Quix's Random Bullshit Thread (Comments Welcome)

Kyle allowed the events of that night, and the murder of Adam Hunter to sink to the back of his conscious as they spoke in Zai's kitchen, It had been an age since he'd last entered someone elses home as a friend, and even longer since he'd conversed with a woman on a personal level. Not that there hadn't been approaches, however, Kyle despised humanity, and preferred to deal with his demons alone. That was the only way he'd known how to survive, in isolation, however Azairah brought out the desires for human contact and understanding that had been buried deep in his heart. The murderess and the murderer, two dark, lonely, desperate people, but together, possibly so much more.

He'd shocked himself with the ability to laugh out loud, and also desired more of that. Zai attracted Kyle, both physically and mentally as no other had except his childhood sweetheart, Amy, with her intelligence, looks, personality, newly discovered sense of humour, and the yearnings she possessed that allowed her to take human life. The marks and scars that adorned her skin only helped to increase her uniqueness, and told their own tale. One that the Army Veteran was now a part of, and would help Azairah finish. "If I didn't know better, I'd accuse you of flirting, Ms D'Amici," he replied with a grin. The Army veteran took in every part of her face in a manner that he hadn't previously before he realised that he was staring like a man smitten, and swiftly averted his gaze.

Even the tone of her voice entranced him, and he sat in mostly silence when they moved to the sofa, with a look of interest and curiosity on his face as they drank, and she talked. Kyle only interrupted here and there to clarify a comment, or to ask a question, but offered no judgements on her situation, nor did he offer false sympathy. They were both aware that the other was damaged, and it was enough to just sit and listen. When she was done, he had learned much about Zai, and it was his turn to share.

Kyle spoke of his own childhood; the alcoholic father, and a Mother who'd deserted him as a child; the decision to join the Army to escape his home; Amy his childhood sweetheart, the only woman he'd ever loved; and revealed details of his service in Iraq that he'd only ever spoken of to the Military Psychologists. How he'd watched as innocent civilians; men. women and children alike; were torn to shreds by mortar shells and how the Government had justified that with the phrase, Collateral damage. The end justified the means.

He told of his return and the time spent in Hospital, and of how his claims of suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder had been summarily rejected, and he'd been discharged without any right to ongoing medical or financial support; shunned and abandoned by the Government that he'd freely offered up his life for. Then, lastly, he’d relayed how, when he'd attempted to reconcile with his estranged, but still legal wife, she'd mocked him by laughing in her face, and confessed she was pregnant to another man. He'd left the city that day, to never return, and the first murder had occurred a week later.

All of his words were issued without anger or frustration, and with complete honesty, accompanied by the thunderstorm outside. Flashes of lightning lit up Zai’s features and her warm-brown eyes, and his own rested upon the latter when he eventually silenced, and her lips parted to speak. "Can I trust you, Kyle?"

"You can trust me, Zai, you have my word.” Kyle’s gentleness belied the violence of the acts he was truly capable of, but not to her, not to Azairah. However, as if to she’d heard his response, the man was uncertain, for by the time the reply had slipped from his mouth, she’d fallen asleep. A warmth spread through every fibre of his being as he pulled the blankets tighter around them, and encircled Zai with his arms. He remained that way for the majority of the night, and just watched her sleep, and listened to her breathe, thankful that there were no nightmares. Only when dawn was about to break, did Kyle drift off.

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His eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name being spoken, and Kyle groaned and stretched on the sofa, confused for a moment, and thinking he must still be lost in a dream. Who called his name, where was he? Then it all flooded back as his brain fully awoke, and he swiftly kicked the covers off, and stood. His clothes were rumpled, and still the same he’d worn the previous night to the club as he looked across to Zai.

"Morning. I can smell breakfast from a mile away, and you wouldn't dare eat without me," Kyle replied as he approached her in the kitchen. "However, the first stop is always caffeine.” The man glanced around the unfamiliar kitchen, and then shot her a shrug as he halted, and leaned against the counter. "I'd offer to help, but I don't know where anything is, so how about I just sit back, and watch you display your culinary skills. Rumour has it you're expert with a knife." His dark humour displayed yet another side to the man. "Hope you slept well?"

The comment was a subtle way of attempting to gauge her thoughts, both of the murderous act she'd perpetrated, and, just as importantly now, how she felt about having spent the night in his arms. Kyle arched a brow before his eyes drifted to the television set with the recollection of Adam Hunter, then he refocused on Azairah, and spoke of what else had been on his mind during the night. "I’m considering quitting my job to embark on a road-trip, and thinking that you could accompany me."

From the time he'd first determined to assist her in gaining revenge on Cole Douglas and his cohorts, he'd contemplated how that could best be achieved, and concluded that it couldn't be from Eden; not if they wished to take them all down before they captured. No, they'd need to do it from afar, where they could sneak in to snatch a victim, then disappear back into the ether before returning for their next. "That's if you have no regrets, and are keen to continue?”