Biker

Yonnie's head lowered as if he had been lost in thought.

"Biker. Call me Biker." He said, with a barely perceivable nod. His hands dropped to his sides, before sliding into his pockets, and he looked out over the edge of the rooftop into the street.

"I saw it, yesterday. The bank? Saw you two. You work good together."

He then turned, walking towards Ariana.

"And you, I like the way you think. You don't seem like a follower. Maybe we oughta...talk about it sometime?"

And he didn't leave room for a response, having walked past her mid-sentence, his hand was already on the door. His last question hung in the air, open-ended, only to be punctuated by the clank of the door shutting closed. It wasn't forceful, but stern.

This is it, it said. For now, at least.

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