The Accord
Mush eyed the woman across the cold expanse of counter in front of him. His chocolate eyes, usually so soft and beguiling, were as hard as steel, stubborn and decisive. The woman was relenting, the book in her hands trembling, as though it was trying to escape.
"Ten dollars is my final offer," Mush said firmly.
The woman sighed, her face collapsing into a broken down smile, one that she didn't really mean.
"Tell you what," she said in defeat, wrapping up the book in white paper and punching the price into the cash register. "I'll throw in a free ink pot and pen. How's that?"
"Excellent," Mush smiled.
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fin