About Kismet

16

Monday, March 18 2019

Kismet reached a sleepy hand up, pulling Professor off her face and setting him down beside her. She flipped onto her side, facing him. "Po, you can't keep sleeping on my face," she scolded.

Professor only meowed in response, nudging his head under her waving hand. She sighed in defeat, petting him instead. 

With her other hand, she leaned over to grab her phone, checking the time. 8:32 AM, she read. That gave her approximately an hour and a half until Matthew's appointment, scheduled for 10 AM.  

She dropped a kiss on Professor's head, climbing off her bed and walking to the washroom. The reflection that greeted her in the mirror made her wince. 

Her hair was in knots that even girl scouts couldn't untie. There were crease marks on the left side of her face, from where she lay on the pillow. Her top, like her face, was creased with wrinkles from being slept in; half-tucked into the band of her checkered shorts. 

It was the top Wesley had lent her a few nights prior. She excused wearing it as pyjama's by the soft fleece on the inside, but she knew it was because of his lingering smell. 

Debating whether she should change before eating, she decided to have breakfast first and then get ready. 

Professor followed Kismet down the stairs, scampering down the too-large steps. 

Kismet's breakfast was quiet, as it usually was. She placed Professor's dish on the table, helping the little cat up onto it. He would occasionally paw at her plate, nibbling on pieces of scrambled egg and bread. 

She later got ready, taking a quick shower and dressing. She would be meeting with Matthew's doctor and decided to dress decently. 

The drive to the hospital was lengthy, considering it was a Monday morning rush hour. Then again, every hour of the day was rush hour in Toronto. Kismet pulled into the visitors parking, climbing out of her car.

The hospital was busy, but that was expected. Kismet walked through the lobby, having requested a receptionist to see Doctor Matais, Mathew's doctor. Her eyes wandered as she subconsciously tried to find a familiar face. 

It wasn't particularly Matthew she was looking for, but he was the one who called out to her. She turned around in the direction of his loud voice, as did a few other people. He smiled sheepishly, although unapologetically, at Kismet, who held back a smile of her own.

She walked towards him, her eyes still searching. "How are you?" she asked him distractedly. 

Mathew grinned knowingly, "I'm good. He's coming, just parking the car."

Kismet's eyes fixed on him, "Who?" she questioned dumbly. She silently chided herself for being too obvious. 

Mathew began to reply but was cut off by the subject of Kismet's searching eyes approaching them. Wesley lazily walked towards them, his hands casually tucked into his sweatpants. The combination of sweatpants and a casual top complimented him. 

Kismet's eyes met his, and he smiled at her, his smile lines more pronounced. "Good morning," he said, amused at the look on her face, of a deer in headlights. 

She turned away from him abruptly, facing Mathew instead of replying. Mathew coughed a laugh, smirking at her. She groaned, "Good morning," she replied, still not facing him.

Wesley's eyebrows drew together in confused amusement, glancing questioningly between Mathew and Kismet. Mathew only shrugged his shoulders, smiling good-naturedly.