His Many Masks *The Boy fan fiction*

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Insert quote"  ~ still got nothin'

Even though funds had been discussed, I still wanted to make a small bit of money that we could use to treat ourselves. Always being on a strict budget left no leeway for any leisurely activities. That isn't how I wanted life to go for either of us.

I was and have been caught in the back and forth feeling of wanting to potentially marry Brahms, or  wanting to leave eventually and move on with my life. Neither were appealing enough to make me decide. So I did what I could do and stayed put.

But that can't be my life. Avoiding a decision, and staying in this situational purgatory.

It wasn't that I didn't care about him, but I just didn't think with my past, and the constant running, that settling down and committing to something as serious as a relationship was really in my best interest. I was back and forth trying to decide what I wanted.

I just didn't want to hurt him and in all honesty, I didn't want to leave either. In the back of my mind, I was, in the sense of the word, "in love" with him. I trusted him, and he made me feel more safe than anyone had since my mother.

I didn't know how Brahms felt. I didn't know if I was just appealing to him because I was the first woman he had ever been involved with, or that he actually cared for me. He was an extremely hard book to read.

What he had given me, clear as day, were his interests and desires on a silver platter. They were all too clingy, and therefore I had a hard time accepting them. I wasn't used to "commitment" since I spent a good bit of my life avoiding relationships altogether.

It was more difficult accepting Brahms in my life than I had originally planned when I decided to stay after my ankle had healed, and I was beginning to slightly panic the more he brought up the future.

I was upstairs in "my" room sorting through the clothes I had accumulated over the last month when there was a slight knock on my door.

Even as a grown man, Brahms still had that childish shyness to him that never failed to melt whatever cold walls I had built around my emotions. He was, on the inside, still very much a child.

"Come in," I called.

Brahms gently pushed the door open, and came in with a large lump of what looked to be a very butchered cake.

I furrowed my brows, and put down a bundle of clothes that I had been sorting.

"Brahms, what is that?" I asked.

He held the cake up, "it's for your birthday."

"My birthday?" I asked. And then it dawned on me. I had forgotten completely about my birthday.

"I remember you telling me that you had a birthday this month. I'm not sure when, but, in case I'm on time, happy birthday Kátalin."

My cheeks warmed. He was so attractive when he was thoughtful.

"Thank you Brahms. I love it."

Brahms smiled, "it's not very edible I don't think," he gave me an apologetic look and glanced embarrassedly at the cake.

"It's still very lovely, it's the best cake I've ever received," I smiled.

He made it so hard to be unhappy when he made such sweet little gestures. In reality, my birthday didn't mean much to me so it was easy to forget it in the scheme of things.

Brahms set the cake on the end table beside my bed, and gave it another dissatisfying look before sitting beside me. His eyes searched mine for some type of reaction aside from my usually pleasant smile.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"Is there anything you'd like for your birthday?"

I sighed, "Brahms, honestly you don't have to get me anything. I'm happy with what I have."

Was I?

Brahms furrowed his brow, "you're turning twenty right?" He asked.

I nodded my head slowly, realizing that I was in fact turning twenty.

"What's the date?"

"The fourth."

"Of what?"

"December."

My eyes grew wide, how long have I actually been here? And why haven't I noticed until now?

I used to count down the days until my birthday, now I'm forgetting them?

I can't even act surprised about it, everything is dull to me. It's like the Christmas after finding out that Santa Claus isn't real, there's really no longer any fun or magic in the feeling around the holidays. This is similar, just a dull lifeless, experience.

Brahms noticed my silence and immediately began acting slightly defensive, "you're thinking about something, what is it?"

I couldn't help but notice the tone change, and quickly gave him a smile and a shrug, "just lost in thought I suppose, it's hard to believe I'm turning twenty."

I'm sure Brahms didn't buy it, but I could see it in his eyes, a slight carelessness. Hmm.

"Kátalin, don't worry about age, that is the least of your issues."

I know he meant it as a sarcastic compliment, but I couldn't help but get somewhat offended. The word issues really stood out to me as a jab at my mental health. All of the sudden he was turning into an ass. An ass that never insulted me until now.

"Right," I said.

Brahms looked alarmed at my sharp remark, but wasn't surprised at my reaction. He's toying with me in some way and I don't think he realizes that I am a master mirror. No one can manipulate more than me.

"I'd like to go to town for my birthday."
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Still wish I could write more than 1,000 word chapters, especially because I haven't updated for you in six months. Work has been kicking my ### so updating has become more of a back burner thing until a random day I'm finally able to pull myself out of whatever slump I'm in and start writing.

Enough of whatever I'm talking about, please please enjoy this chapter; even though it's short and one of my least favorites. In all honestly, one of my New Years resolutions is to make more time for writing. I'm so looking forward to being more active on here, and hopefully improve my writing.

Thank you again for reading,
- Ri