His Many Masks *The Boy fan fiction*

Chapter Eighteen

Lies will come back
- Anonymous

Brahms was right, we couldn't keep going back and forth. We had decided to stay professional.

I glared at myself in the mirror. I had taken more notice to my appearance since my last conversation with Brahms even though we were no longer "involved".

Aside from my naturally wavy chestnut hair, I didn't have many inherent attractive features.

My eyes were arguably small and "beady", my nose was pointed, my jawline was soft, and my complexion was blotchy.

I ran a finger across my cheek. I hated how I looked.

Turned around, and walked out of the bathroom. Brahms was downstairs in the library reading a small book. I sat beside him on the sofa and waited for him to look up.

"Yes?" He asked, keeping his eyes glued to the pages.

I bit my lip, for some reason it was so difficult to talk to Brahms when I wanted to, I felt embarrassed.

Brahms closed his book and adverted his eyes to mine, "what's wrong?"

I had nothing to say, my mind was blank.

"Kátalin?"

I looked back at him, "do you think I'm.."

"Go on," he said.

"Ugly?" I flinched at his response, but I needed to know.

Brahms put his book on the coffee table and turned completely towards me. "Where did you get that from?" He asked.

I shrugged, "just saw myself in the mirror and thought I looked a little rough."

Brahms was quiet for a moment, "Kátalin you are many things but ugly isn't one of them."

I smiled, "are you sure?"

Brahms stared in my eyes, "with every fiber of my being."

I looked down, my cheeks beginning to redden at his compliment.

"Any who, I have some things I have to do, so help yourself to the library," Brahms said standing up.

"Are you leaving?" I asked, realizing that since I'd been here he hadn't left once.

"No, just working on something in the house," he finished.

I sat back, he really hadn't left the inside of the house at all except to save me from those wolves. I found it odd for sure but decided against saying anything.

Brahms disappeared out into the hallway. I sighed and picked up the book he had been reading, "the things we cannot say" I ran my finger across the spine of the book, why would Brahms be reading something like this?

I set the book down and decided to get something to eat in the kitchen boredom did things to me.

Before I could decide on what I wanted to eat, a loud banging sound erupted in the foyer. I jumped at the sudden noise and quickly ran to figure out what had caused it.

Someone was knocking on the door.

I waited a moment for Brahms to come out from whoever he was and answer it since it was his house, but after the tenth knock I figured it was urgent and decided to answer it myself.

I quickly unlocked the door, and swung it wide open.

A policeman was standing on the front porch.