So Far Away (stan x kyle)

Cutting Through the Fog

      Kenny had his mouth full of the tasteless, cheap bread that almost no one else dared to eat as he sat across from Kyle, alone at their cafeteria table. A quiet had hung in the air as Kyle shook off thoughts of Stan's tired eyes and sickly expression from that morning. His attempts at pushing Stan from his mind were rendered futile as Kenny broke the silence between them.

      "Hey, man, have you seen Stan?" he asks, words muffled through the school-distributed dinner roll. Kenny's piercings looked washed out in the dim, fluorescent cafeteria lighting, something Kyle had only noticed when he met his friend's eyes.

      A question for the ages, "Where's Stan?", a question Kyle often caught himself asking, one that Kyle was becoming so tired of asking. He thinks of Stan's cold hands, distant disposition, kind nature, gentle eyes, dreamy grin—Stupid, Kyle scolded himself in the disquiet of his mind, bitter regret dancing through his thoughts. You're so stupid. He felt ill.

      It's always been Stan. Even when it was Heidi or Rebecca, Stan was his constant. He didn't want to give that up for anything, even when Stan kept making his stomach churn and heart ache.

      "No, I haven't, not since fourth," Kyle responds half-heartedly, picking at his food that he didn't have the stomach to eat. Kenny gives him a familiar look, causing Kyle to groan and reluctantly shift his tray across the table to Kenny. They had a deal that if Kyle didn't want to eat the cafeteria lunches, whether from sheer disgust or an alleged lack of appetite, Kenny would get whatever was left. It was a fair deal, one that they've maintained since middle school—when Kyle first started skipping lunches.

      "Me neither," Kenny mumbles again, face once again stuffed with cheap food. "Do you think he..." he trails off as his striking violet eyes land on something behind Kyle. He swallows and waves, the drowsy redheaded boy not quite alert enough to turn and see what had stolen his friend's attention. Fortunately for him, the subject of Kenny's intrigue had saved Kyle the effort, seating herself at their table with a lunch tray in hand.

      "Hiya Fellas," she beams, messy blonde hair cut to her chin and framing her smile in the charming way it did.

      "Hey Marj," Kenny responds, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the scarlet stains across his face. "Where were you yesterday?"

      Kyle never paid much attention to Marjorine, especially not since they had begun to attend high school; yet, her sparkling cerulean eyes, contagious laugh, unconventional spontaneity and quirky nature—they made her impossible to truly overlook. His mind, fuzzed by lethargy, nearly wished he could have feelings for her. Something desperate and displaced dreamed to be dazzled by the smile of a beautiful girl, for sparks to fly and his heart to sing when their hands touch and eyes meet. It nearly wished for a girl to be the one that captivated him so effortlessly, for a girl to be the one that those alluring eyes and stupid smile belonged to. Kyle dug the side of his head into the surface of the table until it hurt enough to banish the thoughts from his mind. He always reminds himself that there's no use in dwelling on things that you can't control but it's never stopped him.

      "I-I was awfully sick with a fever," she admits sheepishly, softly touching the side of her neck as her eyes meet Kenny's.

      "Too bad, but it's good you're feelin' better," Kenny says, much more patient and sweet than he would ever be to anyone but Marj. He works up a false confidence, gently tugging at his earrings and fighting to keep his eyes on hers as he speaks. "So, do you wanna maybe hang out later? I have some free time after work that me and Tweek were planning on spending together... if you wanna tag along."

      "I would love to, Ken!" Marj starts with a hesitant smile. "But I'm grounded."

      "Again?" Kenny asks, failing to hide his lack of surprise. "What for?"