Author Notes: SoulSilvershipping is quickly becoming a favorite.
Deus Ex Machina
Lyra was the type of girl who couldn't be figured out, a math problem that had no solution, like the Konigsberg bridge problem. A complicated equation didn't intrigue Silver in the slightest; he loathed math. Anyway, it wouldn't take an animated college algebra professor to realize that Lyra laughed in the face of every law of mathematics, especially those regarding probability.
She was a good trainer. He had to give her that. However she was ridiculously lucky.
She would command her Typhlosion to use fire blast on his Feraligatr and she would get the burn. Then after his waterfall did half damage (and the flinch fairy was away vacationing on a lovely beach resort near Cinnabar Island), Lyra would get a critical hit with a focus blast and win the battle.
It was absolutely maddening, yet a variation of this story, a demented fairy-tale that had long since worn out its welcome, an agitating pop song that lingers on the radio, seemed to happen every single time.
It would have been reasonable, although certainly not acceptable, if Lyra's powers of deus ex machina, broken as they may be, were limited to a few burns, critical hits and timely misses in a Pokémon battle. Sadly, destiny seemed to have a sick sense of humor, and she bestowed blessing upon blessing of serendipity to Lyra in virtually every facet of her life.
If you heard Silver admit it to anyone aloud, then the Sun had probably started rotating around the Earth, but even Silver, as unforthcoming as he was about Lyra, knew the girl was absolutely dazzling, a girl who had natural beauty that even some magazine models would envy. Simply put, she was cute, almost irresistibly so, and her skin was so soft that teddy bears wanted to snuggle with her.
So fate was incredibly kind to Lyra regarding the looks department. She also had an incredibly nice mother (or so he heard from Gold) and allegedly she had excelled in academics before she started her journey to become a Pokémon trainer.
Besides those natural blessings, as if those weren't enough, she was also incredibly lucky on a day-to-day basis. She had won the Goldenrod Lottery, the event in which a grand prize is awarded to a person who can match the lottery number with the ID number of a Pokémon they own, an event that a person like Lyra who hasn't traded Pokémon has about a 1/ 100,000 chance of winning, a grand total of two times. It was completely outrageous; if winning once was dancing for a few seconds with Celebi in the hazy moonlight, then winning twice was inviting the pixie out to lunch and having her pick up the tab.
Lyra was simply an unbelievable girl. When Silver and Lyra met by happenstance outside Mount Moon, the girl with the marshmallow hat complained about meeting too many Clefairy in the cave. Silver, believing her claim to be nothing more than bluster, asked her how many Zubat she ran into. Sweet-faced and angelic, sporting an innocent look that even the skeptical and hardened Silver could not doubt, Lyra calmly answered zero.
Mount Moon had more Zubat, than the Pacific Ocean had fish. If you've ever been there, the depths of Hades, the cold unforgiving Mount Moon, where an ounce of repel is more valuable than an ounce of gold, then you would know how impossible this feat is. Lyra was a walking deus ex machina, a girl who seemed to stumble upon what she wanted without even trying.
And she did stumble, over a Graveler, right outside the Pokémon League, right into Silver's arms, knocking him over in the process. The girl looked into his eyes, breathing heavily, her face as red and soft as a ripe tomato, looking incredibly cute and innocent, rapidly melting any disdain he felt toward her, easily capturing his heart as if she was a succubus.
It was something right out of a romantic comedy, a virtual impossibility and yet the emotions were real and raw and resolute, even if he wanted them to subside.
As if Lyra's face was a mirror to his own, he saw the same emotions, the robust feelings that he felt, reflected in the eager yet naïve Lyra, conceivably even more potent, even more authentic.
And Silver, if only for a second, if only in the most transient of thoughts, wondered if he, not Lyra, was the lucky one this time.
Author Notes: Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated.