Two days later, right after I woke up, Hera bombarded me with a question, “But, seriously, what else do you every day?”

I looked at her funny, as if I hadn’t told her. “I told you before, didn’t I? Looking for food, doing nothing meaningful,” I reminded her again.

“Yeah, but like, what else?” she asked, sounding a bit frustrated. “The first morning I was here, we went for a walk because I had food. Yesterday, we didn’t do anything because I got myself some food, too. Today, I got some food too. Are we going to stay inside the house again?”

I felt a little guilty. I didn’t know how she managed to befriend the baker somewhere in this area, but she had been consistently bringing warm bread in the morning. On the evening, we also ate the leftover breads, but I didn’t complain. It was great enough that I could consistently eat every day. Well, maybe I took her for granted. Just because she helped me once, and twice, and third time, I suddenly relied on her all the time. I casted my eyes down. “I’m... sorry.”

Hera must be surprised with my apology, because she didn’t say anything. She scratched her head and sighed. “Well, I word it wrong,” she admitted. Then, she asked, “What I mean is, how did you survive living like this, doing nothing and all?”

“I just... live,” I told her matter-of-factly, shrugging it off as if it weren’t important.

Hera tilted her head and looked straight at me. “Well, I should ask in a different way, maybe?” she chuckled a little, amused at my nonchalant nihilism, perhaps? She asked me, “Do you not work?”

I pouted right then. I never like that kind of question. It always reminds me of my social standing—nowhere, or maybe even under the ground. “No one will hire a homeless, poor person,” I said, sounding much bitter than I wanted. “Especially... in such a poor area.”

Hera stared at me in silent—that was awkward, I have to admit—before she leaned on the plywood of a wall. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that,” she whispered in guilt, covering her mouth. Then, she fell silent for a moment—maybe thinking what to ask and what not to ask—and decided to ask anyway, “Then... how do you acquire food daily?”

I expected this question, so I just shrugged it off. “I don’t,” I answered. “I never have food daily. There are times where I can’t have access to food. But mostly, I’d say... stealing old products or wasted food.”

Hera nodded. “Is that hard to do?” she asked again—which sounded ridiculous to me, dare I say.

I looked at her funny. “It is,” I replied. Well, obviously.

She looked at me as if she was walking on eggshells. I couldn’t blame her, though, her questions were a little too sensitive.

Well, I decided to lighten up the mood. “It was a bit fun when I was with my companions,” I admitted. "We stole stuffs, and we ran away from people. We would laugh, and all. You know, the rush of adrenaline?”

“Yeah,” Hera agreed, chuckling. “That sounds like it.” Hera then stood up, and just like before, she extended her arm to me. “Then, maybe we should do it together?”

And I thought, Wow, she’s crazy. But, I’m in!

And that was what we did for the next few days. We would steal some wasted foods, and we ran. We would ‘picked up’ the apples that fell from the cart, and we ran away with it. Sometimes, Hera would come up with the weirdest, most daring plans. Sometimes, I did the same. We would do reckless things for the sake of thrill. But just by that, I experienced excitement like never before. I could feel her caring nature. She took care of me, who had been lonely, and did everything she could to make me felt loved.

And, I did. I felt her love and compassion. I felt her healing my wounds. I felt her like a home.

One day, after yet another adventurous day, we were finally lying on our mattress, looking up at the ceiling of plywood. I couldn’t exactly remember what we did that day, but I recalled being so excited and euphoric the whole day, including when we were lying awake and tired.

“Are you awake?” Hera asked, her voice was bit of a whisper. Maybe, she was scared to wake me up if I had fallen asleep.

I turned myself so I could see her from my mattress. “Yes,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

Hera didn’t immediately reply. She gazed at the ceiling for a few seconds. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” she finally opened her mouth. “We should elope together.”

I didn’t trust my hearing when I heard that. “What?” I asked her to repeat, but she just turned her back against me and called it a night. I couldn’t help but chuckled. So, I said, “Well, maybe you’re right! Let’s elope!”