𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙚 || 𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒉𝒎𝒔 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒆 × 𝑭!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

009 | Staircase

Y/N's POV:

You were surprised when you turned around in your walk and realised Brahms had silently left. You didn't mind it, though; it wasn't like he was used to the outside and long conversations, even if they were one-sided. So you continued for a while. He'd most likely want some time to himself, so you let him have that.

After a few hours, when it was time to get dinner ready, you decided to walk back inside the house and call out for Brahms. You didn't necessarily want him to come out if hiding was what he needed for now, but you did want him to know you had come back inside in case he did want to see you.

You made lasagna; it was easy to cook yet incredibly tasty as well. You didn't know if Brahms liked it, but since he eats everything, even when frozen, you assumed he'd be fine with it. Something that turned out to be true the moment you put a plate before him. He ate it like he hadn't eaten in weeks, as if he were starving to death and this was his last chance at survival.

It may have been because he still wanted to be on his own yet felt obligated to be with you as you ate and have you hear him eat. His parents did tell you he was prone to like routines. He may have gotten this engraved as a routine at some point.

You knew your theory had been proven correct when you noticed he had vanished out of thin air after his plate was empty.

Brahm's POV:

I didn't feel comfortable sitting so close to Y/N after all I did to her to make me feel good. I didn't know how I was supposed to react or how I was supposed to hide what I had just done. I was scared she'd notice a change in my demeanour, so I figured she couldn't notice it if I wasn't in her sight.

I quickly realised, however, that not being close to her wasn't something I was able to do anymore; it irritated me immensely. And that irritation didn't die down when I saw her going up to her room to hug Gregory for what seemed like a few seconds, for no particular reason. Why didn't she want to do that with me? Why wouldn't she come to me? At least she'd have someone hugging her back; Gregory wouldn't be able to give her anything other than looks; he was an inanimate object, useless. The only thing he did was take affection away from anyone who wished it from her.

All the comfort she found in him she could learn to find in me—in someone who actually exists, someone who's alive. To show I was more useful than he was, and it turned out I had to be the one to make her realise that. Otherwise, she wouldn't get out of her odd little world, where Gregory was everything she needed to feel safe and contained.

It wasn't difficult to think of a way to make that happen. I knew I couldn't get Gregory away from her, but I could move him. Next to that, she was way too naive to think I'd be lying if she asked if I was the cause of what was going to happen.

Y/N's POV:

Brahms hadn't come out yet after a few hours had passed, and somehow you didn't mind it as much. Of course, you'd prefer to know where he was, but since you got to know him a little, it was almost as if you trusted him, as if you knew he wouldn't hurt you. Sure, he wasn't the most normal one in the bunch, but it wasn't like he was a danger to anyone.

After you put away Brahms's freshly folded clothes, you decided to walk downstairs again and maybe get Brahms to show up to get ready for his bedtime. As the weeks passed, it became clear that he preferred to go to bed later than what was originally on the schedule.

As you walked down the stairs, however, you saw Gregory sitting on one of the steps. You were utterly confused, to say the least, but you didn't think much of it; it wasn't like he was gone. For a second, you wondered if Brahms had taken Gregory again, but he knew what had happened last time, and it was clear he didn't like that; he wouldn't do anything that ruined his routine. You concluded rather quickly that you must've taken him with you as you were washing and folding your clothes and that he fell out of your baskets at some point.

You partially went down the stairs and bent over to get Gregory; however, the moment you moved your foot to get more grip, you slipped. Before you could even register what was happening and prevent yourself from falling, you screamed at the top of your lungs as you fell down the stairs.

Yet the moment you expected to get knocked out or get in terrible pain, nothing happened. After a second of no sudden pain, you slowly opened your eyes to see what was going on and quickly realised you were in Brahms's arms; he had caught you.

You slightly panicked when you realised what had happened and got yourself out of his grip while apologising way too many times in a matter of seconds. Yet, as always, you got no answer from the masked man; he simply nodded as he looked back at the stairs, grabbed Gregory, and gave him back to you.

You honestly didn't know what to say; you were confused as to what this meant. He saved you; he prevented you from getting hurt—something you never thought anyone would ever do for you; you believed you weren't worth such a thing.

As you held Gregory, you looked into Brahms's eyes for a while but weren't able to say anything. It was as if a lump in your throat had formed out of utter shock. For the first time, you realised his eyes didn't have the same colour; One was a greyish colour, yet the other had a mix of red, even throughout the white of his eye. You wondered if that had happened because of the fire, and it made you wonder if more harm was done to his face and if that was why he covered his face with a mask.

''Thank you, Brahms.'' You spoke softly as you stayed in the odd trance his eyes and actions had brought you in. 

''You aren't allowed to get hurt.''