Dahlia Wellburg hates her misery as much as she loves it. She sees herself as a stone: ordinary and unwanted. Yet, they know her to be a rose: soft, but with thorns.
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I bit into my fingers, curling my knees to my chest, and squeezed my eyes shut as more tears spilled out.
Crying myself to sleep was just another normal thing in my life, just like biting into my fingertips to keep myself from sobbing out loud.
I don't know when nights stopped meaning sleeping and turned into a time for misery. Maybe during my teenage years.
Soon enough, I managed to trick myself to breathe, and eventually, when the sun started whispering on the walls of my room, my tired eyes dropped to sleep.
. . .
"Have a nice d-"
The woman walked away before I could finish my sentence. I shrugged and billed the next customer.
"Hey, Dahlia."
I smiled at him. "Hello, Jason. What are we reading this week?"
He turned the giant book in his hands. I read the title which was slapping on a bright neon red cover. "Sci-fi. It's amazing. It reimagines Mesopotamia as a ridiculously advanced civilization, and says that they hid it because they didn't want the people in the future to figure it out."
My eyebrows shot up. "Wow. I need to read this."
He grinned, eyes twinkling through the mess of his black hair, showing his braces. Jason was a fifteen-year-old boy who had a beautiful way with words and would probably become a very successful author one day.
"I will finish it in a few days. I'll come back to tell you if I liked it?"
"I would love that," I said with a smile. "Now, go pay up, you're holding the line."
He walked away after paying, waving at me wildly. I chuckled and shook my head. He was crazy.
"Next, please-"
I blinked up at the familiar man. My hands, which had been reaching down to grab a bag, froze, and my eyes instantly went to the giant scar on his face.
He set a simple journal on the counter. I looked down at his hand. His watch looked to be worth a million, and his rings more. "I'd like to buy this."
I took in a deep breath to get some oxygen into me and nodded, forcing a smile on my face. His eyes, which I realized were the palest shade of blue, dropped down to my lips, and a tiny frown came between his eyebrows. "Of course."
I told him the price, and he paid with a tip which was too big to give. But, I was not going to complain. The man looked like he could spare a few dollars.
I put his journal in a bag and handed it to him, with my regular smile on my face, even though everything in me trembled because of how close we were. He easily towered over me. It was as if all the space in the store was consumed by him.
