Not His Doll

Chapter 7

| Do You Easily Trust? |

Brahms had dressed her in an assortment of clothes. None of them matching to his standards as he would tear them from her body in frustration.
In the short time of being held captive, the peculiar man had tended to her wounds, bathed her, kissed her, and now he was dressing her as if she were a toy;

A doll, to be ironic.

"No, that's not right!" He tore the scarf from around her neck, tossing it to the ground in anger.

Her tired eyes bore into her own through the reflection of the mirror, legs falling numb from sitting in one place for so long.
Feeling gently around the bridge of her nose she winced, fingers retreating.

The dull ache his kiss left her served as a constant-throbbing reminder.
She hadn't quite placed what his intentions with her were, but this was something unexpected.
Something she may just be able to use.

Brahms dressed himself in clothes of his own. Unlike the rags he presented himself in before, this time he wore appropriate attire.
He wore a white, button-up long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Accompanied by a grey pair of dress pants that were supported by suspenders. He looked handsome, dare she admit.

He grew insistent she wore one specific dress. It's coral-pink color was faded, replacing what was probably once a radiant color. Despite it appearing withered it was the most modern dress she'd seen from the wardrobes. Y/n wasn't fond of it herself, but she had no say in the matter.
While fidgeting with the bottom of her dress she noticed an odd stain.

Examiming the fabric she furrowed her brows in thought. Nearly swiping her thumb across the suspicious stain she halted.
Curiosity grew to concern, then disgust as she dropped the fabric from her hand.

It couldn't be.. Is this-?!

Clasping his hands over her shoulders, she flinched as he turned her body to face him. He held her face in his hands, gently rotating her head as to study her.

Y/n's dearest feature were her soft lips, which are second to his favorite; her enchanting e/c eyes. They shared no similarities to his dark ones. Unlike Brahms, she still beared her innocence. He noticed how her eyes always darted from his, but he never put it against her.
If only she knew what thoughts plagued his mind. They screamed for blood-lust and for hers specifically.

He removed a gold tube from his pocket, twisting it to reveal a red lipstick. With precision he applied it upon her lips until it produced the beautiful poppy-red tint he desired.
Brahms dragged his thumb across her lips, slightly smudging it.

"My dear, you bewitch me." He spoke.

Brahms' mood swings were enough to cause whiplash. One moment he is cruel and demanding, and the next he puts on an act. His impulsiveness was just as dangerous as it was confusing.

"You will follow the rules, won't you?" He asked.

...Rules?

"..Yes, o-of course." She lied.

"You're bluffing." He snarled, standing abruptly.

"N-no!"

Y/n stood to reach for his hand but he grabbed hers first.

"I buture liars!"
He forced her back against the wall, pinning her hands above her head with one hand.

"I-I beg you, I'm telling the truth." Y/n pleaded.

"Why should I trust you?" He spat, pressing his weight into her.

"We kissed, did we not?"

His eyes softened and his grip loosened for just a moment.

"What does that prove?"

"O-only people who trust and care for one another kiss."

"More lies! You don't even know my name."

"Then tell me!" She yelled.

They both paused momentarily, chests heaving.

"I.. will go first."

"My name is Y/n." She sighed, gathering her breath.

"I am twenty-two years old... and I'm not from around here. Hell, I'm just visiting my sister." She quivered.

"Don't you get it? I'm not from here, I was supposed to leave back to the states tomorrow."

"But that won't happen." He stated.

"No," She forced her eyes to meet with his, her tears betraying her.
"It won't. So please.. what is your name? You owe me that much."

Brahms grew silent. His eyes drifted from hers to the floor in contemplation.
His grip loosened and she managed to free her wrists from his grasp.
Without another word he moved himself off her, taking place on the wall next to her instead.

Removing a folded note from his pocket he held it between his fingers, fumbling with the aged paper.
Eyes gazing into her own he reached his hand out, offering it to her.
Hesitantly she took the note.

She unfolded the fragile paper with caution, making sure never tear it.

-

Rules

1. No Guests

2. Never Leave Brahms Alone

3. Save Meals in Freezer

4. Never Cover Brahms Face

5. Read a Bedtime Story

6. Play Music Loud

7. Clean the Traps

8. O̶n̶l̶y̶ ̶M̶a̶l̶c̶o̶l̶m̶ ̶B̶r̶i̶n̶g̶s̶ ̶D̶e̶l̶i̶v̶e̶r̶i̶e̶s̶

9. Brahms is Never to Leave

10. KISS GOODNIGHT

-

Brahms.. where have I heard that name?

She scoffed,

"What is this?"

"Your expectations."

"And if I don't?" She questioned, voice appearing weaker than she intended.

"Follow the rules, I mean."

He leaned close, his porcelain lips brushing against her ear.

"Either follow the rules... or I'll gut you like a fucking pig."

~