𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙚 || 𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒉𝒎𝒔 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒆 × 𝑭!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

012 | Mask

Brahms's POV:

I kissed her. I finally kissed her—the thing I'd been dreaming of ever since she walked inside the house with those cute, little feet of hers. I was glad she kissed me back; it proved to me she needed me as much as I needed her and wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I held her soft, fragile face as I pulled her leg closer to me. I threw us around; that way I could look down on her and hold her closer than was possible before. She softly yelled at the sudden change of position, grabbing my shoulders almost painfully. I moved towards her neck so she could get comfortable again. Placing wet, soft kisses on her neck made me even more needy than I was before.

She tried to hold back the noises I made her let out; she was too embarrassed to accept how sensitive she was. I wanted to hear her beg for me and make all possible sounds for me. I grabbed one of her breasts and kneaded it softly, enjoying the feeling of her nipple hardening with my touch. She held my chin again, making me look at her and making me kiss her again.

I put my leg in between hers, spreading them as I got closer to her and putting my hands under her nightwear. I couldn't help squeezing her hips softly, tracing my hands down, following the curves her body was blessed with.

I began to grind on her softly, finally making her let out all the beautiful moans she tried to keep in as I went to attack her neck again. She slowly moved her hand down to my waist, her fingers barely touching my skin, as if to experiment with what she dared to do. How cute.

''Brahms, Brahms, please stop.'' I suddenly heard my beautiful girl whisper as if she were scared. I stopped in my tracks and looked back at her. She was scared. I wouldn't like touching her if the only thing she did was try to stop me and possibly hurt me. She had been good to me; it was my turn to be good to her.

I moved away from her, sitting next to her. She didn't say anything for a while; she simply looked at the ceiling for what seemed like ages, as if she were in a trance. I took her hand when I noticed she wasn't getting out of whatever she had gotten into, something that made her look up at me.

She tried to say something, but no words came out of her mouth. She looked at my hand, caressing it with her thumb. She moved closer to me after a while with caution, afraid I'd touch her again. I didn't do much, though; I only moved my arm to be around her shoulders so I could keep her close to me and bring her a sense of comfort.

She seemed to take it as she laid her head on my chest, now holding my hand with a bit more confidence. ''I'm sorry.'' She whispered as if she had to cry. ''Don't apologise; you didn't do anything wrong. I told you I wouldn't hurt you; you've been good to me, therefore I'll be good to you.''

She nodded as she softly cried. She didn't need to explain; I knew enough to understand what was going on. ''You're safe with me; no one will come near you; no one who hurts you will ever be able to touch a hair on your head.''

''Y/N, would you feel better if you knew what I looked like?'' I asked her in hopes of making her stop crying. Even though the tears on her face looked incredibly cute on her, the fact that they came there out of fear and because of the thoughts of others made them ugly.

She looked up at me through her wet eyelashes and nodded slowly, telling me she only wanted to see me if that was what I wanted and that it didn't matter to her. So I took off my porcelain mask—the thing that had covered my face for twenty years.

I didn't know if she spoke the truth when she said I'd be perfect for her no matter what. I didn't know if it would feel good to not cover my face after all that time. It was all I was used to and all I knew.

I looked down at her after I put the porcelain on my bedside table, waiting for her response. She cupped my cheek as she caressed it, observing the face I had hidden from her all those months.

She smiled at me, slowly coming closer to me and softly pecking me on the lips. ''You're handsome, Brahms. Don't ever hide your face from me ever again if that's what you were afraid about; you're beautiful.''

''No, Y/N, you are. You're beautiful; you're perfect—perfect for me, to me. I don't care that you're flawed, just like I am. I'll protect you, I'll make you feel safe, and I'll be patient with you like you were patient with me. I'll be good to you as you are good to me.''

''Promise?''

''I promise.''