Sorry
Kyle walked around Robicheaux Academy alone, pondering his thoughts. It's finally over; Madison is dead, Cordelia is Supreme, and he gets to be with Zoe until the end of their (somewhat) natural lives. But he understands it was at a cost; Misty. Misty died trying to complete the Seven Wonders, this much he knows. He knows little about the woman, other than she loved Stevie Nicks, she lived in a swamp, and she adored Zoe enough to bring him back. She also wasn't aware of Kyle's past and paid for it when Kyle smashed her Stevie, made her cry. He didn't mean to make her cry; she didn't know any better.
With Misty dead, Kyle has no idea how to apologize to her about her radio. A letter? He's illiterate and doesn't want the embarrassment of asking Zoe for help when she's already busy being Cordelia's right-hand man. Kyle's simple; he found a simple way.
"Kyle what are you doing up so late? We have to get up early in the morning for the girls," Zoe moaned out as she looks groggily at her boyfriend for answers. Lamp glaring, it shines a humorous shadow of Kyle hunched over, moving his arms and fingers. Metal clinking, wood being carved, and the grunts and gasps of approval from Kyle were enough to peak Zoe's curiosity. Kyle ignored her, continuing to work. He didn't want to ruin his concentration; what he's doing must be perfect.
Seeing Kyle ignoring her, Zoe pursed her lips and turned over in her bed in a hump. She'll have a stern talking to Kyle later in the day after she catches her much-needed beauty sleep. Kyle left her, clinking and screwing, carving and zapping his fingers until they were singed pieces of flesh. No matter what, he will finish.
Early that morning, the sun peeked through lavender and fuchsia and painted everything it touched. There stood a deranged looking man in a second-hand tuxedo and bow-tie, trotting toward the Robicheaux cemetery with a contraption in his hand. It is a metallic green, chunks of metal clamped together with crudely placed bolts and it has screws poking out of speakers. It contains a tape with chicken scratch written on it in blue ink.
Kyle holds it tightly, his palms sweaty from nerves and excitement. He sits down in front of a headstone, finds the sideways triangle and pushes it with vigor.
It played Stevie Nicks's "Has Anyone Written Anything for you?"
"I did the best I could, and I'm glad it could play; it took me all day and night to find the pieces and put them back together. It's kind of like a jigsaw puzzle that Zoe's been showing me," Kyle rambled, pushing the strands of his hair back in nerves.
"I wish I could tell you in person, that I'm sorry. I know you didn't mean any harm. I know that now, but I know it's not gonna bring you back," he began, a tear escaped his eye. "I wish you didn't die, you didn't deserve that. Zoe, Cordelia, me, everybody, we all owe you." His lips touched the cold tombstone with a shuddering breath.
"Goodbye, Misty." Kyle got up and turned to leave, tears clouding his judgment. What he never expected was arms wrapping themselves around him and encase him with gentle warmth. He smells sunflowers and mud, and sees sun-kissed curls out the corner of his eye.
"Goodbye, Kyle." He heard her voice for the last time, and then she vanished. Kyle, now alone, allowed himself to cry as Stevie Nicks's song played to a close.
AN: okay, I actually did feel a tear come out when I wrote this! Forgive me! Hope you enjoyed!
