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Sleep had not come for the girl who worked herself tirelessly to make the gambling parlour and bar spotless. It would not be the first time she worked through the hours she should have been sleeping, but the knowledge that she would be wasting time trying was always a heavy burden.
Her hands always itched for something to do, a purpose.
On better days she found herself stealing books from Kaz's office and reading them on his windowledge.
The first time he'd caught her, he'd told her quite coldly to leave.
"Not until I finish this chapter," she had responded distantly, eyes never leaving the page. "The view from your windows much nicer than mine."
"What use is the view if you're not looking at it?"
She hadn't responded then, and Kaz had simply bit his tongue and carried on with his work.
She failed to tell him just exactly how many pages were left in the chapter, and ended up staying there past midnight, caught up in the colourful world of her book. If Kaz realised she had subtly conned him to get her way, he never addressed it. He simply carried on his work as she silently read.
Without meaning to, it had become a bad habit of hers. That and feeding sunflower seeds to the crows and magpies that congregated on the roof outside the same window.
On days like these where things were hard and her head hurt and it became more difficult to focus, Shan would find herself taking more time to clean up and set up for the next day.
The club was dying down for the night, bustling gamblers and drunkards stumbling their way home to revel in their wins and abundant losses alike.
The white haired girl weaved through emptying tables seamlessly, a tray balanced easily in one hand, her other plucking empty glasses up to collect as she muttered to herself 'the map maker will find a path' and 'girl of light, eyes bright, heart of gold to slay the night.'
Regularshad come to learn that the bartender was a strange woman who had a habit of talking to herself. It didn't distract her from counting out the correct coin and making the right concoctions of drinks, so no one really paid much mind to it.
The comments and snickers from newer customers went in one ear and out the other. Shan didn't care what people thought of her.
In a corner booth sat her friends, further away from the gambling tables and the rest of the customers still hanging onto the last droplets of their drinks before the doors shut for the morning.
The lack of windows in the parlour eluded to a sense of timelessness, tricking gamblers to stay just a few minutes more, trapped in their addictions and the need to win. If they did have windows, the sky outside would still be pitch black, the moon high in the sky mottled with incoming storm clouds.
