When they were close enough to the ground, Gil jumped out from Kyle's arms and landed on his two feet, his fists balled and his face red with irritation. He turned away, trying not to look at Kyle so he could resist the urge to punch him in the face. Why was he always like this? Why couldn't anyone ever act normal around Gil?

"I don't want to play your games, Kyle!" he shouted, stuffing the gun back into its holster.

He turned around and with his left hand, gripped his forearm and grit his teeth. "Why do you always do this?"