The cool November sun rose from between the fluffy clouds that covered the skies of Suffield, Connecticut. Throughout the square few people stirred as the church bells struck six, the street lights slowly flickering out. After a moment a lone figure slowly walked along one of the many sidewalks. His blackish brown hair was brushed neatly into place, though the wind tried its best to disrupt it as he came to a stop at his destination.

With a poorly stifled yawn the man slipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew from it the key to the small antique book store that stood before him. The sign above the door read, "MARYAM BOOKS", and it creaked loudly in the fall winds. He unlocked the front door and hurried in, slamming it behind him as he did his best not to let any of the cold inside with him.

He shuffled through the dark room until his hand reached the light switch. With a buzz the ancient lights flickered on, casting a yellow glow across the store. He squinted his eyes against the light as he tugged his scarf until it came loose. After a moment he opened his vermilion eyes to glance around, still half blinded by the light. On the right was the lounge, consisting of a few armchairs and a small fireplace. To the left of that was the checkout counter, atop of which sat a prehistoric cash register that frequently refused to work at all. The wall straight back was lined with shelf after shelf of books. Some were new, taking up the closest bookcases. But further back they held old novels with yellowing pages. Many were in disarray, but most of those were in the back room, waiting to be repaired. After he had neatly hung his coat on its designated hook, tidied up a few fallen books and started the small fire by the lounge it was already seven thirty.

Opening time was in half an hour.

He smiled and strode over to the counter where he picked up his mug and a tea bag, content to live another day of working as the manager in his mother's pride and joy. In all honesty he was the only employee, but frankly he didn't mind the solitude all too much. Sometimes he was unsure how he ever dealt with it when his mother was here, running about the store fussing over every detail, cleaning every shelf.

He relaxed back in one of the two armchairs that sat by the fire and slowly sipped his tea, as was his morning routine. By the time his tea was gone he had already finished reading the newspaper, or at least the important parts of it. Leisurely he picked up his mug and headed to the back room to rinse it, leaving the newspaper in the recycling bin as he returned to the main shop.

Without glancing at his watch he knew that the Church bells were about to ring. With in seconds they clanged eight, and as he usually did when he walked behind the counter he flipped the sign hanging from the window from "Closed" to "Open".

Clang.

Clang.

He looked up from the novel in his hands. Two o'clock. The store was empty as usual around this time, and that meant lunch break. He yawned as he stood up from his stool and stretched, then placed his book down on the counter and headed into the back room to heat up the leftovers from dinner that he had brought with him. As the old beat-up microwave spun the Tupperware round and round he glanced through the mail he had collected earlier.

There was a letter to his mother from Maude Serket. When is that woman going to understand that she doesn't live here anymore, he thought, slightly amused by his mother's friend's antics. The rest of the letters were the normal junk mail and bills. At the microwave's signal he proceeded to carefully stack the mail away and take his reheated lasagna back into the store over to the lounge.

He ate slowly, savoring the flavor on his tongue. It wasn't as good as it had been the night before, but he didn't mind too much. Food was food, after all. The flames flickered softly in the fireplace beside him, keeping the chill of late fall at bay.

Suddenly a jingle signaled to him that someone had opened the door. For a moment he was confused–no one ever comes in at this time of day—so he twisted around and peeked over the back of his seat.

The first thing he noticed was that she couldn't have been over twenty, which surprised him because few of his customers were under the age of forty.

She stood by the checkout counter, glancing deeper into the store. She wore a simple black trench coat that hung past her knees, obscured partially by her long chocolate brown hair that was in partial disarray. It ended around the small of her back, uneven layers jutting out here and there as if she had cut it herself not long ago.

"Hello? Is anybody here?" Her voice was fairly loud, but it held a sweet tone to it.

Apparently she hadn't noticed his presence, so after a moment of silence he collected himself and pushed off of the chair. She whipped around at the noise, her green eyes locking with his. He apologized fervently for startling her, but she simply sighed in relief and waved a hand at him saying, "No, no it's alright. Don't be sorry, I just didn't see you there, that's all!"

She straightened herself up and smiled at him, turning to look around the store again, "So, this is the town bookshop?"

"Yes, Maryam books." He placed the Tupperware on the counter behind her and turned to hold out his hand. "Kaniel Vantas. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss? "

"Oh, I'm Marleen!" She shook his hand enthusiastically in return, smiling broadly. "Marleen Leijon. Do you come here often?"

His eyes widened, a small blush tinting his cheeks. What? Is she, flirting with me?

"I work here. And, I apologize, but we just met and I don't think that—"

She immediately flushed and ducked her head in embarrassment, interrupting him with a hasty reply of, "Eh, no no! You see, I just moved into town and wanted to know if this store had a good selection of books or not. I wasn't trying to imply anything else, oh gosh I'm sorry!"

Embarrassed at his own stupidity Kaniel apologized for his mistake, cursing himself for being so antisocial. After a moment of awkward silence he offered her some tea, which she gladly accepted before she went off and began to explore the aisles of books. He hurried to the back room and grabbed his extra mug—thank god I have another. As he waited for the water to heat in the microwave he peeked around the door.

To his surprise she walked right past the book case containing the common teen romances and headed further into the store. She wandered over to the shelves stuffed with old yellowed pages, stooping low to look at those close to the floor.

The beep of the microwave startled him back to reality and he hurried to finish preparing the tea. He dropped in a few sugar cubes—Girls like sugar, right?—and then walked out, carefully holding it in his hands.

"I hope you don't mind, but there isn't any milk here… sorry."

Marleen smiled at him and stood up to accept the mug, pausing to take a big whiff.

"Oh, I don't mind at all! It smells delicious, by the way," she mused, turning back to the books. "You've got a lot of antiques here."

"Yes, my mother loved them." Kaniel nodded his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he turned to look over his collection.

"Loved?" she asked, glancing at him nervously as if hoping not to upset him. "Did… something happen to her?"

"What? Oh no, she's fine. She's simply out of the country right now and I've been left in charge of the family business." He smiled and shrugged, "It's not the most exciting job, but I can't complain."

"Complain? Not exciting?" He turned back to look at her as she stood up fully, glaring at him and wagging her finger. "You own a store filled with books! How dare you think it's boring!"

He stared at her for a moment, blinking in confusion a few times. But then she lost her serious expression and almost spilled her tea as she laughed wholeheartedly. She leaned against the shelf beside her for support, trying not to knock anything over in her fit of hysterics. He was confused, and shifted slightly. Was this how normal girls acted? He wasn't quite sure, but something told him it was not.

Suddenly she poked him, making him jump at the contact, "You should see your face!"

Although he was had no clue of how to respond to her excitement, he found himself smiling along as he shakily shot back, "You look quite ridiculous yourself right now."

She only laughed harder, barely sputtering out an agreement in-between her gasps. After a bit she calmed down, turning to look back at the shelf in front of her.

"Do you have any of Alighieri's works?"

"You mean the Divine Comedy?"

She smiled and nodded, quickly asking him again if the store contained them. As he showed her over to that section she asked, "So, what country is your mom in?"

"China. She's teaching first grade English there currently."

She stopped walking, and he turned to see her looking around another shelf before looking back to him. "A teacher huh? Why is she teaching there and not here?"

He started to walk again, but answered, "Mother takes pity on those less fortunate than herself. The school she is working at is an orphanage."

"She works with orphans? That's pretty neat."

Neat? He didn't see how it was very interesting. To him it was more admirable, but being an orphan himself probably had something to do with it.

Rosa Maryam had adopted him when he was still quite young, his parents having died in a car accident. But he never thought of it much, having been to young to remember them, so he always had considered Rosa as his mother completely.

"Are those contacts?"

Her voice drew him from his thoughts and he turned back to face her. "Hm? I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Your eyes, they're so pretty! Are they contacts?"

He stiffened—Oh no not this again—then awkwardly shifted to rub his arm as he mumbled, "Um, no. I don't wear contacts..."

"What? But then why—Oh! You're an Albino? But your hair is black!"

"I dye it?"

She frowned slightly, "Why? I'm sure you'd look cute with white hair!"

His face flushed again and he fidgeted, stuttering for a reply. She only laughed again before she turned back to the bookshelves.

Once she finally found her book she followed him over to the check out counter. He calculated her change, moving to open the register but in his nervous state he forgot how sticky the button was. His fingers slammed the button down, jamming the drawer along with her change in with it. He apologized again as he fought with the ancient register, cringing as it stubbornly refused to open.

Jeez, today is not going well…

But Marleen only chuckled in reply. "Don't apologize so much; it's fine! In fact," she smiled, taking the book up in her hands. "Why don't you just give me my change the next time I come?"

He looked up from his hands, his face feeling warm as he stuttered, "Next time?"

Marleen's smile broadened and she winked, taking the book with her as she hurried to the door. As she opened the door she waved enthusiastically and Kaniel simply gawked after her as the door slowly swung shut, the chimes jingling.

And then she was gone.