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An awkward silence pursued for a couple of minutes, and you panicked. Did he believe you?

"Ok.." Malcolm trailed off, waiting for you to say more.

You took a deep breath in. "There was a guy back home. Cole. Everyone I knew begged me to leave him. And then I found out I was pregnant."

Malcolm looked at you with horror, already not liking where this was going. To be honest, you didn't want to repeat the same thing you told the cops a couple of months ago, but what choice did you have? The dude clearly wanted to know more about you, and this was as much as you were willing, within your boundaries, to tell him.

"Then, one day, he beat me and I had to go to the hospital. But I knew before I even got there that I had lost the baby."

You took a deep sigh.

"What I'm trying to say is I know what it feels like to lose a child. I feel like it ties me to the Heelshires, to Brahms, to this place. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Yeah, it does," Malcolm reassured you, placing his hand delicately on your shoulder. He looked at you with eyes that were filled with worry and concern.

His hand travelled up your shoulder to your neck and he pulled you in, roughly smashing his lips to yours. To him, it probably felt like eternal paradise, but to you, it felt wrong. So very, very wrong.

---

Malcolm sat on your bed, listening to you repeat the same prayer the Heelshires had recited to that doll so many times before you.

He hoped the doll hadn't taken some sort of a twisted, mental grab on you, on your precious mind.

To be so brutally attacked by such a monster and to lose a child, no wonder you didn't want to leave Brahms and go out for a night with Malcolm.

Your mental state is fragile right now, so anything, including a silly doll, could drain you of your sanity.

Well, not your sanity, but whatever pieces of you that were left intact after Cole attacked you.

---

"God bless Malcolm, God bless me, and God bless Brahmsy," You whispered, looking down on Brahms as he lay tucked into his bed. "Sweet dreams."

Kissing Brahms and turning off the light, you left Brahms' room and entered your own.

You closed the door behind you, giving Malcolm a few seconds to stand up. He walked over to you and stared at you briefly. It gave you anxiety.

"Hey," You started.

"So.."

"That's a nice shirt," You complimented him.

"My mother bought me this shirt," He admitted, slightly killing the mood.

"Good taste."

To make him get the point, you began to unbutton the top of it, feeling the rapid beating of his heart underneath the cloth.

"I'll let her know."

God's sake, Malcolm, stop.

'Oh, God, is he a virgin?' You thought. 'That would explain how he kills the mood so fast: he doesn't know what to do!'

---

The floorboards creaked outside your room, even though there was no one else in the house except for you and Malcolm.

"Hold on," You managed to slip out as Malcolm layered you with sloppy kisses.

Malcolm stopped and frowned, "You okay?"

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