"So, where are you going?" Raphael asked, a touch of impatience entering his tone.
"Somewhere."
"Seriously? Can you just properly answer my questions for once?"
She side-eyed him, quite annoyed. "No"
This guy is so frustrating.
Her eyes again on the gravels of her path. "See you, mister." She started walking past him into the lifelessly daunting streets of Risdon.
"Where are you going?" He shouted, as if no one may hear , his voice tight with urgency.
"Somewhere."
He caught up to her as he gripped her arm, stopping her. "You have your father in prison, won't you do something about it?"
She finally met his gaze and with a tenseless undertone she replied, "Is there anything to do?"
He stared at her, eyes widened "I can't believe you."
She calmly moved out of his grip, "Don't, then". She resumed her feet.
She continued her steady walk as he murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. "Your father. He was a great man."
She paused yet again, glancing at him. His gaze was fixed on the ground, his shoulders slightly hunched. She could see the tremor in his hands. It was evident how fiercely he'd been battling to maintain composure. It was hard work, she recognized that much.
He looked up. His sorrow felt forever imprinted in the lines surrounding his deep brown eyes as he extended his hand, palm open. A silent invitation hanging in the void. "Join me. You must continue on behalf of him."
With her eyes opened wide and tremoring, such a request was unexpected afterall...with a decisive undertone she said,
"No,thank you" slowly moving her head in both direction as she locked her eyes into his.
The determination in them was pressing her down as she tried her utmost to escape, to escape the thrill, to escape the work, to escape the unnecessary work. Somehow, with a great amount of force applied against its downward push, she had resumed her wayfaring.
He halted, following her no more.
By this time, she has travelled quite a significant distance away from him. She couldn't help but wonder what shall she do now that she has no home to go back to.
Where am I going, really? Her eyes darting place to place like a gypsy, wandering. Maybe she could work at a cafe, or a hotel as a receptionist. That would be great. Or maybe she could devote herself to the nation, be a anti-sex league member and promote pleasureless living. Living for the sake of living. The party loves people who live only to live.
Amidst all the wandering around of her eyes and her mind she hadn't noticed when Raphael has caught up to her. "Yolanda!" Her eyes had to lay on him for he sounded so desperate. He was definitely desperate for he seemed exhausted from head to toe. Suppressing ones emotions take substantial work.
"Come with me." He muttered—firmly.
Life must be lived even if its tedious.
"Why should I?" She stated loud and clear.
"Because your father had told me to take you as my collaborator if he was to be caught." It appeared as though he has revealed a secret abruptly.
Her brows still slightly furrowed and her face sour with a slight frown.
"I have a task on my sleeve. I would need a partner to work with." He muttered looking into her eyes.
"Fool. What if I report you to the police."
"Would you?" He remarked with a slight curve of the edges of his lips yet eyes betraying them.
Life must be lived even if its tiresome. It really wouldn't hurt to do something thrilling for once.
"No I wouldn't"
And she continued, "Tell me more about this task of yours."