A/N: Standard disclaimers apply.
I felt like being pretencious-- A mostly Stan/Wendy One-shot with plenty of background noise if you squint. Unbeta-ed.
Amaranthine
For them, it ends in the slight curve and slope of a circle.
It wasn't exactly what she'd been wishing. She was a romantic girl, through and through. She believed her love was written in the stars. She'd believed, for the longest time-- such a long time-- that her prince charming would come and her life would be finally complete after she became president, saved the bottle-nosed dolphins, and ended world hunger.
Except that which hasn't started cannot end-- circles. In circles.
She'd met him because of her boyfriend's circle of friends. How she'd despised the tubby one, but she'd also learned to understand when one starts dating someone, baggage is not a commodity, it is a tragedy to wade through. She learned to survive through relentless innuendos, and degrading slapstick humor about women and their only function, and apologetic smiles, and the fruitless attempts of her boyfriend to stand up for her without being labeled a wussy-whipped boy even though they all knew it was in fact true.
Kyle does it instead of Stan.
She'd learned to understand the dynamics of her boyfriend's alleged friends too. To this day Wendy isn't sure if Cartman insults Kyle out of sheer habit, or if it is really because Cartman needs to have a way to satisfy his sadistic side, maybe both. Why Kyle goes out of his way to pretend they are enemies, and then attempt to save him, while killing him, from the disasters South Park is so known for is, quite simply, beyond her. But Wendy understands dynamics, ebb and flow, round and round, and it is a sick little dance where Kenny dies another day, and Cartman is an asshole , and Kyle is still, to this day, the voice of reason, and Stan tries to be her boyfriend just to fail expectacularly.
Again.
But she understands dynamics, and how they continue, in circles and never endings, and just a little, to deviate. Because that's how it starts. Circles aren't always perfect and things always get in the way, so the circle breaks for a while, and the world is so unstable, she wonders what exactly happened in the before and the after they are now.
Years later she'd realize it was simply the novelty that had worn off, and she'd seen something else. "Eddies." Kyle would say bitingly.
They're grown up, there are some fall out, and most of it is all between Kyle and Stan, and sometimes Kenny and Stan, and at others it is just everyone with everyone, Cartman always goes back and forth depending on his mood, and they'd go their own ways in circles, and circles, and then they'd come back to each other, and then she realizes that no, Nirvana for them is impossible. That is wrriten in the stars too.
The circles continued, on, and on, and she felt dizzy, and sick, and yes, the novelty had worn off again, but with it rose the horrible feeling of being stuck, being in the same path already set, and all you do is ebb and flow, and ebb and flow, and end in the same path, in the same route you'd been for years now.
She is conforted with knowing she isn't the only one that feels that way, but then again she is dissapointed to know she isn't the only one that feels that way. She was expecting Stan to understand, hell Kenny even. Kenny and his constant dying that, if it did not happen, was the first hint of impending doom. She'd even be a bit more relieved if it had been Cartman with his nasty vocabulary, and rude jokes, and barely hidden sexual innuendos, of which she, if drunk enough, would of have taken him up on just for the hell of it.
No, it had been Kyle, always seemed to be. They circled each other, and circled the topic. And circled, that's all they did. They'd circle each other, the topic, and it was exhausting. She was tired of it. Routines, and habits, and the sameness of everyday. There was a little bit of guilt in there too, to keep things interesting. They keep rotating around each other, sizing each other, until she believes that something will definitely give.
He says, "I just don't like the continuity." and she tries not to be dissapointed when she realizes that nothing does--or did.
But this is Stan's best friend, and if both drunk enough, Stan's lover too when Wendy had her cheek turned. She and Stan are meant to be though, written in the stars. So when she deviated from her usual, and had enough alcohol in her to properly cloud her mind, but still whisper ridiculous things she usually shoved in the back of it too, she'd given in to temptation,
"Eddies." She kissed Kyle, lips connecting with the corner of his. He tasted bitter, of alcohol, of other things she doesn't quite recognize.
Kyle'd faltered for a second, the longest second of her life, and then tilted his head and kissed her back. This time properly. Drunken stupor, she'd later blame it on that. Stand had given a cry of outrage, and that had been like cold water thrown in their faces. But Wendy knew how to get around Stan. She told him he was more than welcome to have a go with Kyle too. And Stan had been outraged even more, and slammed his beer on the table while Kenny laughed so hard he'd nearly died, and Cartman spewed obscenities ranging from "Ew! You kissed the Jew!" to "I knew Kyle was Ghay," and they let it slide when Stan did start making-out with Kyle, and both Kenny and Cartman both left because apparently being in the room was upseting, and insulting, and they weren't desperate enough to start groping each other-- that's why God inveted whores.
And she is in the middle, except not really, in this relationship they travel in circles, and circles. But she decices circles are too never-ending, too continuous, and she comes to both fear and apreciate that which doesn't end. Like time, and change, it is slipping though her hands, and the fact that she is still in love with Stan, and Stan is still in love with her, but secretely they both fell for Kyle, and right now they're only fooling around-- tomorrow they will just go back to their routines, and maybe she would hope that it'd be different even though she knows better.
Instead, she'd sit in the middle, and she'd like that for a while. She would be unable to see in front of her, or behind her. So she'd have to break away from this circle too, but for now, the buzz in her head said things were fine, even though she knows better. And when Stan falls asleep, haphazardly falling off Kyle unto the ground, she doesn't laugh as loudly as Kyle does. Nor does she mutter obscenities while nudging Stan with her foot in-between calling him a tease. Instead she turns to watch him through hawk-eyes, and he shrugs not knowing any better. It was good while it lasted his eyes tell her.
Wendy kissed Kyle again anyways, to deviate.
This time though, one thing would lead to another, and they'd be too careless, too eager, and in the morning they'd circle each other, wondering just what the fuck happened. She can't remember all the details, but then she would be lying, like she lies in the never-fucking-ending circle of this fucked-up friendship, Stan absolutedly oblivious to the nights events; he does asks why he woke up on the ground, and why he was missing his shirt, did he score?
No, Wendy would think, but his best friend did.
Later in the day, because Kyle is till a goodie-shoe, and prone to guilt, he corners her and apologizes about the night before. He wasn't thinking, and then she'd pretend being oblivious even though she was much more sober than he'd been. She'd talk to him in circles, and he'd follow along not exactly sure of himself anymore, until finally he chalks it up as a very realistic erotic dream between him, and his best friend's girlfriend -- fiance-- and he says he's sorry to have bothered her after flushing, stuttering, and not being sure how to fix his social blunder. Who else goes to a person and tells them they had sex, only to later realize it was all a sort-of realistic dream? He asks her jokingly. She wasn't going to tell him otherwise.
Instead, Wendy laughs, pats him on the shoulder, and understands that he knows she's lying, but she's letting him off the hook, and it is just a little lie. Stan and her, it is written in the stars after all. Kyle and her, they're stuck in endless circles. So she had one night to embrace that which they both had learned to despise, and her life didn't fall apart like she'd once thought.
In circles they meet, in circles they end, in circles she is left with him. But she doesn't want to complicate things. She found the one, and she is still trying to solve the issue of world hunger, and she is a tad bit too young to be president but she's preparing herself anyways, and the Dolphin race has been almost annihilated by another horrible scheme of Cartman that killed Kenny, and nearly butchered any possibility of her becoming president, but she was hoping to save the poor creature from extintion. Needless to say, she hates Cartman, but she'd learned to live with him, and the world continues to spin, and turn, and it is endless. Just like Kyle's confused stares, and his smiles, and how despite his intentions being completly innocent, send shivers up her spine.
And that is fine, because she pretends hers do the same to him even though he has never once appeared to be affected. She'd keep it in the back of her mind, and, quite foolishly, hoped Kyle did too until they both get drunk enough to let go of inhibitions again. But then it really ends, in seemingly never-ending circles, with a wedding band, and "I do" and Stan's own never-ending love, and she wonders if it really ever started. Because circles do not have ends, and circles do not have starts either. For them, it stops in the curve and slope of a constant circle. She's stuck-- like amaranthine. She remembers that her love is written in the stars, not in the ceaseless, and kisses Stan.
A/N: I really, really, really, want some Kyle/Wendy fics. I call this one: "the one that really ran away".
Review, critique? Both more than welcomed.