Tapping

Chapter 3

I found myself with a bit more courage, knowing that two or so days had passed without a tantrum. Brahms now took to doing some of his tasks alone, clearing space in my schedule to do things I enjoyed. I had begun planning a small birthday party for just the two of us. "Y/N?" His voice flowed better the more he used it. Although he didn't speak unless he needed to, he knew to use the regular voice but he  still used the childlike one. "Y-y/n!" I made my way to the navy room and looked at the large man. "Yes, Bubby?" He refused to answer to Brahms from me. "C-C-Can you make pasta for d-dinner tonight?" I raised an eyebrow playfully, " What kind of pasta?" He stared at me as if seeing something new, "R-ravioli?"
He fidgeted with the bottom button of the blue shirt he'd chosen today. His eyes darted back and forth avoiding my form all together.

"Brahms," He growled softly hearing the name, "Brahms, is something wrong? You look anxious." I gently pushed the question past his aggressive stance. He shook his head quickly, clearly wanting to be done with the subject. "How's the tapping practice going? Have you done your exercises today?" His eyes brighten as he stood up and did a small movement with his feet. "Wow! That's great progress!" I did a answer to his move and he made a small chortle sound. "W-will you make a d-dance we can do f-for birthday?" He asked softly, finally revealing the anxiety of asking me. "Of course, to what song?" It wasn't a difficult task as he was still a beginner but I wanted to make it special for some odd reason. "The song you sing ...during b-bath." His jaw ticked at the stuttered word but he didn't acknowledge it. "Of course, that shouldn't be too hard."

I began to make my way downstairs to the kitchen. Immediately, heavy, cheerful thumping followed me without hesitation. "Brahms? May I ask why you were in the walls?" It was risky but better to ask while he's in a good mood. "M-momma...Dad," he said in the childlike voice, clearly unwilling to fill the story out for me. "I see. Would you be... comfortable taking small trips out of the house soon?"

We entered the kitchen and Brahms sat at the table watching me wash my hands and pull ingredients out. "No, Bad boy, hurt people," he whispered ashamed. "How about a picnic? With me only? In the back yard?" I'd approached the idea before but he'd never given me a reason to his refusal. That had to be progress.

"With you? In a pretty dress?" His voice returned to that of man's, making the request all the more effective. "Sure, I'll wear a dress. You have to dress up too." I turned to look at him only to jump when he's less than three inches away, "Please step back, Bubby." He took a step back but took my hands and nodded, "A picnic with you." I couldn't read his expression with the mask but he sounded wistful. "It's a date." I joked softly. I wasn't uncomfortable with the affection, just a little confused. He let go and went to pet my head. I let him for a few moments before he walked away to the music room. I took a relieved deep breath and went back to cooking.

The hour of cooking passed by quickly when I was listening to Brahms play the piano. He stumbled over his own fingers at times but it was still beautiful. I took the time to set the small intimate table in the kitchen, seeing no use in dirtying the large dining room. "Brahms? Bubby?  Dinner is ready." I called out to him. The playing stopped and he shuffled into the kitchen. His button up had been removed and all that covered his physique was a plain white tank top. "Wash your hands, please. What would you like to drink?" I tried not to stare as he made his way to the sink and washed his hands. "Wine," He gruffly answered the question, shocking me. "Brahms ...I don't think–" His hands hit the counter top with force before he spun towards me, "Twenty-nine." I nodded softly, "You're right, you're an adult. But if you ever threaten me like that again, it's strike three. Am I understood?" He made a huffing sound before looking at his hands, "Sorry, I wouldn't... You know that, right? " I nodded in response though, I could never really be sure of that," Red or White? "  He scratched his head, "Red."

The trip to the cellar took a bit longer than I expected. After picking out my birth year in a red wine, I went back up to the kitchen. Brahms had a box in his hands, " Surprise! " He said excitedly thrusting the box to me. I set the wine down and took the box nearly dropping it. " Brahms, where'd you get this? " He coughed and pointed to the living room where I left my laptop. I smiled gently as I opened the box. Inside was a shiny toolbox in (Y/F/C) and a whole new set of restoration supplies. " Oh Brahmsy, this is so sweet of you. I'm.. speechless. How? " He simply shrugged, the way his mask sat on his face meant that he had a large smile. " Thank you Brahms. I love it. "  He took a seat at the small table, and poured the pair of us some wine. I could tell he was mimicking others he'd seen pour wine. "Not too much. You'll get a stomach ache." He nodded and pull back from the glasses. As I sat down, I was once again in shock as Brahms pulled the lower half of his mask up to reveal his jaw and lips.

And what a set of lips he had. A short beard lining them but also gave way to a set of scars on his jaw. Surprisingly, pearly white teeth revealed themselves when he took a sip. I must have made a sound because suddenly he pulled it back down. "No! It's okay, I liked it. I mean I like that you're getting comfortable."  He nodded and pushed the mask back up a bit but less than before only giving enough space to eat. We ate mostly in silence with short questions and even shorter answers. I have to admit that watching him speak was mesmerizing. We finished up dinner, cleaned after ourselves and enjoy the rest of our glasses of wine with a movie.  I'd love to say that I could handle my alcohol but that would be a lie. Half way through the movie, I laid myself against Brahms. He'd already finished his wine and just held me to his side. I could feel his nerves in how he rubbed my arm gently. "Y/N, Bed. Movie's done."  I looked up at him, "Okay. Okay." So we began the stumbling trek up the stairs. "I'd like to see you sometime. Ya know? You get to see this ugly mug often. I bet you're handsome." He growled at my drunken words, not giving a response. He picked me up, carrying me the rest of the way to my bed. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Brahms."