The Broken Doll (Brahms x Reader)

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

With a sponge, you scrub away the bits and pieces of the leftover dried fish stuck to your plate. You were in the midst of washing the last of the dishes when Brahms entered the kitchen. He was carrying his plate, completely clean besides a few fish bones. Brahms empties the remnants into the trash and then joins you over by the sink. He asks about the joke you made earlier. You smile to yourself as you explained the joke to him.

Brahms grabs a sponge, " So that's what that was?" He asks, referring to your attempt at an English accent.

" Was it that bad?" You ask, scooting over to make room for him. You take a bottle of dish soap and squeeze a quarter-sized amount onto his sponge.

Brahms side-eye's you then evades the question, " This show...," he says, " It sounds interesting. Tell me more."

" It's not as enjoyable if I just tell you about it," you reply, " It's too bad there's no internet or cable around here."

Brahms stops for a moment, " That's not true. There is—"

" —Yeah but we have to walk a mile outside to get a signal," You cut him off.

Brahms shakes his head, " There's a wifi router in the basement. I had it turned off," he says nonchalantly.

You were about to ask why but, you already understood. Brahms didn't trust you. If he did, he would've had it turned on considering he knows how much you needed it. Hasn't things changed since you've gotten to know each other more?

" Could you maybe turn it back on?" you ask.

Brahms doesn't respond and continues scrubbing at his plate. Your shoulders drop as you let out a quiet sigh. You place your dishes on the drying rack, " It's not like I haven't used my phone already," you try to reason, " I mean, I used it just yesterday to send an email to my professor when I could have called the police."

Brahms remains silent. All that's heard is the clanking of silverware and the running water of the faucet. As you were about to leave, you hear the water abruptly stop. You look behind and see Brahms drying his hands with a rag. He tosses it aside and jerks his head towards the hallway to the left. Brahms makes his way over and you follow shortly after. You both proceed down the unfamiliar hallway that you've never been through before. All that's there was a single door. When he opens it, you head down the steep set of stairs. You enter what looks like a wine cellar. There were cabinets full of wine and other alcoholic beverages. You could tell everything was expensive because you couldn't pronounce the names of any of them.

You walk over towards the various displays of red & white wine, taking one out at random, " Egon Muller Sch...Scharz..."

" —Egon Muller Scharzhofberger Riesling Trockenbeerenauslese," Brahms says effortlessly.

" Couldn't have said it better myself," You reply.

" All the way from the Mosel region of Germany," he informs you, " It's one of the most expensive white wines in the world."

" Of course it is, " you say, " How much?" you ask curiously.

" Around £9,000."

It takes you some time to convert pounds to U.S. dollars in your head. You weren't always the best at math. When you calculate that £9,000 is roughly $13,000 a bottle, your jaw drops to the floor. There were about 20 more bottles of that same wine! Why spend that much if it's just gonna sit here and collect dust? But then again, rich people don't need reasons to buy such things.