Radley was glad for the day off with her ragtag group of thieves, having wanted nothing more than a break to just lay down and relax. She was lying on an old pillow that was her favorite, all squishy and hardly any support, but it was perfect for her as fluffy as her hair was.

Propped up on her chest was an old book that had been discarded from one of the thrift stores, a hardcover fairy tale book that had seen far better days. Her clothes matched the book almost perfectly, ratty and well-worn beyond their use, but both were worn with lots and lots of love.

Her brother had caught her looking at some nice clothes in a shopping mall - anything purple caught her eye, as it was her favorite color - but she had always brushed him off whenever he asked. Food was a necessity that could be stolen - clothes were a luxury, and Radley was as low key as they came. She didn't like jewelry or anything fancy - just books about princesses and dragons and knights that always saved the day from the bad guy. Even if they had bad days, they always came out alright in the end.

She wished that their own group could achieve that.

Setting down the book with a sigh, Radley blinked back tears and tried to shove the slight feeling of depression away, moving to get up. Maybe the coffee shop would take pity on her again and give her her usual free cup of coffee.

Radley had never been keen on the idea of living day by day, but what choice did they have? Both her and her twin brothers' parents died from unknown causes when they were younger, and instead of being torn apart and sent to different homes, they decided to brave the streets and stick together.

Other kids had thought the same, and ended up joining them and creating a ragtag group of people that looked out for each other - it was, of sorts, a home. Not a solid one, but one that could be counted on, as long as they kept their wits about them, and kept the cops off their tails.

Breathing into her cupped hands as Radley stepped out into the cold morning air, she jogged to the coffee shop and was surprised to see that the morning rush had already died down. Had time passed faster than she originally thought? Shifting her eyes to the clock, she sighed - it had been longer than she thought, and the girl rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to scrounge in her pockets for whatever change she could find.

Beggars couldn't be choosers, but Radley just couldn't stand her coffee black.

"Radley," One of the workers murmured softly, an older woman with blonde hair and a smile that would melt an ice cold heart. "Some people paid it forward, so this coffee's on the house." There was a cup already waiting with coffee in it, and the woman picked it up with ease, pressing it into Radley's hands without another word.

Silently, Radley took a sip and realized that there were flavors in it, and tears welled up in her eyes as she drank about half of the coffee, not caring that the brew was scalding her tongue.

"Hey, hey, take it easy." Glancing to her coworker who nodded, the blonde woman led the girl to a seat and sat next to her, rubbing her shoulders. "You don't need to drink it down that fast. It's not going anywhere."

Choking back a hiccuping sob, Radley forced herself to set the coffee down and nod, surprise showing further on her face as a scone was set next to the coffee.

"I know it's not much, but life is hard out there on the streets." The woman took Radley's hand and squeezed it gently, giving another beautiful smile, making Radley feel like she was the luckiest person in the world to have someone like this to talk to almost every day.

"Thank you." Squeezing her hand back, Radley smiled as best she could in return before withdrawing her digits to pick up her scone and eat it slowly.

Her stomach rumbled in protest at the lack of food, but the girl realized that she had to take it slow, otherwise she'd feel sick.

She found that out the hard way, a couple of times.

"I have to get back to work, darlin', but stop by again, you hear?" The blonde woman grinned as she got a nod for a reply, standing up and returning to her work behind the counter.

((TBC)))