Tapping

Chapter 2

The days had structure and routine to them as requested. Something I could do very well. It wasn't as boring as one would think when you repeat the same strict string of activities. Things happened and I had my own time to do as I pleased. The rearranging of my room allowed me to hunt through antique furniture and decorations for example.

I loved it so much that with Brahms' permission (In the form of his doll mysteriously appearing in the guest room) I updated his child-like room to that of a grown man's. I used my adopted fathers' room as inspiration and a reference. Adding things I think adult Brahms would enjoy and do such as a writing desk with a beautiful vintage radio. I also included several pictures of the Heelshires and I at the theatre and their family portraits. It was important that this room was completely and utterly about him and his family. Tons of vintage music memorabilia decorated his walls as he clearly was raised to be a fan of music and the arts.

As it were, I also practiced my tapping in front of the piano and record player. Old habits die hard, I guess; I couldn't play piano but I could tap along with the recordings. I worried that this wouldn't be acceptable to this phantom child yet he seemed to not mind it and often had a record picked out beforehand. I'd come to accept the strange occurrences as signs from Brahms. I probably shouldn't have, I should have been cautious. I could have left when it became too familiar yet I felt comfortable and confident in our pseudo-relationship. That phantoms cannot hurt me, I am the living and he was not. A fool I was.

"So in the routine if I go," I click my heels twice and slide into the sound allowing the echo of a tap to drag, "You go." There was two taps from somewhere in the room distorted and muffled. Brahms had gotten very comfortable with acknowledging me. He often showed his personality to me and voiced (tapped) his opinion in regards to certain aspects of our life together.  "Perfect, Brahms. Then the next part." I gave a jazzy little section and he responds with a slight off beat tap rhythm. Suddenly, the air felt frustrated and angry, something that had been happening more and more. He hadn't caused much of an issue outside of the whirlwind messes in his room. An occasional vase or picture frame was smashed to pieces at the very worst. "Oh Brahms honey, its okay, wanna try again? Here." I repeat the tap section and he taps it out correctly this time. The air lightening up once more. "Good Job, Bubby. Now last part we can do together. Can you remember?" I tap out the slow section and hear him tap alongside me in the melody. He's improved in the short time we've acknowledged each other. "Oh, Brahms that's perfect. It's time for free time and your nap. I'm going to town to retrieve some things I need. Is that alright?" There was one tap and I smiled, picking the doll up lovingly. "Thank you." I put him in the now dark navy blue room, it humored me to see the child doll in a man's room. I removed his shoes and socks before tucking him in to the large oak canopy bed. "Have a wonderful nap, Bubby."

I returned half an hour later with my bags. One bag was men's clothing, simply cause it looked odd to have children clothing in Brahms' new closet. "Brahmsy, I'm home. I also got you some new clothes for your closet. They look so nice. You'd be so handsome in them. I imagine you'd be a large man like your father, huh?" A lot of them were suits and sweater vest outfit but there were pajamas and casual clothes as well. As I said I imagine he took after his father in his prime, a large able man. And a few undergarments, because I value consistency in details. The only thing I didn't buy were shoes; mostly because I was envisioning a large man, it was impossible to guess a shoe size. I took my time getting to Brahms' room to find the doll gone. I throw the clothes on the bed in a panicked state as I search the area. "Brahms?!" I run around the upper level looking for him. "Maybe he was making his way back to the room." I take a deep breath and head back to Brahms' room to find a very large man wearing a mask that resembled the very doll he was holding.

A man
That I didn't know
Was holding
Brahms
In his room.

Before It processed I began to scream and sped out of the room. I hid quietly in a hallway broom closet, listening to him move back and forth between my own room and Brahms'. It was clear he was familiar with the house. "Y-Y-Y/N," I hear him stutter in a childlike voice. Oh fuck me that's scary. Quiet and carefully, I take a big breath in, I have to go back like a badass. I needed answers and to survive this encounter. He didn't seem aggravated by any means. I tiptoed back to Brahms' room. "Who are you?" He turned towards me as he lifts the doll, as if to say that's the answer. "You're Brahms?" He nodded and glancing around the room, occasionally stopping over some of the new items he'd been interested in. Finally, his gaze lands on the clothes. He pointed at the tipped over bags, "M-m-mine?"

He stared at me, his head tilted to the left, long brown hair falling over his face. "I don't like the child voice, Brahms. It makes me uncomfortable. We've communicated with taps, intelligently having conversations. I expect that same thing in person." I don't know where I got the courage to say that but the moment I saw the huffing build up in his body, I felt it drain from me. He reached out quickly, grabbing me by the throat. I was terrified but if I showed it, I'd lose all the authority I'd built with him. "S-S-Shut Up," he growled with his hand holding gently around my neck, his voice ridiculously deep now. "Where were you hiding all this time?" I whispered firmly, I could breathe but I could also feel his strength. He pointed to the wall, still upset clearly. It took me a minute to fully figure out what he meant. He had been tapping on the inside of the walls. He had been watching me, get in the bathtub with the doll, and more probably. That's right! His schedule! I nodded the best I could, "Brahms, it's time for your bath. Is that still something you would like to do?" He nodded and seemingly calmed down as he let me go. "Okay, Lets pick out some casual clothing for you."

We spent a few moments picking out dark gray sweats and a black tee shirt that had a music note on the chest pocket. I was still so very unsettled by this grown man, by Brahms as anyone would but it was my job to take care of him. I'd continue to do that until it became to dangerous to do so. It was like before except the phantom child was a fully grown large man. We got to the connected bathroom and like everything else, the toiletries I picked out were for a man. I ran a bath while Brahms removed his shirt. I stood up quickly, "whoa, there. Mr. Heelshire, that's a bit inappropriate." He mumbles in the terrifying child voice again, "b-b-bath." I couldn't very well get in the bath with him so to prevent the newly violent tantrum he'd had in the room, I add bubbles to the bath and closed my eyes hoping I added enough. "You can undress and get in the tub, Brahms." I heard cloth tussle about and then a slight splash. I opened my eyes and the bubbles covered what needed to be.

He kept the mask on but I didn't say anything about nor could I really bring myself to care. I take a towel and soap it up with a woodsy handcrafted soap I got from a farmers market one of my days out. This seemed like a good time to get some more information about him. I had to approach it carefully. "So, Brahms' how old are you since you're not dead?" I asked as I cleaned his neck and shoulders. Wow, so much for being subtle. "T-Twenty-nine," He responds, so he's aware of time and his information. Dirt fell from his shoulders and down his chest and back. His voice probably hadn't been used in a while which explains the whole stutter thing. "My b-birthday." I looked up at him, "Your birthday?" "Four days." I rinsed his back pretending not to notice the hulking muscle built up there, "Your birthday is in four days? Would you like to celebrate it?" He nodded, more excitedly than I'd been expecting.

I touched him softly as I soap up his arms and chest. "P-p-pretty...p-prettier than Greta." I looked at his mask and smiled carefully, "Thank you, Was Greta your friend?" He stopped all movement but shook his head, his vibe getting darker. "She left me, I should have killed him. Killed him like the others. She left because of him." " I see, you are right, that's not a good friend. Perhaps we can be better friends." He shook his head, "Not friends like Greta....friends like mom and dad." I slowed down out of concerned about the subject as I finished rinsing him. I wiped his mask for him, still slightly afraid but not willing to show it.

It seemed like I'd gotten away with it until he grabbed my trembling hand when I tried to clean his jawline at least. "I'll let you finish up here, Brahms." He didn't say anything for a moment but when I pulled away, his hand tightened up. "Y/N, we were both objects to others before...you wouldn't leave me, would you?" I gave him my best smile and made a dark joke out of nervousness, "Not while I'm still breathing I guess." He made a pouty sound, "I wouldn't h-hurt y-you." "Of course not, Brahms, who else would teach you to tap?" I stood and walked out of the bathroom. "Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?" I made my way to my room, " He's just a roommate, who I'm caring for. "

A/N: Hope you enjoy the second chapter. I have been so unmotivated with this book, I'm sorry. I'm trying to really get this going. I haven't abandoned it and I still hate it. But I love y'all and Brahmsy so let's see how it goes.