About Kismet

6

The company of four had migrated to the living room, lounging in the sofas.

The men had invited Anna and Kismet into their conversation. Anna, because she had a legal background as an Auditor with the CRA. Kismet, just as a courtesy.

Anna often knew the opposition's strategy so the men would, on a few occasions, consult her.

Their conversation shifted from the case to hockey over the course of the next half hour, and Noah switched on the TV to stream the playoffs.

Professor had made his way into the living room, climbing onto the couch to settle between Kismet and her father.

Kismet sat next to her father, leaning into his side as she busied herself with a loose thread on the hem of her top. 

Her feigned disinterest stemmed from her history with a player on one of the teams.

It becomes increasingly hard to forget someone when they rise to sudden fame as a result of their successful sports career. As if he doesn't want to be forgotten, she thought.

Wesley Knighton.

As if to spite her further, the universe brought him to Noah's, and subsequently her father's, attention.

Noah leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he peered sideways at Kismet. "Wasn't he a close friend of yours?"

Kismet exhaled, not today Satan. Please.

Her father sat up straighter, "Yeah. He was over a lot during your university years wasn't he?"

"Yuri really liked him," he murmured in an afterthought, causing Kismet's chest to constrict.

Anna cleared her throat, "Yeah. He was," she emphasized, hoping to get the message across.

Noah's eyebrows rose, swiftly changing the topic.

"My—Anna, can you grab me a water?" he asked, coughing lightly.

She nodded, getting up quickly.

Kismet was ever thankful for her friend's interception, her limbs having lost their previous tension.

The Canadian in her gave in as well, and she focussed her attention on the game. It's the playoffs, she reasoned internally.

Her gaze shifted for a split second, watching as Anna handed a bottle of water to Noah. Then, taking a seat on the sofa, only in closer proximity to him.

Her forehead creased with interest as she saw the hand Noah casually placed on Anna's thigh, stifling a laugh as Anna swatted it away.

—

The game was nearing its end, the score at an uneven 2-3. There were four minutes left and, at this point, Kismet doubted anything would change.

She was proven wrong a moment later when a player of the opposing team checked another player into the boards.

They, along with the at-game crowd, watched with acute horror as the player's heads collided with force, sending the defending player onto the ice, motionless.

As the offender attempted to move away from the fallen player, he tripped forwards, his skate landing with his body weight on the unconscious player's leg.

The camera suddenly zoomed in, and from the angle, the only thing visible was the awkward angles at which the player's leg was bent, along with the quickly spreading stain on the material covering his shin.