ᙀ𝛮Ѕ⫪ߡ𝐵ㄴㅌ

∴⍑𝙹 ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ 1.1

///tw: none///

You smiled as a potential customer left the store with a loud "thank you." As soon as you heard the door shut, the smile dropped and you rolled your eyes.

"Another dizty minded girl who just wanted to look," you grumbled under your breath. The pawn shop you run seemed to only attract "observers'' and never "buyers." It was a shame; you had some cool stuff in here, but it seemed like no one ever seemed interested. At least, they weren't interested in the front of the shop.

Let's just say when someone said a certain thing, they could look at the more... suspicious items.

You grabbed the book you had been reading and sat back down on the overly creaky yet surprisingly comfortable chair. As your feet kicked up onto the counter, you flipped open to where you left off, only for the bell to ring jangle. Scowling from behind the book, you quickly pasted yet another fake smile to welcome the stranger; a well-built looking guy with a brown leather duffle bag in hand. The smile you wore faltered as your attention landed on the bag.

Not suspicious at all. You knew what he was here for, but he certainly could have chosen a more subtle way to carry his crap.

He came over to you and set his hand onto the counter. You merely stared at him flatly. He was a usual customer, but he was a bitch to deal with in that he never said what he wanted. Not to mention he always wore a mask for whatever supervillain secrecy charade he wanted to pull off.

"You letting me see you today, or just business," you said flatly. His blue eyes sparkled in dull amusement.

"Just here to check out your collectors items." There was the code. You exhaled heavily through your nose and set down your book once again.

As you walked over to the bookshelf, you glanced over your shoulder to make sure he wasn't looking. Seeing he had turned away from you, you touched your finger to a thick crusty book titled "The Diary." No one would ever try to buy the book based on its old spine and title, which made it the perfect candidate for a secret lever. 

You pulled on it, hearing a click as the bookshelf opened slightly. Swinging it open like a door, you waved your hand at it.

"Knock yourself out, rings." You called him strange name that due to the several large gold bands he wore on his fingers every time he came since he never gave you his real name. You had an inside joke with yourself that he was born with them.

He entered and shut the bookcase behind him, leaving you in your silence, although it didn't last for very long. Something clattered, and immediately you knew what it was.

"Stupid lamp," you grumbled under your breath. Walking quickly to the other side of the store near the window, you picked up the slightly damaged lamp and put it back in its designated place. It was a pretty relic with fake golden leaves crawling up the sides, but it was missing one of the four knobs that held it up so it fell two or three times a week. You really needed to get a something like a wooden block to hold it up.

Readjusting the shade, your eyes lingered on your reflection. Your hair was decently kept, and while the color was nice, you thought it would be fun to dye it an interesting color. However, the singular white lock made up for that. Personally, you found it cool, but other people thought you had been revived from the dead; a white strand of hair usually signified that. Although their superstitions could have been right, since you couldn't remember anything before five months ago.