Inside the wall - Brahms Heelshire x male oc

6

Another gray English day. Heavy clouds stacked along the horizon. The next storm is on its way.

Vincent walks down the long gravel drive-way to the mailbox, flips it open and peers inside. Empty. He flips it closed and starts the long trudge back to the cottage when a truck turns down the driveway and pulls up alongside him.

Malcolm rolls down the window, smiling. "Need a lift?"

Vincent holds back a sigh and tries his best to smile at the man, it must've worked because Malcolm's smile got wider. "Sure."

𓉞

Vincent puts the groceries away, mostly canned goods.

Malcolm is just around the corner, pulling the tupperware containers out of the freezer and putting them into a trash bag.

Vincent looks behind him at Brahms, who is sitting on the chair facing them. He turns back and stuff another can of food in the pantry. "I was wondering about that freezer."

"Mrs. Heelshire's orders. Everything gets thrown out every two weeks." Malcolm said, seemingly happy that Vincent is talking to him.

"So all that food just goes to waste?" Vincent questioned.

Malcolm holds up an empty tupperware container. "Not all of it. Mr. Heelshire eats a few of them. He's always been the less strict one about all of this."

Vincent nods, glancing behind him at Brahms to make sure he didn't fall off the chair.

"How are the two of you getting along?" Malcolm asked, noticing Vincent glancing back at Brahms every few seconds.

Vincent glanced away from Brahms, holding up a jar of peanut butter and a jar of jelly before shoving them into the cupboard. "Like peanut butter and jelly." He said, letting a beat pass by them. "So I have to ask--"

Malcolm comes around the corner with his garbage bag of tupperware. "Yes, I am single. Believe it or not."

Vincent is not amused, and he hopes it shows on his face.

"What's up with the doll?" Malcolm asked, not faltering at all.

"Yes." Vincent said.

"Not the happiest story, I'm afraid." Malcolm said, and Vincent told him to go ahead. "They had a real son once. A real Brahms. He died as a child. They moved here not long after and built this house. They never went out much -- maybe because of the looks they got when they went into town with this doll. And the last few years -- I'm not sure they left the house at all. It's all harmless, though, this little world they've made. A way to cope. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to lose a child."

"How long ago did Brahms die?" Vincent asked.

"He'd be older than me now, I suppose. 30 or so years ago?" Malcolm said.

"They've lived like this for 30 years?" Vincent questioned, looking at Brahms.

Malcolm nods. "And they've been looking for a nanny for the last seven. You must be a special man, Vince Livingstone."

"Don't call me that." Vincent quickly said.

Malcolm didn't flatter again, taking his chance. "You're probably going mad in this house, yeah?" Vincent shakes his head, but Malcolm still doesn't stop. "It might be good to get out. I could take you to town, if you'd like. Show you the world-famous Norwich nightlife."

"No, thanks. I'm here to take care of Brahms, not go on a thing." Vincent said, sighing.

"Well, this is not a thing. I can assure you of that. This is a professional courtesy seeing as we're employed by the same people. It's a duty is what it is. I'll take no pleasure in it whatsoever, I promise." Malcolm said.

Vincent doesn't answer, turning his head to the wall when he hears another creak.

"Yeah?" Malcolm asked, looking at Vincent with a smile.

"N--"

"I'll see you tonight!" Malcolm said, cutting Vincent's words off and leaving before he could say more.

Vincent rolled his eyes at the man. Arlo was right, Malcolm couldn't take a 'no'.

𓉞

"Can I be honest with you, Brahms?" Vincent asked, looking through his drawer for clothes for Malcolm's date. Whatever he is calling it.

Vincent turns around, looking at Brahms who is sitting on his bed, facing him. "I'm not interested in Malcolm." He said, sighing, leaning back against the drawer.

"I was saying 'no' to him and he cut me off before I could finish it." Vincent said, pushing himself off of the drawer and walking towards Brahms. He sits down next to Brahms, moving to lay down on his side with his head facing Brahms' porcelain face.

"I mean, you were there." Vincent said, smiling up at Brahms. "I wonder whose side you will be on if you were real, Brahms." He said, sighing again, closing his eyes.

He opens his eyes, looking up at Brahms. "I am interested in dating." He said. "Just not with someone who can't take a no." He said. "Well, maybe I just haven't found the one yet." He said, chuckling softly. "That's what my little brother always said." He said, looking up at Brahms. "He was six when he was taken away from me, and I was twenty-one. He's eleven now." He said, smiling softly. "I think he would like you if he's here."

Vincent sighs, turning onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. "Thank you for listening to me, Brahms." He said, letting out a small groan as he sat up, looking at Brahms. "I'm gonna go shower, you wait here, alright?" He said, leaning forward and kissing Brahms on his cheek.

He stood up and walked towards his drawer, taking whatever clothes he would be wearing and walked towards the bathroom. He hangs the clothes on the towel rod beside the mirror, then slips off his cardigan and shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Finally, he takes his pants and underwear, leaving it on the floor as well.

He takes off the green gem necklace, setting it on the sink, the chain hanging off the side.

𓉞

Vincent's body is just barely visible as a silhouette through the shower curtain. Steam has covered the mirror and filled the bathroom.

Vincent starts humming beautifully to himself as an unseen presence pulls his clothes down from the towel rod. Silently tugging the green gem necklace down from the sink.

The unseen presence stares at Vincent for a few seconds before leaving, satisfied that the nanny is not interested in Malcolm.