Inside the wall - Brahms Heelshire x male oc

9

It was a gray, foggy morning. Vincent is still half-asleep, crawling out of bed to the hallway and trips over something. He looks down and sees shoes.

The same shoes he lost on his first day. Underneath the shoes are a small stack of papers. Vincent lifts them up, it's Brahms' rules.

'GOOD NIGHT KISS EVERY NIGHT' has been circled in red crayon. Vincent smiles softly, shaking his head, looking at the next page -- the schedule, starting with Tuesday. Today.

Vincent walks to Brahms' room and peeks inside.

Brahms lay peacefully in a perfectly made bed, just like he was yesterday. Brahms is facing up, one hand by his side, one hand on his chest, just like a real little boy might sleep.

Vincent walks into Brahms' room, walking towards the drawer and takes Brahms' clothes. He sits down on the bed. "It's time to wake up, Brahms." He said, pulling the covers off of him and pulling him up into his arms very gently and carefully. Then, he starts pulling off Brahms pajamas and starts dressing him up. After he finished, he walked towards the kitchen with Brahms in his arms.

Vincent starts making breakfast for both Brahms and himself and places the breakfast in front of Brahms and himself after he finishes making the food. He sat down in front of Brahms and starts eating his food.

After he finished eating, he placed the food inside a tupperware and started doing the normal routine for Brahms.

At night, Vincent tucks Brahms into his bed. He turns off his light and kisses Brahms on the cheek, leaning away to look at Brahms. "Goodnight, Brahms. I love you. Sweet dreams." He said, standing up and leaving Brahms' room, softly closing the door behind him.

Vincent turns to walk to his room and stops. Something suddenly occurring to him. He reverses his course and walks to Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire's room.

Vincent heads directly to the bedside table, opens the drawer and takes out the envelope. He sits down on the bed, waits a moment, then pulls out the contents.

'LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT' written at the top. Lower on the page, Vincent finds what he was looking for. The typed words 'conservator of the Heelshire estate and fortunes' followed by a name that has been scratched out and a blank underlined portion that's been filled in with Mrs. Heelshire's perfect handwriting with two words: Vincent Livingstone.

He squints at the scratched name to try and see if he can read it, eyes widening at the familiar name.

Gertrude Evans.

𓉞

Vincent stands in the doorway, looking at Brahms, sitting under the covers just as he left him.

He looks down at the necklace in his hand. Then slips it in his pocket and lifts Brahms up. "It's time to wake up, Brahms." He said, smiling softly.

𓉞

Brahms and Vincent sit side by side on the floor in the living room. A stack of records in front of them. Vincent flips through them, wondering which one he is going to play today.

Vincent huffed out a breath, deciding to just pick one and started playing it, used to the loud noise now that he has been staying here.

"Not scared anymore?"

Vincent closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself down before turning to look at Malcolm who is standing just inside the room.

Malcolm smiles when Vincent looks at him. "Sorry. You always jump, or get shocked when the song starts playing."

"I'm used to it." Vincent said, sitting back down next to Brahms, making himself comfortable.

Malcolm holds up some mail -- a few bills, the letter to Brahms and from the orphanage.

A flash of worry passes Vincent's face at the familiar wax seals. "Anything for me?" He asked anyway, looking at Malcolm.

"Yeah." Malcolm said, giving Vincent the mail of the orphanage.

Vincent instantly ripped it open, taking out the letter and started reading it. His eyes widened at the letter, a warm feeling starting to make itself known inside his chest.

"What is it?" Malcolm questioned, dropping the rest of the mail in the mail vase.

"Nothing." Vincent said, going back to the straight face and looks up at Malcolm who raised his eyebrows at him but shrugs.

𓉞

Brahms is positioned carefully at the table. A sandwich and a glass of milk sit untouched in front of him.

Malcolm gives the whole set-up a scrutinizing look before he puts away a can of beans. Vincent packs the fridge with vegetables.

"I see you and Brahms are closer than ever." Malcolm said.

Vincent looks up from the fridge and smiles. "Yeah." He said, going back to his work.

Malcolm watches him for a beat, aware that something strange is going on, but not quite sure what it is. "I think I might take you up on that night-on-the-town offer. Dinner. Drinks. Dancing. I'll have you know I'm a legend in these parts for my dance moves. Not because they're good, mind you -- but a legend's a legend."

"I shouldn't." Vincent said, wondering if the man will finally take the no.

"I'm afraid I can't take no for an answer." Malcolm said, not seeing Vincent rolling his eyes at that. "If I let you return to the UK without ever showing you more than this dreary mansion I won't be able to forgive myself."

"I really shouldn't leave, Brahms..." Vincent said.

"Is that all it is then? Let's ask him, yeah? I'm sure he won't mind." Malcolm said, walking over to Brahms. "Brahms, you, old sod, would you mind terribly if I take the lovely Mr. Livingstone out for a night on the town?"

"Why of course not." Malcolm said, starting to act like it was Brahms talking. "I've been hoping he'd get out of the house. I need a little privacy. Think I'll watch telly. Take a nice bubble bath. Have a little Brahms' time."

Vincent watches -- not amused. His hands are clenched into fists.

Malcolm, not oblivious, continues his routine. Now he switches to a Senor Wences impression. "Is alright? S'alright." He holds up Brahms' hand and gives himself a high five.

Vincent can't take anymore. "Stop!" He exclaimed, a little too loud for his liking but he doesn't care.

Malcolm freezes, then lets out an uncomfortable laugh. "I was just joking--" He gives Brahms a couple of knocks on the head, as if to emphasize he's just porcelain.

Vincent rushes over, re-adjusts him, putting his hands back where they were. "Don't touch him."

"I'm sorry... I..." He's not sorry, he just doesn't have any words because Vincent got angry.