Brahms Heelshire Boyfriend Scenarios

When You And Him First Meet

Brahms Heelshire
A fresh start is what you needed. A new life even. Whatever it was out of the two options, you knew you would find it when applying for a requested maid service.

Before you accepted the job after being hired, you needed to acquired a living arrangement. Thankfully, you were provided one, and at the house you'd be cleaning and taking care of no less.

The home was located in a remote village within England. Since you were already living in the United Kingdom at the time, it wasn't a challenge for you to overcome. You were in desperate need of a job, especially since you were on your own now.

The trip to the home was long, and rather exhausting as well. A town car had been sent out, since the bus didn't have the Heelshire's home on route. You didn't know much about the place you'd be living or working at. Malcom, the man on the phone and who placed out the add, mentioned he'd explain all that you needed to know when you arrived.

Two hours outside the town limits and you were the. The Heelshire home was in fact a mansion. A victorian mansion that reminded you of the Craigdarroch Castle. "I have to clean this entire place every day?" you asked yourself.

Before you could even tip the cab driver for advice, he drove away. Quiet quickly actually. You were lucky enough to have taken your suitcase out of the seat when you stepped out of the vehicle. The manor had a grim design, and it appeared to be in the process of being repaired.

"(Y/n)?" A male voice startled you. You gripped the handle of your suitcase, as if you were going to use it as a weapon. It was too heavy to lift. "Hi, I'm Malcom. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I thought you saw me waving," the man chuckled.

Malcom was a young man, and a handsome one. He had kind eyes, a charming smile, and vibe that seemed welcoming. "No, I didn't. Sorry. I was just shocked by this place. I didn't imagine it being huge," you explained. Again, Malcom laughed. "That's always said. You aren't changing your mind though, right?" he asked.

You shook your head and tugged at your suitcase. "No, no. I'm staying. I really need this job," you said. Malcom smiled and he offered to take your suitcase for you. Of course, you let him do so.

"Now, don't you worry about making this place spotless. You do have two days off out of the week. That is a Monday and a Friday," Malcom said. Once inside the manor, your jaw dropped. This place was larger on the inside than it was on the out. It was also gloomy and smelled like moth-balls. An old person scent. "Wow," you gasped. "You really weren't joking about a maid service needed."

Malcom scoffed. "Definitely not." He then yanked your suitcase to the stairwell. "Let me show you to your room first. Now, I won't be staying here, but the phones work if you need anything." You stared dumbfounded at Malcom as you followed him up the creaky staircase.

You thought all servants that attended to caring for the house lived together. At least that what the novels you read had stated.

"Oh, so am I going to be alone? The owners still live here, right?" The simple idea of living alone in this sketchy mansion sent shivers down your spine. "Um, not exactly," Malcom muttered.

Until you were led to your bedroom, which was upstairs and the first door to the right in the hallway, Malcom didn't say anything else. He then peeked around the area, then gently pulled you into the bedroom and closed the door.

Now you were feeling unsettled. "Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire passed away. They left this house to their son, Brahms," Malcom then added. Your expression perked. "Oh, well, that's good then?" You had to pause when Malcom shrugged. "Ooo. Is he like creepy?"

Again, Malcom made a displeased face. "He's, um. He's interesting." You noticed the way Malcom's mood has changed. He behaved as if he had paranoia. He was constantly looking at the ground and around the dim bedroom. "He's a bit odd. If he decides to come out and make an interaction with you, just be kind. Stick to the house rules."

You felt your heart drop. "Stick to the rules? Why? Is he going to hurt me?" you asked. The hint of fear in your voice caused Malcom to reach for you. "No, no. I-I wouldn't put anyone in that type of situation." Malcom stuffed his hands into his pockets, then shrugged his shoulders once more.

"He's not a sociable person. He's odd. Not talkative. He just likes to watch whatever you are doing." You took in a deep breath. Anxiety was starting to fill your body and making your throat dry, stomach upset, and heart pump like a hummingbird's.

"Let's just move on, okay? I promise you dear, you are okay." Malcom opened the bedroom door, and that's when the tour of the mansion began. While Malcom explained what each room was on the second floor, you were constantly glancing around for Brahms.

"And lastly, the kitchen," Malcom huffed. "It's not much, and you'll see me in here most of the time." You gazed around. The kitchen had a cozy vibe. A cottage look to it. Throughout the walk through of the house, you planned on cleaning the library the mansion had. All of the books were unorganized and scattered everywhere. It made you cringe seeing such a cluttered space that you'd go to to feel free.

Malcom mentioned that he was the grocery boy as well as the maintenance man of the mansion. He constantly repeated himself that if you needed anything, such as a specific food item or chore done around the house, you ask him.

"Why don't you go get yourself settled in? I'll prepare a meal for you tonight, alright?" Malcom said. Even though he had a smile on his face, you felt wary about staying here alone. Especially after hearing the gossip about Brahms. "Yeah, sure. I'll get a feel around my bedroom. Make it feel like home, you know?"

You rushed up the steps, but didn't head straight to your bedroom like you planned. Instead, you stood still. Frozen. A tall and broad man was standing in the doorway of your bedroom. He wasn't in your room, only lingering as if he was confused on seeing a suitcase next to the bed.

You felt your hands tremble. As much as you wanted to ask if he was Brahms, you kept quiet. You even tried sneaking away, until you turned and bumped right into Malcom's chest. "Ah, Brahms," he called out. You were scared. You almost wanted to scream when the man turned to look at you. He was wearing a mask. A porcelain doll-like mask. "This is (Y/n)," Malcom said. "A maid here, okay?"

Brahms tilted his head towards you. He didn't say anything, only stared. You smiled awkwardly. Even waved, which you felt immediately embarrassed about. "H-hi, Brahms," you whispered. "That will be her room. You will be kind and respectful, got it?" Malcom asked rather seriously.

Brahms did a simple nod, then took a step to the side so you could enter your bedroom. Malcom gave you a gently nudge, and you went straight to the room. You gave Brahms a glance. You made direct eye contact with him as well. Odd, very odd he was. Creepy as well.

"Dinner will be ready shortly," Malcom added. You smiled once more, then quickly closed the door when Malcom turned to head down the stairwell. You could hear his footsteps stomp on each step. The stairwell was hollow and knowing that made you feel a bit easy. At least you can hear someone if they come after you.

(I went with a different format. Let me know if y'all like it. I usually have it all together, not spaced out like this.)