(lady fortuna was kind.)

"can you even say that?" she's grinning from ear to ear, trying her best not to let laughter escape from cherry red lips. nate nods quickly and tries the word again, without much success—his tongue mangles the syllables and his trachea refuses to bend to the higher power that was yancy helios.

but he tries anyway.


"did you even try?"

nate shakes his head, brown hair flying about like a just washed herdier's. yancy covers her mouth with her dainty hands, and hides a torrent of giggles.

"nope, that word is just not working for me!" he rolls his mocha gaze, and joins yancy's one-woman laughing fit with his own boyish chuckle. she rolls around and lays on her stomach, props her chin on her hands, now flat against her jaw, and tilts her head coquettishly, teasingly. her pink hair pools across the boy's outstretched legs, yancy's white hat makes residence in one of the four corners of nate's bedroom, and sat alongside the boy's red visor.

"well, you know what I mean!" nate leans forward and plants a kiss on the girl's lips, brushing aside wayward locks before doing so. she giggles into his mouth, and brushes her nose against his—they're a stark set, hers is round and tiny like a button, and his is broken and tan, still glowing from the afternoon sun.

"i do, i do," she sings.

she does, she knows exactly what the brunet is referring to when he mangles the word with such determination, such adoration. their chance encounter, their passerby natures, their first meeting—everything was left up to chance, and to chance alone.

lady fortuna was kind.

they share another kiss.

it's more forceful than their usual 2 by 4 waltz, she has her fingers in his hair, they tug and twist his chestnut strands, he lets out a moan from the back of his throat and she pounces—presses her small hands against his chest and and pushes him down against his carpeted floor.

her cheeks are rosy with embarrassment, as if trying to apologize for causing that sound to come out of his mouth.

nate laughs at the squeaks she makes when he cups her cheeks and pulls her back against his chest. her ear is close to his chapped lips, she feels the warmth of his breath against her neck, and closes her cornflower blue eyes and she waits—

he whispers:

"but, if it makes you feel any better—the word is serendipity, but i like to think we are more than that."