(Unknown POV)
When was the last time I had a decent piece of clothing on? I can't remember but it was surely before I was locked up in this place, to think that something as simple as not being cold would be so alien to me.
Why? Why be so nice to us? Why show us his face? Why doesn't he look at us the way other men look at us? Why is his smile so warm?
I don't have the answer to any of those questions, I can only stand in a daze as I lose myself deep in his blue eyes praying that this dream never ends, that this sense of security is not an illusion; that his smile is not a lie.
But I don't dare to believe, I don't dare to hope… I can't, if I let myself believe again, I'm afraid of wanting to die when everything goes wrong.
"Can you walk?" The dark-haired man whose name is unknown to us asked.
