Brahms x Reader - After the killing

Chapter 6 - Tea with Brahms

    "I started reading one of the books you gave me." You say.
Brahms looks up from the cup and you see surprise in his eyes. It seems like he wants to say something, but doesn't. Maybe he's uncomfortable to speak without the doll, ever since he scared you so badly? You see him swallow.
"Which?" he whimpers quietly from underneath the mask.
You feel relieved to hear him talk and can't help but smile.
"Jane Eyre. I'm halfway through. I'm glad you chose it for me." You tell him.
He nods and looks down in his cup. "I thought you'd like it." He says, his voice cracking as it goes a little deeper.
"I couldn't stop reading. I even fell asleep in the middle of it." You say. You hear a little muffled sniff behind the mask as if Brahms smiled. You notice his eyelashes while he looks down.
"You have a lot of books up here." You continue. You haven't forgotten about either the creepy doll on the bed, or how easily he killed Cole but you don't intend to bring that up. Not yet, at least.
He nods again and fiddles with the cup. He says and hesitates for a moment.
"I don't have much else."
You can't imagine what it must be like to live a life this isolated and lonely.
He sits silently for another while. "Are you still scared of me?" He then says quietly.
At first, you don't know what to say. There are so many things not right here. In fact, you should be scared. But for some reason, you're not. Confused and nervous maybe, yes, but not scared. You feel wary yet intrigued. There's something about him that makes you want to get to know him. Even if you shouldn't. He came to your help when you asked him for it. He protected you from Cole. You didn't really want to admit it to yourself until now, but you feel relieved that Cole is actually dead. Gone forever. And the things Brahms did while you still thought he was a doll, like hiding your shoes, were odd - yes, but harmless.
"No. I don't think so." You tell him. "Do you understand why I was?"
He nods slightly. "I thought... you'd leave me." he says with his childlike voice. You realize he might use that when he gets nervous. He looks up at you, almost with a fear in his eyes.
"I won't leave." You assure him. "We... need to look after each other."
You think about the letter from Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire. That they're never coming back. Brahms hangs his head and nods.
"Will you let me in the house?" he asks. At first you don't understand, since you both are already in the house. But you realize he probably means in the real house, not hidden away in the passages and this room. You wonder if his parents made him hide or if it was his own choice. Maybe a little bit of both. Like Mr. Heelshire said, little by little and then all at once.
"Of course. It's your home." You tell him and pause before you pick up the courage to ask. "Brahms, did... your parents not want you in the house?"
He swallows. "I was a bad boy." He says shakily. "I had to hide."
You immediately think of Emily Cribbs. The little girl that went missing and was later found dead by the police. Presumably killed by Brahms. You feel torn between really wanting to know, and absolutely not wanting to know the truth. You have a feeling you'll find out at some point sooner or later, if you have patience. 
"But you'll be good now. Won't you?" you ask hesitantly and he nods heavily to convince you. Just like a child. You smile and take a sip of the lavender tea that has cooled off a little bit. Brahms lifts his cup but hesitates and puts it down again, not sure what to do. "Oh, I'll close my eyes if you want...?" you say quickly to help him out in his discomfort.

"No, I'll turn around." He says apologetically. He turns around on the stool with his back against you, and takes a hold of the bottom of his mask. "You won't look, will you?" he asks anxiously.