The Arsonist

Seven

The next morning Gray happily waltzed into the office, her happiness radiating off of her.

"You seem very joyous today," a voice said as she accidentally bumped shoulders.
She looked up to see none other than to see the one face she wanted to avoid.

"Yes. I would think so, Micah."

The doctor flashed a wooing smile at her, looking her in the eye, and wrapped his arm nonchalauntly around her waist. "It's quite a beautiful smile, you should wear it more often."

A few weeks ago, Gray would have blushed, she would have smiled wider to make him happy, and then giddily walked away. She would have done all of this if Lyle wasn't there.

Gray laid a hand upon Micah's shoulder and flashed him another smile. "Dr. Lawrence, I think Jean is looking for you."

For the second time, she had left Micah - the man who always had something to say- speechless, and she loved it.

Once arriving to floor fourteen, she was anticipating the appearance of Lyle. Expecting him to be waiting to embrace her at the door, like the previous day. Lyle never did the expected.

"Gray." His voice came from the sofa. He wasn't laying down, the radio wasn't on, he wasn't reading- just staring out the large bay window across the room. Something was wrong.

"Lyle?" Gray walked through the large living space and kissed the man on the head and finding her way to his lips. He kissed her back, forgetting his quandary, but quickly pulled away as he remembered.

"Gray, please, sit down."

Gray did what she was told, sitting opposite the man on the couch, he was dressed in button down shirt and a pair of jeans, different from his normal attire.

"Lyle, what's going on? Are you okay, what happened?" Worry creeping up in her voice.

"Shh," Lyle said leaning forward and stroking her light brown hair. "I'm okay. It's just-" Lyle looked down, grabbing Gray's leg, and rubbing the bare skin. "You're her."

"What?"

"Graycie. It's so common, he never talked about what you looked like. I-I tried to forget everything. I had to get rid of everything about him I-"

"Damnit Lyle, what is going on?!" Gray yelled much louder than she should have, causing Lyle to lean back.

"You're Gordon's sister! You're little Graycie."

"How-" Gray was at a loss for words. Questions danced around in her head, each one trying so hard to escape her lips before the other barged in its way. Finally one was dominate. "You knew him?" Tears welded up in her eyes. Through the accumluating water, she could see Lyle close his eyes and look away. Just the sight of Gray's sadness was enough to make the man, the "killer", cringe.

Lyle grabbed Gray's hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckes. "He was my best friend. My only friend. You asked me if I had any friends and I said no. Since he..." Lyle looked at Gray, trying to see if it was okay to use the word.

"Lyle, he's dead. I can't help it, neither can you, just say it."

"Since he died, all I've tried to do is get him away from me. He was everywhere, the water- like his eyes, any sort of happiness, laughter, anything, anyone with red hair," Gray giggled over her tears at the memory of her brother's bright red hair.

"I remind you of him don't I?" Gray asked. She silently shunned herself for asking the question and ruining the moment, but she couldn't let it go.

"Yes," Lyle said bluntly. He squeezed her hands and brought them to his lips.

"How did you know him?" She asked.