The little girl looked up at him, her mouth stretching into a smile to reveal her sharp little canines, "You must not call me Hannah!"

Like a cat with its fur bristled.

And very angry at that.

"I won’t call you that anymore," the boy quickly compromised, softening his voice, "then what should I call you?"

"My name is..." She paused for a moment and said just two syllables, "Hannah."

Without a surname.

"Okay, Hannah." The boy squatted down, keeping eye level with Hannah, then said very seriously, "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied to you."

By their side, the fire was still burning, and the dried, cracked tree branches snapped and popped.

Sparks jumped out, landing at the boy’s feet.

The boy, though only eight or nine, looked serious like an adult.

Hannah pursed her lips, her cheeks puffed out.

Having been out and about all day, her face was still dusted with grime.

"Are you still mad?" the boy asked her.

Hannah shook her head, then nodded, unsure of what to say.

It was quite a while before she spoke again, "Can I touch your eye?"

The boy paused.

He was a very cautious person.

Hannah held up a finger, "Just a little."

The boy hesitated, "If you touch it, will you not be mad?"

Hannah nodded.

She really liked his beautiful eyes.

"Alright," the boy conceded.

He lifted his head, exposing his neck, lowering his gaze.

Like a little prince from a fairy tale, his actions devoted and obedient.

Hannah wiped her hands, then carefully touched him.

Her fingertips were cool as they touched the corner of the boy’s eye, making him involuntarily shiver his eyelashes.

He instinctively clenched his fists, tensing up.

As if playing, Hannah gently touched the corner of his eye, then his eyelashes.

"Your eyes are so beautiful, if only I could..."

If only what? 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Hannah didn’t finish her sentence, instead pulling back her hand and sitting up straight, "Okay."

"Okay?"

The girl suddenly withdrew her hand, and the boy was still a bit slow to react.

His eye corner was a bit itchy, and he couldn’t help but rub it.

"Rubbing your eyes is not good," the little girl admonished him kindly.

The boy immediately stopped rubbing, "Do you feel a bit happier now?"

Hannah nodded, "A little."

The boy breathed a sigh of relief.

It was his first time cajoling a child.

And it was a girl about his own age.

"Do you have a name?" Hannah asked him.

"A name?" The boy looked up, those eyes under the warm yellow firelight appearing exceptionally deep and dark, "I... I don’t remember?"

He wasn’t lying.

He truly couldn’t recall his past, as hard as he tried to remember he could only recall fragments.

It was as though a complete memory had been shattered on the ground into countless pieces.

From those fragments, he knew he had once lived on a planet similar to Brie, with many people wanting to harm him, yet fearing something and not daring to make a move.

In the fragments of memory, those people were smiling, smiles kind yet their eyes filled only with greed, bloodlust, and extensive darkness.

Later, he was caught, stuffed into a sack, and thrown to Brie.

Those people said that on Brie, he would definitely not live to walk out, so even if he died, it wouldn’t concern them.

Then, he had met Hannah.

Her eyes were very clean, and he liked them too.

Hannah shifted to the left, then patted the space she had made, and told the boy, "Sit here."

The boy got up and sat down.

Two children ended up sitting on the same chair.