Christiana placed a plate of pancakes and scrambled egga on the granite countertop for her mother, whenever she woke up. She was not aware that her mother was standing behind her bedroom door waiting for Christiana to leave.

   Christiana checked herself in the mirror one last time. All of her cuts and bruises were covered. Usually her mother carefully placed them in areas that would not be seen. And any marks that stood out could be covered with powder or concealer, the only cosmetics Christiana was allowed to have.

   She left for work a moment later.

   Her ankle throbbed as she walked, but she pretended not to feel it. It wasn't a terrible pain; she'd felt worse. Unconsciously, her hand reached up and rubbed her shoulder. The bruise stung more than her ankle.

   Christiana had never felt anger towards her mother for doing what she did to her. She knew everyone loved in their own way.  This, as wrong and painful as it is, was how her mother loved. Even if she had loved in a kinder, more preferable way before.... Her mother did say that beauty and love were pain, and that the only difference between the two was that beauty also equalled narcissism and pride, and love led to disappointment and sacrifice. Though this was the same woman who said happiness was fake.  Christiana questioned whether her mother knew what she was talking about.

   And yet Christiana never dared to venture out to find any other type of love. She didn't bother to wonder if it existed. She never fantasized about what it would be like. The love described in books sounded heavenly. But that love might only live in books, and books were fictional.

    Christiana recalled suddenly, that night two days ago, as she entered the town and passed the diner. She remembered the sleek, black, metal frame of the car, and then the warm leather seats. In a way the car reflected it's owner. Cold and dark on the outside, but capable of warmth and kindness on the inside. That man, with his deep golden eyes that held so much pain and kindness within them....

   No. She had no right to think about him. But she could not stop her eyes from wandering to the parking spaces outside the diner where she first saw his car, and then the corner where he nearly ran her over. 

   She needed to stop. She cannot allow herself to think about him. She never thought about anyone, and as sinful as it was, she had secretly prided herself on never thinking of anyone, of remaining in her solitary world of fictitious lies.

   Erik was a person. He was a man. He was obviously handsome and wealthy and had many secrets. She did not like him and he did not like her. Even if he did... if he or anyone else knew about her... damaging problems, he would leave her and she'd only have her books to console her second broken heart. That heart that had not healed since it was broken the first time, with a wound that reopened every time her mother raised her hand. No, no one would want her after finding out about her, and damaged people did not want other damaged people. Whole people didn't want damaged people.

   Another broken heart would break her. And she already had one broken person in her life.

   Christiana shook her head and cleared her mind of dreams she was considering entertaining, when she never knew they existed before. It was a waste to dream of things that would never and could never happen.

   She was shocked, when half an hour later, Erik walked in. But she did not possess the pride or self confidence to think he came to see her. He surely did not.

                          ✖

   Erik trembled as he walked in and saw Christiana stacking books at the counter. Her green eyes glanced at him and she nodded in greeting.

   He stupidly waved. Trying not to look likean idiot he wandered over to the travel section, which had the best view of the counter.

   The angel of beauty looked stunning today in a pastel blue sweater set. A blue scarf with white daisies hung around her neck, and the entire outfit brought out her emerald eyes.

   He pretended to peruse the titles in front of him, while discreetly allowing his eyes to flicker to her, wondering how on earth he was going to do this. He felt so idiotic. Erik considered giving up and leaving as fast as he could, but he wouldn't allow himself to. He was there, he had to do this.

   The travel section meant nothing to him. He had been to every place he viewed as worth visiting and did not plan on going again; he would stay at his house forever if he could. But he pulled out three books anyway, having no clue what place they were about, and approached the counter. He had no clue what he was doing.

    "Hello, Christiana," he breathed out. Since when had his voice - the voice that many had described as hypnotic when they first heard it - turned breathy? What a fool she must think him.

   "Hello Erik," she said, her eyes meeting his. She offered him a small smile and his breath caught in his throat.

    She rang up his purchases after scanning the titles. "Are you planning on going to France?"

  "No," he said, not quite realizing what he was saying as he was still suffering the affects of her smile. "I've already been, and while it's lovely, I don't want to go again." What had he said? She probably thought him crazy now; buying three books about a place he had been and was not planning on going back to!

   He expected her to ask him why he was getting the books, but she surprised him.

  "I don't want to pry or waste your time... but what is France like? What did you see?"

  It was Christiana's selfishness that made her ask this. She knew she shouldn't be holding a conversation with him, but she was just so curious.

   "France is lovely, especially Paris. I was able to visit the Notre Dame, Palais Garnier, the Louvre, Versailles, and the seine." All at night of course, but he didn't add that. "I basically visited every Gothic structure there was."

  "Oh, Gothic Architecture is beautiful." She revealed to him a happy eagerness he had never seen before. Christiana lit up before him and he longed for more.

   She opened her smiling mouth to say something else but then her eyes glanced out he window and her entire demeanor changed. She seemed to sink into herself and she lowered her eyes to the floor, paling considerably. Erik looked out the window and saw nothing that caught his attention.

  Before another drastic change Erik decided to ask as quickly as he could. "I remember hearing about a gathering this Friday, and I was wondering -"

   But she was handing him his bag and receipt. "Please excuse me." Her voice came out as a meek squeak. "Mr. Cathy!" She called, nearly running into him as the old man came out of the office. She half sprinted to the back of the store and quickly disappeared behind the shelves that towered over her small frame.

  "Hello Erik, nice to see you. I'm glad you could come by."

  "Hello. Is Miss Christiana alright?"

    Mr. Cathy shook his head. "I don't  -" he peered out the window. "Oh, well that explains it." Erik looked again but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

   "I'm sorry but what explains what, exactly?"

   Mr. Cathy turned back to him. "Oops, I forgot you don't come here very often or seem to know the people. Do you see the woman in the dark pink cardigan on the corner?"

  Erik spotted her. "Yes."

   "That is Christiana's mother."

   Erik did a double take. The woman looked nothing like Christiana. She was angular and sharp, her skin was loose, and her eyes were dead. Her face was emotionless, thin, and languid. Her clothes hung off of her frame, almost as Erik's did, yet he had not quite reached that level of decay. She was in her sixties and everything about her screamed of coldness.

   "Christiana always changes when her mother is around. She shuts down, she can't look anyone in the eye. She has to walk behind her mother. Mrs. Dame talks for her... very strange relationship those two have. Rumors say Mrs. Dame only allows Christiana to work just so the bills get paid. She herself is a bit of a hermit, but whenever, ob the rare occasion that she does go out, and Christiana is with her... it's like my little Christine loses her light. She changes, as you just saw," he stopped suddenly. "I don't want to scare you off Christiana. I know you tell yourself you don't like her just as she tells herself she doesn't like you, but you both are just being stupid and stubborn - no offense."

   Erik simply nodded for him to continue.

   "I remember when Christiana was young... before the accident that took her father," Erik's breath hitched. He personally thought parents were a waste and ridiculous, overrated persons, but he knew other people thought differently. "They were a happy family. But things changed. What you saw today was a product of that."

   Suddenly the door opened and good-looking young man stepped in.

  "Hi Mr. Cathy," he said, making a beeline for the back of the store and Christiana.

  "Hello Ray." Mr. Cathy smiled. "Anyway, Erik, I'll get the form for you." He pulled a sign up sheet for the costume contest out from under the desk.

   Erik quickly filled it out. Just as he was handing his form back to Mr. Cathy, trying to process what he had learned, both of the men's attention was diverted towards the back of the store, as an irritated voice rose.

   "Now, I don't think Ray will hit me, but I do think you are much more intimidating, and if you come in and save her, it will make you look good in her eyes. So I'm going to ask you if you'll go check out what's going over there. And a tip, don't come on too strong or she'll get scared. Just ignore her and she'll ignore you and then you'll come together."

   Questioning Mr. Cathy's mental state and intelligence since nothing and nothing does not make something, just as zero and zero do not equal one, Erik went to the back of the store.

   Ray left when he saw Erik, with a parting, "I'll get an answer one way or the other."

   Christiana smiled in relief.

   "Thank you. You have great timing."

   Erik halfheartedly laughed, which was more than he had done in years. Possibly ever. "That remark makes me question what you consider good timing. It was my good timing that nearly made me run you over."

  "And it was your good timing that made you break when you did," she pointed out.

   "True." Erik paused. "Christiana, I didn't get to finish my question earlier. About the event this Friday  - will you please give me the gift of allowing me the honor of accompanying you to -"

"Christiana!"

   With one word from Mrs. Dame's mouth, Christiana shrank into herself and refused to look in anyone's eyes. She tried to make herself appear small.

   "Mr. Carnton just told me he has asked you to a party and that you would not give agree or answer him. Why were you so rude and why could you not agree?" The woman's tone was coolly monotonous.

   Christiana did not take her eyes off the floor. What she said next made Erik's heart miss a beat.

   "I am sorry mother. But I couldn't agree because I am going to the party with someone already... with Mr. Stanton."