Rafael woke up to the soft tap of Marco on his face and the feel of his hand massaging his forehead.
'I fell asleep on his lap... I really don't like my life,' Rafael thought, keeping his eyes closed. 'What if he's just grooming me to kill me? Then I'd be dead, and I would receive my condolences from Mrs. Lopez. What a strange way to go... unexpected, though.'
He sighed inwardly, finally mustering the courage to open his eyes. He blinked a few times, his vision clearing as he noticed Marco, seated beside him, his gaze glued to the TV. Yet, it was evident Marco's thoughts were elsewhere; his body language betrayed him.
His rigid posture, the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his fingers unconsciously tapped against the armrest—it was clear his mind was miles away from whatever was playing on the screen.