Serendipity (n) 1. An aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident.
2. Good fortune; luck.
He hated her; truly hated everything about her. If it wasn't for the freakin' ability she had of just knowing what he was thinking and feeling; if that wasn't bad enough in itself, it was that new agey crap she always seemed to pull with a side dose of Dr. Phill meets ghost whisperer crap.
"Help ghost," She'd say to him with her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised daring him to shoot it one more time with rock salt. Help ghost his ass; Casper isn't always so friendly and up for a ghost whisper moment like she's so hell bent on having with them.
A prickly sensation hit him like a ton of bricks. "Dean," he felt her behind him before she had even spoke. Her presence in his life was like a big fat smack in the face that he couldn't seem to avoid no matter how hard he tried.
"Yeah?" Even he could hear the aggravated sound that was his voice. He inwardly flinched knowing that she didn't deserve that tone. She didn't deserve anything that he was putting her through.
But there she was standing behind him in nothing but one of his old AC/DC T shirt that looked better on her then it did on him. "Come back to bed," she rested her head on his bare back, "Yeah?" her light accent seemed to make him more anxious then ever. Her arms snaked themselves around his body making him feel suffocated by her proximity.
"We can continue from last night."
"I have to go," He said suddenly, moving himself from her grip. He refused to look in her eyes knowing that he'd see hurt in them, and that wasn't something he couldn't take.
He had a shirt on and was out the door before she ever had a chance to tell him goodbye.
