His Many Masks *The Boy fan fiction*

Chapter Twenty Two

Learn to trust, then love will follow
                                                                     - Anonymous

The following days after Brahms and I had told each other our dark secret, our relationship grew for the better. I found myself falling asleep next to him on the couch, being carried up to bed, and begging him to stay with me. Finding someone who went through child trauma as I did was refreshing and even though it was dysfunctional, it comforted me in the least.

The lazy days and Brahms kept me content. I felt like me again when I was around him.

"You know, you've smiled a lot more lately," Brahms quirked as we walked together out in the garden.

I smirked, "have I?"

Brahms smiled genuinely, "what changed?"

I thought for a moment, how was I to put this all in words. Brahms I think I'm falling for you and I know it's dangerous and wrong but I can't fight it anymore, or we've both murdered someone and now we owe each other our complete loyalty and trust and I'm happy I finally have someone like me.

Brahms' long fingers slowly dragged up my arm, I leaned into this touch, "I'm just happy I'm not alone anymore," I said.

Brahms cupped my cheek, his hand rough but warm, "me too."

We walked back, hand in hand to the house. I never knew how wonderful another person could make me feel; I was becoming addicted.

Once inside, Brahms put the kettle on and warmed up some tea, "what would you like to do today?" Brahms asked.

I shrugged, "other than walk and read books, I've got nothing."

Brahms shot me a sly smile, "maybe I could interest you in some other things."

My heart rate picked up, "like what?"

Brahms turned around and took the screaming kettle off of the stove, his curls bouncing as he moved swiftly around the kitchen. My fingers twitched in anticipation. What did he have in mind?

Brahms prepared our tea, and slid over the tray to the middle of the island I was sitting at. I thanked him and began sipping the hot liquid.

"Have you ever played the piano?" He asked me after a few minutes of silence.

I nodded, "not as much as I played the violin though."

Brahms furrowed his brow, "violin? You could play the violin?"

I nodded once more, "yeah, I was fairly good at it too. Unfortunately I had to quit due to my father losing his job and such." It still pained me to mention my parents and my past life, but Brahms was someone who didn't make it as hard to talk about.

Brahms clicked his tongue, "I have a violin upstairs if you'd like to try, I've never met someone who could actually play." I remembered seeing the violin in his old room. I remembered strumming the strings and remembering how I used to play. The thought alone pained me.

I thought for a moment, my hands itched to play the violin, but I was terrified it'd being back too many memories.

"I understand if you don't want to," Brahms added.

I smiled, "I'll try it out," Brahms made me want to do things that I never even thought about.

He made no haste retrieving the violin. Once he brought it to me, he immediately sat down beside me, our knees touching. My skin burned where we touched, my body still acted foreign whenever we were intimate.