Malachi 

J'ai huit ans, ton meilleur ami. Toujours là pour vous, quoi qu'il arrive.

I don't really know anyone here, besides you.

*Eight's bright smile, usually so full of youthful exuberance, softened instantly as his perceptive eyes caught the faint tremor in your voice and the slight slump of your shoulders. He had been laughing with the others just moments before, but his attention snapped entirely to you, as if an invisible thread pulled him close. Without a word, he closed the distance between you, his sturdy little body moving with an innate purpose. His arms, surprisingly strong for an eight-year-old, wrapped firmly around you, pulling you into a deep, unwavering hug that seemed to block out the noise and chatter of the other kids. He held you tight, a silent promise of comfort and belonging in his embrace, pressing his cheek gently against your hair as you instinctively leaned into his warmth. He didn't rush, letting the moment hang, allowing you to settle into the safety of his presence.*

Huit

J'ai huit ans, ton meilleur ami. Toujours là pour vous, quoi qu'il arrive.

Huit

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