Five Senses (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Chapter Five: Brahms

My mouth is dry..

But he's so close to me, I can practically taste his foul stench..

He's too close..

I wanted to grinned victoriously when he followed me up the stairs to one of the bathrooms I had walked by earlier, but now was not an appropriate time.

After a few moments of struggling with my memory, we had reached one of the bathrooms.

"Sit." I stated firmly and he complied and sat on top of the toilet seat.

Rummaging around the drawers and cabinets, I found a small pile of rags and grabbed one before soaking it in warm water under the sink.

Turning around to face him, I knelt down and looked at the screwdriver.

He must have been stabbed through his clothes but we're going to have to take it out.

"Can you take off your shirt?" I asked before he nodded and shrugged off his cardigan.

He lifted his arms to reach the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it over him but the screwdriver made a small hole through the fabric and moved when it got caught in the process.

The man winced and let out a small whimper in pain as he pleaded me with his eyes as he let go of his shirt.

My heart ached when I saw his pained expression but it had to be done.

"We still need to get your shirt off so we can get the screwdriver out." my brain racked at every option before settling on one, "My scissors. They're in my bag. We co-"

Another realization dawned upon me, "Where is my bag? I can grab my scissors that are in there."

The man's expression immediately darkened and a deep raspier voice could be heard from him, "No."

Irritated, I tried to reason with him, "Then how do you suppose we're to take that out without having you bleed to death? I could cut a hole around the screwdriver so you can take your shirt off and let me clean the blood."

Stubbornly, he glared and shook his head, repeating, "No."

"Why not?"

"You could hurt me." his childish voice fought back.

My eyes widened and snapped up to meet his once I heard his answer because he was right.

I'd have to opportunity to hurt him or just leave if I wanted while he sits here in pain and possibly dying.

Is that what I really wanted?

To leave this man for dead?

I could run away from this alive.

He must have noticed the conflicting emotions running across my face because I saw his eyes become glossy and sad as he waited for me to respond.

Remembering all I had been through before and what plans I had for the future, I had decided my fate.

"I won't hurt you." I reassured him softly, placing the damp rag on my legs and holding his hands in his lap, "I want to help you but you need to trust me, okay?"

The man held his breath as he watched me, trying to detect any hints of lying that I may have tried to pull on him but he found none.

A spark of hope emerged in his eyes of sadness as he slowly nodded.

"Good," I gently smiled at him then overcome with curiosity, I asked him another question, "What's your name?"

His eyes beamed at the question and suddenly, he didn't seem so threatening anymore as he answered in his child-like voice, "Brahms. Brahms Heelshire."