The Boy Movie Brahms Heelshire x reader FanFic

Black Heart - Part 61

That flight home to the States was the longest ever, and the most miserable.    You cried most of the time, slept fitfully, mourned and yearned and regretted.     The moment you stepped off the plane, she saw it.

"Sis?   You're pregnant!"

"Do I look that awful?"

"Quite the opposite.  You're glowing.  Rosy cheeks. Glittery eyes.  Been throwing up?"

You nodded, then burst into tears.   

"Is it all over?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

You told her an abridged version of the truth, and she hugged you and you cried all the way home in the taxi.   You rang Brahms relentlessly, day after day after day,  but he never answered.  He never did do phone calls.  At least not external ones.  Every night was spent visualising the Heelshire mansion,  mentally roaming every room and corridor in search of him, just to touch his energy, his psyche, his soul.   But he remained unreachable to you.   If Brahms didn't want a thing, his rejection of it was utter.  And so the weeks turned into months and when the pains began in your belly, your heart broke all over again.   Even as you wailed in the delivery room, it was his name your soul howled out for.   

Now, home is your sister's house.  Plenty of room.  You can stay forever.  Everyone declares your offspring are a comfort and aren't you blessed.  Your life is a living death.

Under the strain you grow thin and wan.   The years pass.   You stoically continue to control all that needs to be organised for the hidden man in his fortress of solitude.  This is all you can do for him now, and like a remote parent with a lost child, your love reaches out over the ether and you hope against hope he can feel it.  Calls to the domestics who clean and cook and shop for Brahms tell you he remains invisible yet present.   They never see him but the food gets eaten, and the rat traps are emptied as regular as clockwork.

In your small American town, suitors come and go but you reject them all.   You have no need to work, bringing up kids is a full time job, you discover.    You get invited to parties where you stand surrounded by people, smiling mechanically, your heart thousands of miles away lying beneath star shaped string lights.

"Sis?  Why don't you go back?"

"I can't."

"This Brahms of yours?  You never said why it all finished so suddenly.  I mean, what kind of heartless man is he that he rejects his own flesh and blood?"

"It's complicated, and I don't want to talk about it."

"Don't tell me you never told him you were pregnant!"

"Don't preach to me, Sis."

"Grieving like this isn't healthy, Y/N!   It's been nearly five years now.   I know you had a shit time with Joel.  But you should be over Brahms by now.  What kind of a man holds this kind of power over you?"

You stare into the middle distance and shake your head.   

"Well, I have a date tomorrow and  need a favour.  His name is Michael and he's got  a hot friend..."

You close your eyes and sigh.   "Don't, please."

"You can't mope about for the rest of your life.  You have money now.  You're young, beautiful.  A real catch!  I'm not going to let you rot away like an old spinster."

"I don't want to be anyone's hook and bait!"

"That's not what I meant."

"I know you're just trying to be kind. But I really can't."