The Bride of Brahms

Bonus Chapter: Brahms POV (Part 2)

{Author's Note: Happy Halloween readers! Enjoy the extra chapter :)}

"All he knows; If he can't relieve it, it grows" -The Bird and The Worm, The Used

She's mine now.

I felt it when she looked in my eyes. Something happened between us, and it wasn't just our bodies joining tonight. There was a tinge of disappointment as I watched her eyes flutter close, breaking the wonderful connection between us but I could hardly blame her after what we did. She was perfect in every way, exceeding my expectations once again.

"You belong to me now, Cora." I told her, stroking her beautiful face but she did not respond. I watched her peaceful face a few moments more before getting up and grabbing a towel from the bathroom, gently cleaning the mess we made between her legs, before tucking her into bed. Although I wanted more, I had to repress my desires as I handled her sweet body. She didn't stir even once with all that movement, which confirmed I was right in holding back and letting her rest. Besides, there would always be next time...

Carefully, I laid myself next to her and watched as she slept. I marveled at how perfect she was – no, is. I witnessed her cute little nose twitch slightly as she succumbed to her dreams, and envied the dreams she might have escaped to, bitterly wishing I could be there too.

"What do you dream of goddess?" I asked softly, taking a lock of her fiery hair in my hand and stroking it tenderly with my thumb. It felt so soft. "Do you dream of me?" I asked again, hopeful this time. I knew she wouldn't answer me, but watching her eyebrows scrunch together briefly before relaxing again, I had a funny thought that maybe she was answering me in her own way. I laughed softly, continuing to stroke her soft hair, my heart swelling at the thought of taking time to unlock my goddess's secret language.

She does not want you. She's using you to survive.

I bolted upright, breathing heavily now. It's here...

"No no no. That's not true..." I mumbled, holding my head and rocking back and forth. The Voice had come back, slithering its way in when I least expected to poison my consciousness.

Stupid, Ugly Boy. Look around. She has packed her things...

I looked around the room for the first time and realized The Voice was right. Her things had vanished from the tops of the dresser and vanity, and the blue suitcase she came with made its appearance from under the bed. My stomach dropped in dread.

"No..." I claimed weakly

She's leaving you, boy.

"No" I said firmer this time. Before I knew it her suitcase was open, and in a panicked fury I scrambled to shove her clothes back into the drawers. "She's not leaving, not now..."

She's going to leave you. She's going to leave you alone again.

Tears of rage blurred my vision as The Voice taunted me, its high-pitch ringing in my ears. I became careless in my desperation, throwing random clothing into drawers. "No, no, no..." I mumbled, combating The Voice, as I dragged out that silly blue dress Cora had and lugged it back to the closet.

We can make her stay, forever, if we kill her...

"Nooo..." I moaned out, feeling my face contort to hold back the tears of rage and desperation as I made my way back to the suitcase. But who was I really mad at – The Voice, or Cora, for trying to leave?

Do it. KILL THAT UNGRATEFUL SLUT.

"NO!" I roared out, "SHUT UP!"

The voice didn't respond, and I broke into a cold sweat, panting. I remembered Cora was on the bed and my eyes snapped toward her, fearful that she had woken up. Fortunately, she continued to sleep, her chest falling and rising in a rhythm undisturbed by my insanity. The relief flushed through me and vanished in an instant, replaced with a sinking, harrowing guilt.

I sank to my knees and cried softly into my hands. I was not worthy of the goddess that let me have her in intimate ways, but I couldn't let her leave. It made me feel weak and pathetic. I didn't know if I would hurt her but I was too much a coward to make her leave, even if it was to protect her.

Something stirred within me; a fire of determination of some sort. I wouldn't force her to stay, but I would certainly make her stay – but on my terms.

Putting on my clothes, I made my way back into the walls and took the passages that lead to my parents' room. Cracking open the wardrobe doors, I stepped into the place that held many dark feelings for me, but I was determined not to let them win.

Walking past the large mahogany bed, I made my way to the jewelry box that sat atop the dresser. It was a bit dusty and hadn't been touched since Mum and Dad left, but I was able to break the lock and locate my prize; one of Mum's rings, a gold band with a single, ovular diamond perched on top. I pocketed the ring, and caught a glance of the long, white tulle curtains that cascaded in front of the window next to the bed, giving me another idea.

Every bride needs a white dress, I thought to myself.

I tugged down the curtains, shredding them a little but it didn't matter; I would be reshaping them into something new. Something worthy of my goddess – my future wife.

I was giddy with anticipation of enacting my plan; I wasn't going to force her to stay, no. I was going to make her want to stay by having her marry me. She would never leave if she didn't have a reason to, right? The Voice and my parents no longer control me, I thought as I brought the rags back to my workshop. I'll make Cora stay on my own terms. Not the terms of The Voice.

Not even Mummy and Daddy's terms.

I thought back to the letter they sent, the one I got the day Cora left the first time with Malcolm. She barely noticed it and I took advantage of that, hiding it away to read alone. I wasn't surprised of its contents – just like them to abandon me all together.

But that didn't mean Cora had to know right away...

I immediately sat the material down at my sewing machine, too fervent to get any rest. I grabbed some thread and needs from the workbench, wincing as I glimpsed my other project. 

Shuddering, I pushed it aside, its steely exterior chilling my fingertips. I almost regretted making something so heinous...

Almost...

Hopefully, Cora would make the right choice – and we wouldn't have to be forced to use that on her. Either way, my little apricot would not be leaving here soon...

After all, if The Voice ends up being right, we'll have no choice but to do what it says, won't we?

Don't worry. We'll make sure she never ever leaves you again...

I shuddered, shaking off the remnants of The Voice and set to work on the dress for Cora. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, I thought to myself.