Chapter III

First song

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"Bee, bee, bee, a giant bumblebee…"

A little girl's voice sung in a hushed tone, almost whispering the words. Her hand was pressed against the glass of her room's window, those charcoal eyes of hers staring at the setting sun.

"Abeille, abeille, abeille, a géant bourdon…"

The little girl now sung the same line in French, Her favorite. She studied French when she was 10 and stopped when she was 11, because they were leaving for England. And she didn't want any other teacher than the one she had back at their own country. At first he couldn't understand a word she was saying, but he finally understood them when she mixed the sentence in English and French.

"Bee… Abeille…a giant… a géant… bumblebee…bourbon…"

She was pronouncing V as bee. And he both found it charming and irritating. She was deliberately deforming his name and she fumed whenever he mispronounced hers by accident.

She'd aggravate him to no end and when she found it too much, she'd charm his affections back.

Oh, how ambivalent his heart was when it came to her, seven months had already passed since he came and lived with them, and still he found her confusing and surprising. He wanted to strangle her until she breathed no longer and he also wanted to keep her from harm's way, but thinking the first completely contradicted the second and thinking the second made him ask himself why'd he even thought of the first.

Oh. That's right. She scalded him several times while he was showering, constantly flushing the toilet every five minutes and she nearly choked him with milk, which she forced him to drink, because she suddenly attacked his very ticklish waist while he was drinking and instead of spitting it at her; he let it ooze out of his nose.

Yes. Tickle her while strangling her.

As if he'd spoken his thoughts aloud, that tiny head turned to look at him. Her eyes reflected the dark amber colour of the sun, making those orbs look like they contained enticing flames, ready to burn anyone she set her gaze to.

Okay… maybe he was exaggerating a bit about strangling her.

She tilted her head a bit to her right, and stared at him. A tornado of flames caught frozen inside her deep set eyes.

Okay. Now, there would be definitely no more strangling, only tickling.

After all, she was just a 12 year-old.

And she was also just a little girl.

And she did save his life.

He groaned inwardly, cursing himself.

"Tall and tan and young and lovely,"

She started to sing in a low, hushed tone.

"The girl from Ipanema goes walking,"

There was a relaxed and content smile on her face as she continued.

"And when she passes, each one she passes goes "a-a-ah…"

She turned her head back to face the window, swaying her body a bit to the song.

"When she walks she's like a samba that,

Swings so cool and sways so gentle,

That when she passes each one she passes goes "a-a-ah!"

Oh, but I watch her so sadly,

How can I tell her I love her?

Yes, I would give my heart gladly

But each day when she walks to the sea,

She looks straight ahead not at me

Tall and tan and young and lovely,

The girl from Ipanema goes walking,

And when she passes I smile,

But she doesn't see,

She just doesn't see,

No she doesn't see…"

Her eyes were glazed and sad when she looked back at him, a small kind of smile he rarely saw on her. She never looked this way before, especially when she was with him. She'd usually entertain him and laugh at herself and urge him to laugh as well.

"Sorry. I just felt like singing it. I hope my voice didn't make your ears bleed."

Normally, he begged her to stop every time he heard her sing, but she didn't deform this song like she deformed the others.

"No."

He slightly shook his head. And the tiny smile grew a bit, her eyes becoming clear. The uneasy feeling lessened.

"Not at all… I think I actually... like it…"

The tiny smile widened and she lunged for him, wrapping her thin, long arms around his waist, and he too, found himself smiling, the ache now was almost gone.

"What's the song?"

After several moments, she removed herself from him and looked up at him, her eyes wide and happy just like before. The feeling lessened even more. It was so much better to see her torture him than see her look this sad.

"The girl from Ipanema. Do you want me to teach it to you?"

"Yes."

Yes, yes. Now there'd be no more strangling… at least for some time. Aside from that, it felt good to make her smile.

"I'm glad."

"Why?"

He asked just like she would and tilted his head a bit like her. The smile turned bitter, an expression that she uncommonly used.

"Because… I won't be singing that song alone anymore…"

Her voice was low and almost a whisper. She looked away, her gaze back to the window as if she was searching or waiting for something to pop on the glass.

"It'll be good to hear you sing that to me. It's… special."

she almost seemed reluctant to say it.

"Special?"

"Uh huh..."

The girl nodded, slowly looking back at him.

Someone used to always sing that to me."

The tiny girl nodded, in a somewhat melancholic manner.

"But I don't want that person to sing it to me anymore, he's no longer special."

"Then why do you want to teach it to me?"

This was probably one of her erratic mood swings, if she didn't pop from being furiously angry at something petty to being happy at something so ordinary, she'd either be happy or down the entire day.

"So you can sing it to me."

"But why do you want me to sing it to you?"

"Because you're special."

She stated in a precious way, almost as if she was embarassed because it means something more... That... He removed what he currently thinking from his thoughts. That was silly and unnatural... And wrong. He shrugged it off, focusing his attention to her as she began to sway a little.

"Now... The girl from Ipanema goes walking…"