Hotel Dusk 215: Untitled
Kyle’s hand reached for the glass of bourbon, eyes cast upon it with intense hatred. He couldn’t stand it any longer; this entire façade of fleeting care.
He knocked back the rich, rust-coloured liquid in a single gulp. His expression became sour as a fiery path carved its way down, toward his stomach, the pleasant pain masking how much he suffered on the inside. In reality, his heart ached. His mind throbbed. Nothing made the remotest bit of sense to him. He didn’t want to believe it, but what choice did he have?
The dull clink of glass against wood remained to be the only sound within the room, bar Kyle’s own deep, heaving breaths. It had been exactly one year and six months since he had shot his partner, his best friend, at the docks. Strangely, he could still feel the recoil of the gun in his hands. They continuously felt heavy, burdened, even as he worked for Ed as though nothing had ever happened. He’d always been called heavy-handed by his partner.
He cracked a slight smile at the memory. Bradley would take up one hand of his as they enjoyed a hotdog or two in Central Park, mocking Kyle about its size and the way he would use them. “Geez, man, you’re like a grizzly,” he would laugh before another bite of the roll. “I wonder how these are ever gentle with the ladies.”
He would sit there and smile to his partner, laughing heartily to any comment made. In honesty? He didn’t remotely wish to be gentle with the ladies in that circumstance. There was only one person he wished to be gentle with and he knew it would never happen. Not if they remained partners in the force, and certainly not if he remained straight as a pole.
“Bradley…” Kyle choked, leaning forward in his armchair. Each of his elbows propped on the knee before them, hands cradling his jaded face. He had been in love.