Brahms Heelshire ("The boy" fan fiction)

Chapter six

Brahms stared at me through his mask. He had been wearing it non stop since the "kiss". We had been sitting in the parlor reading to ourselves- well at least I was reading. I did my best to not pay any mind to Brahms and tried to push anything involving him out of my mind. The kiss meant nothing and it should've never happened, I got so caught up in wanting him to trust me, and his deceivingly good looks I wasn't thinking rationally. He really was the devil.

The smack of a book closing jolted me out of my thoughts, Brahms was still staring at me intensely. What was his problem? I didn't say anything, and flipped a page of my book irritated by the Interruption. Brahms got up and sat beside me on the sofa, close enough to make me shiver. I decided that ignoring him would not help my case, and acknowledged his presence. "What's wrong Brahms"? Brahms didn't answer, in fact Brahms and I hadn't shared a full conversation since the 'kiss'. Even more irritated than before, I flipped another page in the book clearly not reading it any longer. Brahms didn't speak, but he grabbed my book out of my hands and placed it on the coffee table. Ready to burst at any moment from his annoying little pestering, I bit my lip pissed off, and looked at him "Brahms what's wrong"?

My question was only returned with silence. Is he angry with me? Did I do something to him? I sat spaced out again in my thoughts.
I was pulled back to attention when Brahms grabbed my arm. I looked at him, his stained mask staring back at me. He didn't say anything, he only looked. As awkward as this was, I didn't move, I didn't look away I felt like he was telling me something without speaking. But what? Just as I was about to break contact, Brahms snaked his hand to my cheek and stroked my cheekbone. Tingles erupted in my face, and eventually spread to my whole body. No. Not now. Brahms moved in closer and took off his mask. As I was face to face with his naked skin and curly hair, I completely fell into a trance. He smirked before placing his lips on mine.

It had been two hours since Brahms kissed me, and my cheeks still felt hot. No one had ever made me feel like that from just a kiss, what was this about? He's a serial killer with a control problem. I always seem to get all flustered over the bad boys. I took a deep breath and walked into the bathroom. I couldn't stay here, I'm going crazy. Is this feeling a feeling of attraction? It couldn't be, I hate Brahms. But then I thought about it, do I really hate Brahms?I turned on the faucet splashed some water on my face, I was confused and I needed sleep. I yawned and walked over to the bed. Before I could climb in, I saw Brahms' figure in the doorway. Oh no, please not now. My cheeks immediately heated up at the sight of him, I put my head down to avoid eye contact and continued getting under the covers. He still had his mask off which made everything more difficult to ignore. He was just so mesmerizing.

Brahms invited himself in the room, and stalked over to the bed taking only three long strides to reach my side of the bed. He looked down at me making me feel more intimidated and distracted. Sweat formed along my scalp and my hands started to shake. What's happening to me? Brahms saw my nervousness and smirked, he knelt down to my eye level close enough to kiss me. But he didn't. He only stared at me, his eyes burning with intensity. I couldn't look away, they held me locked to them. I was beginning to get frustrated, why is he doing this? Couldn't he leave me alone?

Brahms saw my frustration and stood up, I let out a big breath I didn't realize I had kept in. I sat up and looked at him, "What is it"? He cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowed. "Excuse me"? His voice was deeper than normal, which made my heart flutter. I squeezed my eyes shut pissed I was feeling this way about him. "Greta". I opened my eyes to see he was back at my eye level, "yeah"? I asked, my voice breaking. "Are you irritated with me"? I can't be honest and say I was, "no, I'm just surprised that you aren't so aggressive towards me anymore, you're being so"-
"What do you mean by aggressive"? He asked, his voice laced with a sudden growl. I backtracked scared that I had just made our progress worse, "you're more patient and gentle". His eyebrows lowered and he clamped his jaw, "I don't enjoy hurting the people I care about Greta, but when they break the rules and they don't listen to me I get angry. Because you have been behaving I haven't had a reason to lash out on you". My eyes widened, there went the progress. This whole time I thought he was starting to respect me when actually he was still the same. My stomach ached and my heart sunk, I'm never getting out of here. His hand gently grabbed my chin, and pointed it upwards towards his prying eyes, "Greta, you know I love you don't you"? Love? How is this love? This is force. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded slowly. I kept my eyes closed to keep from releasing the tears that had been built up. He let go of my chin and kissed my forehead. I cringed at the feeling of his lips on my face, my cheeks however, were still red hot.