Leftover pasta.

"I have some leftover pasta I made yesterday."
"Oooh. Sounds yummy what kind?"
"Penne with pesto sauce, sundried tomatoes and roast chicken."
Kyle blinked. "Whoa. You some kind of chef?"
Beth chuckled. "I know my way around the kitchen, but I'm no chef."
"Well, compared to the chow I'm used to, I'm sure it'll be like dinner at Mastro's."

~~
Ten minutes later, Beth and Kyle were sitting in the living room, each with a bowl of reheated pasta. They were telling stories and jokes, and generally enjoying each other's company. Beth {if Shame < 50
}even indulged in a little light flirting, which Kyle mostly failed to even pick up on. {else
}felt a little guilty, but it was nice to get some attention from a man. Complimented my food, too. She even found herself flirting a little, and was amused by his apparent obliviousness to it. {endif
}
"...yeah it's definitely weird to be home." Kyle reached over to his bag to grab something, and winced.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, just a back injury. Doc says I need to go easy, let it heal." He rolled his shoulder gently, and grimaced.
"Can I ask how it happened?"
"Roadside bomb hit my humvee. I was extremely lucky to only have hurt my back." His face went a little blank. "My fire team, they weren't so lucky."
"Oh, Jesus, Kyle I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have..."
Kyle waved a hand in dismissal. "No, it's fine. The shrink told me its good to talk about it. Besides, pretending it didn't happen is kind of like pretending they never existed in the first place." Kyle lifted his shirt up over his shoulders, showing his ribcage tattoo: three dogtags, each with a first initial and last name. On top, a banner with a date. Holy shit. It happened two months ago.
"Hey, I'm not a professional or anything, but if you ever need to talk about it, you can always talk to me."
"Thanks. I might take you up on that some time." He shook his head. "Can we talk about something else?"

The rest of their conversation was on trivial things, but Beth couldn't forget what Kyle had revealed. Poor kid. He lost three squadmates and survived with just a minor injury. Survivor's guilt must be crazy.
Beth returned to bed around 2:45. Brian was snoring away, and she had no trouble slipping back into bed. Sleep was elding her though. She couldn't stop thinking about what Kyle went through. When she did finally sleep, the dreams were just as vivid.