And Love Walked In

I thought after the robbery business would go down, I'd lose my job and end up homeless but in fact business has increase. Not that I'm complaining. I stand behind the counter holding a wash cloth as I look over the shop. There's a couple sitting near the window chatting among themselves and a group of teenagers sitting near the front counter. Aside from that there aren't much customers. I pull up a stool and sit on it and pulling out my book to re-read.

As I was reading and enjoying the silence a new customer walked in. I look up from my book to see a boy no older than 16 walk in looking suspicious. I could feel my hands begin to shake as I remember what happened the last time a shady person walked in. I take a deep breath and set my book by the register before smiling at the boy, "Hello what can I get you?" I ask kindly waiting for him to order.

"Coffee, just coffee." he mumbles his voice sounding raw, like he was crying.

"Sugar or cream?"

"Black." is all he says reaching for his wallet and pulling out some bills. He sets them on the counter as I give him his change. "The Art of War, it's a good book." he says picking up my ratty book.

"You've read it?" I ask in disbelief. Most kids his age read shit like The Hunger Games or Twilight. It shocks me that a young person as himself would even acknowledge a literature work like The Art of War.

"Yeah." he says softly setting my book down gently. I hand him his coffee watching as he sits at the counter, where no one ever sits. "So are you traumatized?" he asks nonchalantly as he rubs his fingers around the rim of the cup.

"Of what?" I ask trying to play it cool.

"You know what I'm talking about." he states looking up at me, his dark blue eyes piercing into me.

"At first, yes."

"But?"

"Doesn't matter, how old are you anyway?" I ask changing the subject not wanting to discuss my fears.

"Seventeen." he says finally taking a sip of his drink, it's probably lukewarm by now. "And you?"

"Nineteen."

A silence falls between us as I wipe the counters and machines. It feels nice to have some company here instead of just my book which is really only an inanimate object.

"My name is Emerson." he says suddenly. I look over to him noticing a small blush on his cheeks which makes him look adorable.

Why do I get the feeling this kid doesn't know how to make friends? "I'm Rome."

"A beautiful name, I love Rome. I go there for vacation every year." he says softly a genuine smile slipping onto his lips.

"Your name doesn't fall far from the tree." I tell him watching his cheeks burn red once more. "You're name is beautiful as well, it reminds of of Emerald." I tell him hoping to boost his self-esteem. Poor kid looks like he needs it.

"Thank you, my great-grandfather had my name." he tells me and I could catch the slight sound of disappointment in his tone.

His phone begins to ring and he blushes mumbling a soft apology before answering it. I take this time to finish cleaning, acting like I'm not listening into his conversation. "I'm sorry Mother." he says softly. "Yes I know. I'm sorry." he repeats again. "I know, I'll be there soon."

"Rome." he whispers. I turn to him noticing tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. "I need to go." he tells me sadly as he stands up. I grab my book and a pen, "Hold up." I tell him as I scribble something inside the cover. He waits from me watching me with confused eyes as I hand him the book.

"Don't read it til you're at home." I instruct him watching as he blushes again making me smile. He gives me a smile before leaving out the doors. I sigh and look down to the counter, fuck I just gave him my only possession.