Big Boy | BRAHMS HEELSHIRE X READER|

"𝒢𝑒𝓉 𝑜𝓊𝓉"

Cole grabbed your wrist tightly and shoved you into the room, your side hitting the pool table
aggressively. You didn't know why he was angry.

Fuck. It hurt.
"You did this didn't you!" Cole hissed as he gazed towards the writing on the wall.
It was written with blood. Judging by the squashed rat on the floor, you already knew what was used to write it.

You had no idea how that got there. Then you remembered what you said to Brahms. It HAD to be him. You knew Malcom wouldn't do this. Malcom was on vacation.

Brahms had answered your prayers, but now you needed new ones.

"You want me to leave huh? No one wants me here huh?"
You were alone. Besides some possessed doll you took care of for a living, yet what would it do?

"How petty are you Y/N, rats? Really?"
Cole grabbed your jaw, and pulled you in close. His large dark beard brushed against your chin. You felt his loose collared shirt start to wrap around you.
You knew what he could do, you knew exactly what he could do.

"I didn't do anything!" You exclaimed.
You were holding Brahms close to you, a trembling hand resting on the back of his head.

"What? Was it the doll?" Cole sarcastically smiled.
You nodded in fear as you stepped back.

"Oh, it's the doll now is it? Well we might as well break it huh Y/N"
Cole stepped towards you and tried to grab at Brahms.

"Don't touch him, you don't understand!" It was too late, Cole grabbed Brahms and smashed his porcelain face onto a nearby dining chair. Dust exploded from it. You couldn't process anything, you couldn't believe it until your eyes refocused on Cole.

You were faced with fear. You had never been more scared in your life.
But you were disgusted.
Filled, filled with a rage you had never felt before.
A heavy burden on your heart had suddenly synced with a pulse in your head.

How dare he?
How dare he interrupt your peace?
How dare he waltz in your life and book a fucking plane ticket like he's hot shit.
How dare he get in your face and yell at you.

You could no longer hear his yells. You had gotten so used to them, you tuned out to what he was saying. It was all the same wasn't it.

Your shoes rubbing against the expensive carpet when you backed up. Coles was looking down at you.
His spit getting onto your face.

Malcom was already gone.
No one was there to save you.

Cole brought his thick, dry calloused hand back in the air.

Lions don't show mercy upon they prey.
Why should I?

I felt the recoil of his hand against my cheek.
THWACK

But It didn't hurt.

You were raised in a family where your father would regularly get into fights because he never took anyone's shit.
You didn't always agree on everything. Especially with his behaviour.
Yet you had one thing in common.

A bitch hit you. You hit them back.

"YOU STUPID SLUT."
"YOU DID THIS DIDN'T YOU"
"I'M TAKING YOU EVEN IF ITS THE LAST THING I DO"
He grabbed the pool stick on the table and broke it into two.
If you didn't do anything the blood on the wall wouldn't be the only blood there.
"LITTLE Y/N TOO GOOD FOR ME HUH?"
You felt his chest press against yours.

You were too good for him

You threw a hook.
You saw a look of utter disbelief on his face, and lowered your stance with your firsts by your sides.

You were exhausted. He woke you up at 4am over some damn writing on the wall.
You were so..fucking tired.
You just couldn't give up.

"C'mere you..fuck..er"
Sharp sudden breaths alternating between your words.
Your stance swayed yet not your mentality, your hair dancing in front of your eyes.

Suddenly.
The lights began to flicker.
Enough to catch even Cole off.
Everything began to shake.
Cole seemed to have taken a wary step towards the mirror, listening into it.
A face of concern sprayed onto his face.

"There's something in there-"
CLASHHH
Glass shards threw everywhere as so did Cole. Coles body flying through the air resulting in, a loud thud from his drop, that seemed to vibrate through the floor.

You couldn't see anything in the shadows of behind the mirror. Yet you knew something no someone was there.

"Y/N....?" Spoke the same childlike voice you knew too damn well.

It was Brahms.