Chapter 15

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Brahms immediately shot up upon seeing her. He was so focused on trying to sleep the pain of his wounds off, that he didn't notice her inching her way into his room.

She looked like an angel, if angels are small, blubbering messes. She was nervous. Now that she had located him, she did not know what to say. They stared at each other as the both of them thinks of what to do.

His mask is back on, hiding his injuries. It was dirtied and chipping at the edges. If they don't do anything about it, he would get an infection.

Finally, she took a deep breath and approached him. "Brahms, I-

"Why are you here?" he abruptly cut off.

"I just wanted to thank you. You saved me." she explained. "And- and I wanted to check on your wounds."

"No." he said. He took a moment, choosing his next words. "You don't have to thank me. I broke our deal, so we're even."

"No we're not, you did it to save me-" Isabelle paused to take a deep breath. Wounds. She needs to clean his wounds. "How about we talk about this later? We need to clean you wounds before it gets infected."

"No." he answered, laying back down on his bed.

"Why not?"

"Mask." was his one-word reply.

It was Isabelle's turn to choose her next words. She didn't want to offend him, or make him any more uncomfortable. "Why do you wear a mask, Brahms?" she finally asked.

Brahms looked away, embarrassed by the question. "Nobody should be burdened to see Brahms' face." he said, pointing to his face.

"Who told you that?" she asked before really thinking about it. "I'm sorry, it was none of my business."

"It was part of the deal. Mask in exchange for music." he replied anyway.

His reply depressed her. What kind of deal was that? Sometimes, she wonders if the Heelshires really loved their son. But despite the circumstances, she knows that somehow, they do. Why else would they drag her deep into their family issues if they don't? Isabelle wanted to interrogate him more, but decided against it. Her list of unspoken questions are piling up, but she isn't really sure if she wants them answered.

Wounds, she remembered. Right.

"Brahms," she tried again. "What exactly does our deal entail?"

Brahms answered immediately, having memorized the deal by heart. "Brahms stays in his wall, and Isabelle stays with Brahms. Isabelle will take care of Brahms, and Brahms will not bother Isabelle."

Isabelle ponders for quite a while. Deals. Brahms seems to care about them a lot. She didn't particularly like it. It made her feel as if she just sold her soul to the devil and now, she's chained by her words. Nevertheless, she decided that she would try to work her way around it. Who knows, this could prove to be beneficial for the both of them.

Alright, she thought. If this is what you want, Brahms.

"Brahms, how about we make another deal?"

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