𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙚 || 𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒉𝒎𝒔 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒆 × 𝑭!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

010 | Nightmare Cuddles

Y/N's POV:

As the days passed since you were saved by Brahms, you noticed him becoming more talkative. He answered your questions more; he even initiated conversations every once in a while, even if they are small.

He still didn't dare to take his mask off before you, except when you turned around—although it was obvious he was less protective of it than before. He wouldn't mind if his mask moved slightly, making it easier to see his chin; he wouldn't mind if you saw him putting it back on—as long as you didn't see his face. He grew more careless around you, which made you do the same.

A few months ago, you would've never guessed this would be your living situation now: staying in a gigantic house with an antisocial grown man wearing a mask. It would've gotten you into a gigantic panic attack if this had been told to you back then, yet somehow, you almost found yourself comfortable with the situation. You didn't feel alone; it didn't feel like anyone was spying on you, and you felt safe. As long as you cared for Brahms, he'd protect you.

This particular day had been casual for the most part; everything that happened happened every day ever since Brahms showed himself. Malcolm did bring you groceries today, which you decided to clean up in the evening.

''Brahms, could you help me by putting the fruit in the refrigerator? You know which drawer.'' You asked as you put all the boxed foods in the cupboard. He silently nodded as he stood up from his chair and did as asked.

''You're tired,'' he stated after another minute of silence, making you smile because of his correct observation. ''I know, I haven't slept that well the last couple of days; I'm not sure why.'' You did know why, and Brahms probably knew that you kept the truth away from him. This week was the exact week you were attacked three years ago; you didn't even need to check the date to know. Your body had created this biological clock around this week, making life miserable for you to remind you of what had happened all those years ago.

He didn't make a fuss about your answer; he simply hummed to let you know he had heard you.

Brahms's POV:

It was clear Y/N had been lying about not knowing why she couldn't sleep. Even though she might be oblivious and naive when it comes to certain things, she wasn't stupid when it came to herself. She knew herself well enough to have already figured out the reason. I didn't bother her, though; she'd tell me herself one day, and if not, she'd tell Gregory, and I'd know either way.

As the days passed, her tiredness and dissociated state seemed to become worse until they hit a breaking point, which seemed to be today. She hardly wanted to give me a goodnight kiss, but she gave it to me either way. I somehow wondered if she was even aware she gave me a goodnight kiss; it was as if she wasn't mentally here at all.

I preferred to sleep in my own bed behind the walls, still. Not only because I was used to sleeping there for a long time but also because I could hear every single sound that was present in the house. 

Everything came to a head when I woke up around two in the morning to some soft sniffles and heavy, quick, nervous breathing. I couldn't help but take a look and see what exactly was going on.

Y/N lay in her bed in a little ball, holding Gregory like it was the only thing keeping her alive. She might've not been loud, but it was clear she held a tonne of emotions in to prevent me from waking up and bothering me. Even in a panic attack, the last thing she thought about was herself.

I didn't do anything at first to observe what was happening and if it'd escalate further. Nothing much happened until she started murmuring to Gregory; she spoke about being alone and scared and how she wished he could hug her back. At some point, she even spoke about being confused with herself, specifically about me.

I felt odd listening to her talk about me to that inanimate object; at least it wasn't anything negative. It somehow sounded desperate yet afraid. As if she wanted me there, yet also as far away as possible. I didn't think she actually wanted me gone; she just wasn't used to wanting someone close to her.

While she was whispering to herself, she started to hyperventilate again; as if she were in a cycle, she couldn't seem to make it stop. It wasn't difficult to conclude that the best solution was for me to get her out of this cycle; that way I could sleep, she could sleep, I could get my attention back again, and possibly get to touch her.

I silently got out of my room and into the hallway; I didn't think Y/N would appreciate me coming out of her closet. I opened the door slightly in hopes of her noticing me immediately, which she didn't do. So I opened the door fully and got into her room, walking towards the corner of her bed.

Her breath slightly hitched when I sat down and made the bed shift, and she tried to wipe away her tears before turning around to look at me. ''What's up, Brahms? Can't you sleep?'' She whispered while acting as if I had woken her up. ''No, you can't.'' ''Oh, Brahms, you don't need to worry about that.''

I didn't answer immediately; instead, I lay down on her bed behind her before speaking. ''You care for me, so I care for you.'' She wasn't completely sure how to react; she simply nodded after a few seconds before turning around and trying to fall asleep.

I was surprised at how she seemed to be fine with all of this; the first day she came inside this house, she didn't even dare to stand closer than 6 feet from any male present. She was still tense; you could see that in her shoulders, but progress takes time, and that was alright with me.

After what seemed like 15 minutes, I decided to move slightly. I even put my hand on her waist to hold her closer to me. I didn't get a reaction at first, which was already a win for me. I felt like I had won the jackpot when she decided to hold my hand tight and I saw her shoulders lose the tension they had previously carried.