Hopelessly Devoted to You (A Brahms Fanfic)

♥ ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ: ʀᴏᴅᴇɴᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟꜱ & ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ♥

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 "I wrote a goodbye note

In lipstick on your arm

When you passed out

I couldn't bring myself to call

Except to call it quits"

     The young male's headphones are muffled, the guitar and bass sound overpowered by the wind gusting through the open taxi window. The faint rustle of autumn leaves and branches scraping the car stirs him awake. He wipes drool from his mouth and sits up, peering into the dark November night as the car continues down the road. As the overgrown trees clear and the taxi cab veers off the asphalt of the main road onto a dirt path, the young male squints through the lights of the taxi's high beams, making out the large and looming mansion his friend and he will be staying in.

     When the driver gets out to unlock the gate, the male shifts over to nudge his friend awake.

"Best friends

Ex-friends till the end

Better off as lovers

And not the other way around—-"

      The song dulls out for a moment as the male, Daniel's, voice carries into his friend's ear, stirring them awake. "Hanna, Hanna, we're here."

      The red-headed girl grumbles and squirms, trying to rub the jet lag out of her eyes for a moment or two before she sits up. "'Mh... I'm up..." When her eyes finally open, she unbuckles her seatbelt and steps out as the driver parks, taking in the sight of the house, lit underneath the moonlight, the high beams, and the dim yellow look of the windows lit up inside.

     Daniel eyes it as well as he crawls out, making an effort to not bump his head on the roof. While Hanna eyes it with more awe, Daniel eyes it skeptically.

            "They really should have brought up the whole 'old haunted murder vibe' when we got the job," He comments, and she chuckles, watching through her eyelashes as she admires every slope and points to the house's design.

      "It's just historical," she said, her tone, as always, much more positive than his.

       Dan murmurs under his breath, unconvinced, as he reaches for his bag. He's surprised to see the taxi driver already carrying their luggage up to the porch, treating them like royalty—a stark contrast to how he was treated back in the States as a poor 'juvenile' college kid. He glances back to find Hanna adjusting her appearance in one of the side mirrors. Stepping closer, he catches both of their reflections in it.

      Hanna's skin is pale, fair, and freckled. Her nose is downward, 'crooked', although Daniel never had a belief that that meant it needed correction. Her hair reminded him of sunshine and his nana's orange trees in Florida. He likes her most the way she is right now; one of his hoodies, unzipped, draped over her sleepy form to keep her warm. Underneath is the button-up she found at the nearest thrift store and a pair of high-waisted dress pants– a sight he didn't enjoy as much as seeing her in his hoodie. He didn't like the notion they had to play dress up to get this stupid job, but he didn't say that. Her hair is trimmed short, the length cutting off an inch or two below her chin, just grazing her neck. Textured bangs overthrow the sides of her face, framing it nicely, although he enjoys it just as much when it's up in one of her buns or her braids for bed. In shorter and less descriptive words, Daniel has always found her enchanting, even when she's running on 3 and a half hours of sleep, a Redbull, and a donut.