All Mine

21

The first thing you noticed was that Brahms had left you. Not completely obviously, but he wasn't in the room anymore. Part of you wondered where he'd gone but you needed a shower first. After briefly sniffing your armpits, you shrank back in horror. A shower was definitely necessary.

———

You grabbed your towel and ran off to the bathroom, hoping Brahms hadn't noticed you were up.
You slammed the bathroom door and leaned against it, trying to catch your breath from sprinting across the house.

A thump was heard on the other side of the door, making you jump and scream in shock. A little boy's giggle was heard shortly after, so you knew Brahms was playing his games again.

Locking the door, you sighed and started to run the shower. You put your towel down on the marble sink and your clothes on the wooden clothing rack.

Slowly, you started to undress, all your bones aching after the torture they'd been through after you having to run from Brahms earlier.

As soon as you stepped into the shower, the tears came. Brahms had put you through so much pain over the past months, first taunting you with that fucking doll and now.. he was chasing you around the house.

You sobbed loudly, not caring if Brahms heard you. You wanted him to feel all the pain he'd put you through, all the anguish you feel. How could he ever make any of this better?

———

Brahms had, in fact, heard your episode in the shower and was saddened when you didn't even look for him or call out his name once again.

Had he done something wrong? Had Brahms been a bad boy?

He didn't know, but he didn't think he'd been that bad. Sure, Malcolm was dead and Cole too, but he thought you wanted that. He thought you wanted them dead.

Brahms only did what you told him to do.

———

Tidying yourself up had proven to be a more difficult task than you previously thought. First, you didn't have enough soap to wash yourself with, then you didn't have any clean underwear and now you couldn't see any good in the fridge. Now Malcolm was gone, who would deliver the food?

"Brahms!" You called him. "Bra-"

"Yes?"

A chill ran down your spine from the high voice. You spun round and there he was, standing tall  in the kitchen doorway as if nothing was wrong with the world.

"T-there's no food in the fridge, so I was going to go out to get some," You stuttered, still surprised Brahms had arrived so quickly. Or maybe he'd been there for ages. You would never know unless you asked. "And how the Hell did you get here so quickly?"

Brahms shrugged.

Helpful.

"I'm going to grab my coat and be back in an hour, depending on where the shops are here," You told Brahms, moving towards the doorway where he still stood.

You tried to move past him, but Brahms stood his ground. "Move, Brahms, I need to get by."

He shook his head firmly and brought out a list from his back pocket.

The rules.

For God's sake! You'd forgotten about those and one of them prevented you from leaving the house.

"Then how am I supposed to get food if I don't go out?" Your argued with him. To be perfectly honest, there was no point in arguing for two reasons: Brahms wasn't going to move any time soon and the rules were his way of tying you to him and the house. You weren't escaping from Brahms' sight any time soon. He couldn't risk letting you go after everything that had happened.

Brahms couldn't lose you. Not now.

Not ever.