Kyle and Todd meet

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A/N Self indulgent lesbians that went way too far. No further comment.
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Kyle wasn't going to lie: it hurt.

Although she had never considered it her home in the first place, leaving London still stung like a bitch, to put it simply. She wasn't necessarily upset about leaving the area itself, moreso leaving the memories that constantly hung above her head. Memories of a certain someone.

She felt a twinge of oddity in her stomach as she turned around for the third time just to make sure that-- no, Gretal definitely wasn't sitting beside her. For once, thanks to her absence, Kyle's head was clear. But that didn't mean she liked it that way. She remembered the specific shade of pink that always stuck out in her peripheral vision when Gretal was beside her; the scent of that horrifically strong perfume- that Kyle swore smelt of expired rubbing alcohol more than anything else -hovering in the air; not to mention the warm hand that always somehow sneaked up into the crook of Kyle's arm that she always pulled away from. She wasn't so sure she would pull away from it now if it was there.

To clarify: Kyle didn't miss Gretal one bit. She just really, really, really wouldn't mind having Gretal beside her at that moment in time. She wondered how many more reallys she could add onto that sentence before she'd have to face reality. Truth was, Kyle was angry that she couldn't come to terms with how she felt before it was too late. And Kyle was angry that anger seemed to be the only feeling she could ever process. And Kyle was really angry at the fact that she had to be the only person stuck on this damn train at four in the fucking morning. It was like the world was forcing her to sit in the corner and think about what she'd done.

Coincidentally, the train seemed to acknowledge her thoughts, making an agonizing screech as it came to a halt in another lifeless station. Kyle listened to the airy noise of the doors opening and waited for the silence that followed with every other stop. But then a sudden thump echoed in the carriage which almost made her jump out of her seat entirely. The unmistakable clapping of flip-flop sandals followed and Kyle suddenly realised she wasn't so alone anymore. She felt a bump as luggage flopped into the seat beside her.

The seat beside her? Was this person fucking blind? The entire carriage was empty. But no, of course, take a seat next to the only other person on the train. After all, Kyle was more than willing to make awkward conversation with a stranger- most likely a murderer -in the dead of night. She snuck a quick glance over at the strange night-dweller.

It was a small young woman, probably around twelve years old, based on Kyle's (poor) judgement. The majority of her face was hidden behind a mop of mint-green hair and comically large glasses. She was firmly bundled up in a fluffy sweater so big that the sleeves hung out way past her hands. She seemed to be permanently caught in a paradox between summer and winter, based on her fashion choices. The girl curled up tight in the corner of the seat, seeming equally uncomfortable with the situation at hand. She shuffled about awkwardly as she felt Kyle's eyes staring her down.

The train slowly continued on its way again; the soft rumbling filled the silence.

"Hey, kid." Kyle spoke up after a while, voice dissonant against the smooth background noise. The other jumped.

"Do your parents know you're out at this hour? Ain't it past your bedtime?" The young woman's expression of surprise melted into one of unamusement.

She spoke with a stark american accent, like one you'd hear in a commercial. "I commend you for your top notch humour. Allow me to respond appropriately." She leant forward.

"Ha."

Kyle blinked. Well. That wasn't exactly the response she was expecting. She raised her eyebrows before turning away with a sigh. Perhaps if she pretended to sleep it would make things less awkward than they already were. She made a mental note to never ever board a train past one in the morning ever again.

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