The Girl Working at the Chocolate Shop

The first time he saw her, he didn't know what to think. Her head was down as she peered through the glass cases, and she wore nothing but black. Her hair was a strange shade of green, almost like she was trying to become a clover. Her short stature was the most normal thing, and even then, it surprised him that she seemed to be over a foot shorter than him.

The young woman was in the chocolate shop next door to the flower shop his mother owned and managed. He only worked there because she insisted, wanting to spend more time with her "baby boy." He's already nineteen, he argued every time he heard the phrase, but she would never listen.

Only when she heard the bell above the door and the sounds of footstep on the tiled floor did the young woman look up.

The sight of her eyes were more breathtaking than her choice of hair dye. They were a beautiful shade of blue, darker than sapphire. Close to the pupil, he noticed, was a light shade of green. There was so little of the color, he was surprised he noticed.

The young woman's face was a mixture of soft, subtle angles, featuring sharp, yet also subtle, cheekbones. Her nose was petite and perfectly proportioned for her face, as was her mouth.

None of that is what really caught him.

The way she spoke, the soft, yet confident, tone she used was far different than what he though he would hear. He thought he would hear a bored droning voice, and it hinted behind how she actually spoke. There was even a broken, "I've-given-up" tone hidden behind the confidence, and it intrigued him to no end.

That voice, and the hidden whispers of true feelings behind it, is what captivated him.