"Bunnyyy, Bunnyyy!"
"Ye-yes, Munchkin?" A ten-year-old Ilyan kept aside the book that he was reading when a pair of tiny fists began to hit on his back. "Sorry, sorry, you have my attention now. Ow. Stop hitting me, pleaseee?
He carefully pulled his little friend in front of him, and held his ears apologetically as she frowned, refusing to look at him. "I am sorry, Munchkin! I am so sorry."
"N..oooo. NO. NO. NO." She stubbornly shook her head. "You love your books more than me." Stomping her foot, she ran outside.
"No, I don't," he confessed but she was not in the reach to hear that.
Ilyan slapped his forehead before rushing behind her.
"Slow, Munchkin. Be careful," he yelled, watching her run forward while continuing to turn back to him every two seconds.
And as expected, she stumbled and rolled down on the grass.
