The two were at Kenny's house after the kind-hearted psychiatrist had given his verdict: there was nothing more he could do. Wendy had now been suspended a record fifty times in all of her eleven years of school.
Kenny set down a steaming mug of Swiss Miss and set out a plate of strawberry pop-tarts. He had brought home a box set of Law and Order: SVU for them to watch tonight, as nothing was better at putting someone to sleep.
"You don't have to do this," Wendy mumbled, twisting and turning her hands into each other like Tweek might if he was strung out on some serious shit.
Kenny couldn't take his eyes away.
"Seriously, I've all this 'warrior gene' stuff and man I don't wanna hurt you-" He couldn't stop watching her hands and then her face and then her lips. "It doesn't even make sense I just hate Cartman and I hate Bebe and I hate Allison and I hate…" Her lips were like petals or some shit, because they were just a perfect shade of pink. Why did they have to spew such nonsense? And he was so close to her… So close… "I swear there isn't a lapse in my- mmph!"
He had only wanted to make those beautiful lips still, and he had…in a way.
Perhaps not the most conventional means, but means all the same.
She didn't miss a beat, pouring her anger and frustration into the kiss. Nail dug into his bare arms, dragging him closer into her. She pushed and she bit. Tongues danced, minds raced, and hands fought underneath clothing.
Finally, they separated, heady breaths mixing like table salt into water: a solution.
Not the most innocent solution, but a solution all the same.
A quick answer to a life-long question.
And that was good enough for them.