She remembers waking up to a foreign roof, in a foreign bed. She remembers the swelling fear from deep inside her when she realized that she's alone. She remembers hyperventilating because her brother is nowhere to be found.
She remembers the way her heart leaped to her throat when she saw an unknown man walked into the room from the corner of her eyes. She remember keeping her still, pretending to be asleep, like she always do, hoping that it would save her from her father's wrath.
She remembers the way the bed dipped when the man sat next to her, and for a split second she wanted to cry out in pure horror.
She also remembers how the man reached out and softly stroked her hair, murmuring words that she cannot hear. She remembers how he tended to the wounds in her eyes with tenderness that she never thought she would receive from anyone but her brother. She remembers the way her body relaxed when he patted her head almost adoringly.
But what she remembers the most is waking up once again after the man left, and seeing a tray of warm homemade food next to her bed.
Please eat. Your brother will be home soon, don't worry.
Bejo
And she remembers, more than anything, the unfamiliar warmth that filled her inside.
She has a home.
Since that day I first met you
I felt like I already knew you
She used to hate the fact that she was born as a girl. She hated her frail body, or her lack of strength. She hated that she can't run as fast as her brother, and she hated how she can't even fend for herself.
"Swing your legs upward, and aim for between the legs with your knee."
But then Bejo teaches her how to fight. He teached her how to utilized her lean figure and her agility, something that her brother did not possessed.
He teaches her how to used her fragile appearance to her advantage.
He teaches her how to overcome her fear and weakness.
What she's most thankful of, though, is how Bejo teaches and let her repay what her brother had done for her all their life.
She can protect him now.
It was natural for me to be where you were
But you've already chosen a different path
Alicia knows the difference between deaf and mute. She also knows that, even though she can't hear it, she have perfectly functioning vocal chords.
But she never used it.
It's scary, because she can't hear it. She doesn't know how her voice sounded, she doesn't know what she's saying or whether or not her making sense.
It's scary, because she remembers trying to talk when she was three years old, only to have her father throwing her across the room.
She can't hear him, but she knows he's angry. Her voice made him angry, even more than he already is. It's a traumatizing experience for a three years old, and it's etched in her mind that her voice would do nothing good.
Her brother has also given up on getting her to talk. She feels guilty, because she knew he would like to hear her call her name even if it's just for once.
He always tell her it's okay, that he understands, and she would apologize over and over again. But it's never enough to urge her to actually try and talk.
That is until she met Bejo.
Why couldn't I call out to you at all?
Every day and night growing emotions and words overflow
He saved her life, more than once. She owed him more than she could ever hope to repay. He gave her a home, a life, a future.
She wanted to call out to him, to properly thank him. But she can't.
More than anything, she's afraid.
What if he doesn't like her voice? What if her voice disgusts him, the way it did to her father? She could never life with that.
So she kept her silence.
But I realized that
They'd never reach you again
It is not a secret that Alicia despises physical contacts. Years of growing up in abusive household where the only touches she knew are those of violence did that to her. Even her brother respect her decision and keep their skinship to minimum.
Naturally, Bejo also kept his distance from her.
But during fights, physical contacts are unavoidable. Especially during life or death moments.
She remembers, that one time, when Bejo grabs her hand to warned her of an upcoming blade.
She remembers, that one time, when Bejo holds her hand as they ran for cover.
She remembers, that one time, when Bejo slung his arms around her shoulder and made her duck.
She remembers, that one time, when Bejo pulled her into his arms to protect her from a bullet.
Always, it's all were nothing but a fleeting moment. An instinctive movement done to saved her life. It never lasted more than necessary.
And always, it left those lingering sensation in her skin. It made her insides tingles, made her heart beats faster, and flushed her cheeks.
And she realized, that somehow, she wanted those touches to last a little bit longer.
Why didn't I hold on to your hand?
You should've always been by my side
Alicia has always been self-conscious about her appearance. It's not like she had that much of confidence to begin with, and it was all made worse by her deformed eyes.
She hated it, hated seeing her reflection in the mirror and realizing just how ugly she is. That's why she almost never took of her shades, because it helped covering up her flawed figure (and maybe, just maybe, because the gesture reminded her of Bejo and the way he almost never took off his own shades).
Somehow, though, she always feels more conscious than ever every time Bejo's around.
It's because she doesn't want to embarrass him, she told herself. She can't afford people looking down on him because he had this horrid looking girl next to him.
So she's careful, always careful, not to meet him without her shades or without putting on a presentable wardrobe.
It worth his offhanded compliments about her looking nice, though.
Honestly, she herself can't even remember when what Bejo thought about her started to matter that much.
She can't remember when she started to pay more attention to him.
She can't remember when she started to look at him as more than just a parental/big brother figure.
She can't remember when exactly her hearts started acting up at the sight of him.
She can't remember when she started to strive for his approval, for his praise.
For his attention.
But she does, and it somehow becomes an ingrained part of her.
No matter how much time has passed
No matter how much that would make me lonely
Alicia used to hate men. Everyone but her brother.
And yet, when it comes to Bejo, she feels something that is entirely different.
But she knew that this infatuation would not go anywhere, so she keeps it to herself.
Afterall, she's content with being his Hammer Girl, one of the assassins that he prided on.
She's content with being one of the few people that he trusted with his life.
Why did I end up falling for you?