriends. In that regard like so many others, Dom had been utterly unique.
“Ending up on death row yeah,” Kyle admitted. “Not going to pass judgement on the ‘married to a girl like you’ - Hell, I could imagine my parents’ opinions if I had ever taken someone like Leandro home. Still, my parents’ judgement was made pretty clear when I pleaded guilty to murder, so...” That still stung. When he realised that it wasn’t the ‘murder’ part of it they couldn’t deal with. It had been the ‘pleading guilty’ part. As if they would have been fine with it, if he had just tried his hardest to get off.
“I didn’t know that,” Meg replied, a touch of surprise colouring her features. She knew why Kyle was there, he’d told himself, but it was the first she’d heard about him pleading guilty. “But that sucks about your parents. Dom’s folks were assholes but they were there in their own deeply fucked up way. Kept trying to petition for a retrial, blamed the whole thing on me.”
“Oh - in that I think probably my parents and Dom’s parents were on the same page. They didn’t want their precious boy in jail. Neither did mine. And if there was jail time? Then the fault had to lay somewhere else. With his parents - it was you. With mine? It would have been a miscarriage of justice. Or, actually, if I would have played the game, the insanely priced lawyer would have gotten me off.” He smiled, and pulled that innocent face he was so good at. “I mean, look at me - do I look like the kind of guy would would hurt a fly? Or be involved in anything shady? No, I don’t. So, they will never forgive me for stepping up and actually taking the blame for something. Even though it was the right thing to do. Even though I had to fight that damn lawyer every step of the way. But at least I can sleep at night now.”
Although she laughed a little at Kyle’s innocent face, Meg couldn’t help but be a little impressed with what he’d done the choices he’d made. Sure there was some disbelief that he didn’t take the out when he’d had it but then she’d grown up around ex-convicts, raised by a man who spent talked about prison like it was both the worst fate in the world and some twisted badge of honor. “Is that why you pleaded guilty?” she asked, curious as to what he would say “‘Cause you felt you should do time?”
“I was responsible for someone’s death,” Kyle told her, seriously. It was clear that he felt strongly about this. “Someone died because of what I did. And I couldn’t live with myself if I had just walked away and got on with my life. So, when the police didn’t seem to care, or be looking in my direction, I took matters into my own hands. I took responsibility for my actions and the courts gave me a prison sentence for it. Which, yes, I felt - I feel - like I deserve. But... I’m glad that I’m not having to serve out the whole of it in mainstream prison,” he admitted. “I - It was harder than I ever imagined it would be there. I lost myself and I did things I wasn’t proud of. Here - I’m better here.”
As he explained his reasoning, Meg was struck by just how unlike Kyle’s outlook on things was to anyone else she’d known, how differently his moral compass swung. For certain she had pleaded guilty to her own crimes but it hadn’t been out of any kind of moral obligation or a need to take responsibility - she and Dom had intended to die that night in Alabama so when they’d survived and finally made it to trial, there seemed little point in denying anything. “You’re a rare breed Kyle,” she told him, crossing to the bed and sitting next to him. “I’m glad you ended up somewhere like this.” If he wanted to do his penance then fair enough, that had been his choice, but the thought of him in regular prison didn’t sit well with her even without his comments about what it had been like for him there.
He bumped shoulders with her a little. “Me too. Just as long as I never go back. I’d do almost anything to make sure I never have to go back.” He looked across at her, biting his bottom lip and feeling a little guilty. “Is it terrible that one of the reasons I want to know what happened to Lee is to see whether he was sent back? Because if it happened to him, then it could happen to me and I don’t want that. I mean - that’s not like the only reason I’m worried about him or anything, not at all, but... Yeah.”
She shook her head, hoping to reassure him. “So long as it’s not the only reason, an’ from the way you’re talking I know that ain’t the case, then no, ‘s not terrible.” Granted she probably wasn’t the best person to ask that kind of question of given her own skewed sense of morality but he asked for her opinion and in her eyes, Kyle’s feelings were totally understandable. “If anything it’s smart. There’s been at least one other person come and go without them upstairs, or wherever the fuck they’re watching us from, telling us anything - makes sense to question it if you ask me.”
“It’s not the only reason,” Kyle confirmed. “I want to make sure he’s okay as well.” He knew better than to hope that the other man would be back, and he wasn’t going to fool himself by thinking that was a possibility. Not that he would ever, ever say that to Meg. He knew she was holding out hope that Dom would one day return, but that was an entirely different situation.
Meg understood that need even if their situations were different; whenever her thoughts turned to Dom, which was often, as much as the circumstances of his removal were prominent, it was little things like wondering how he was doing and whether he’d made friends wherever he was like he had so easily with Carmel that stuck with her. She wasn’t enough of an optimist to tell Kyle she thought for sure Leandro was okay but she did reach for his hand to squeeze it. “I hope so,” she said quietly.
He returned the squeeze and was quiet for a moment, before deciding that he was bordering on becoming morose and he had promised himself that that was not going to happen. “Thanks - for listening to me. You were kinda the first person I wanted to turn to. I mean - if I’d have told Adam, the guy probably would have wanted to celebrate. They never got on too well. Which is probably putting it mildly. I felt like I was going to be stuck in the middle, always trying to defend one to the other.”
“Not a problem,” she told him, flashing a small smile. Really, as far as she was concerned, it was the least she could do considering how much Kyle had been there for her. As he talked about Adam and Leandro, her smile grew thoughtful as she recalled what she knew about the two men. “Yeah, I can see there bein’ a personality clash there. Guess that’s one good thing about this situation, you won’t get stuck between them no more.”
“I guess - never have to meet that day where one of them asked me to choose.” Which he could have predicted would happen eventually. “And neither of them have to risk being the one that asked me to do that, only to find themselves getting torn to shreds by yours truly,” he added, sweetly.
Meg nodded sagely in agreement. “It’d be carnage,” she mused, not doubting his ability on that front for a moment. “Grown men weeping, no-one needs to see that....Well granted it could be entertaining from a spectator point of view. You gotta love a good verbal smackdown.”
Kyle grinned at that. “Of course - though I always feel a little bad afterwards though. I can go kinda over the top with it when I’m angry. Not that it would have been unjustified anger in the first place, but...” He gestured to himself. “Overdramatic. It comes in all sorts of guises.”
“‘s not always a bad thing you know.” It was something she wasn’t exactly a stranger to herself and while it wasn’t often pleasant to behold, Meg was a big believer that in the right situation it could definitely be called for. “Sometimes things call for a little drama.”
“See, you get that. Which is what makes you awesome,” Kyle decreed.
Meg grinned. “Well duh,” she said in her best Valley Girl accent which, needless to say, wasn’t that great. “That’s just the top of the iceberg though sweetie.” With that she dropped the faux accent and reclaimed her bundle of ‘means with which to distract Kyle’, opening it to reveal the small collection of makeup she’d been given, nail varnish, two plain tops and a pair of scissors she’d claimed from the activity room days ago.
Kyle blinked as she opened up her little bundle, a slightly confused expression flitting over his face for a moment. “Aaaand what are we doing now?” he asked her, intrigued, the beginnings of a smile coming.
“Well...” she said, tipping out the contents onto the bed covers. “We’re kinda short on makeover supplies but if that idea floated your boat I figure we could make do or...” She picked up the shirts and held them up. “Customized shirts, you do mine, I do yours? Figure you’d probably have paint we could maybe use.”
Kyle snagged one of the shirts. “Customizing sounds great to me,” he said, his mind clearly already racing with ideas. He practically bounced off the bed and over to his desk, rooting around for various things, piling brushes and tubes of paint and other bits onto an empty space he had quickly cleared. He looked back at her over his shoulder. “Here or in the activity room?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling. Operation Distraction had clearly been an instant success.
Meg almost laughed at the instant effect her suggestion had on Kyle but settled for grinning as he became a flurry of activity, pleased he’d taken to her idea so well but even more so, it was the sight of seeing him so...happy. “Activity room I reckon,” she said, starting to gather up her small pile. “Think I saw some sewing stuff up there and ‘sides, I figure this place has got enough going on in it.”
Kyle grabbed a bag he’d snagged from the kitchen a few days back and swept his own pile into it. “Let’s go then,” he said, already heading for the door. God, but it was good to have friends who knew him.
“Yes sir,” she replied, not bothering to stop herself from laughing anymore as she threw him a vague salute, catching up the edges of her bundle and chasing after him.