His Many Masks *The Boy fan fiction*

Chapter Five

"Being comfortable occurs when you simply get used to the things that you felt uncomfortable around before."
                                                            - Anonymous

Brahms' eyes moved from mine. His grip on my arm loosened.

I mentally cringed at his response. Was he ugly? Was it a privacy thing?

"Brahms-"

"Nothing of importance." He finally responded.

I looked down. Of course. Of course he'd be short with me.

"Ok." I said. I didn't feel like fighting with him. What was his, was his. I had no business poking around anyway. A small part of me deep down however, wondered what his face really looked like.

Once we made it back to the bedroom, Brahms walked me over to the bed where I took a seat. He stood a ways away from me, observing me I suppose. Feeling slightly irritated at his behavior and secretive mood, I decided that I needed some sleep. I wasn't tired, but I needed a few hours away from Brahms and his eyes.

"I'm a little tired." I said faking a yawn.

Brahms didn't move.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." I added, raising my eyebrow.

Brahms didn't say anything, and without a word left the room. I found it odd he didn't at least say good night. I wasn't surprised though.

Once he left, I looked around the bedroom a bit, observing all of the toys and little trinkets set up on the shelves around me. To say it was creepy was an understatement. I was puzzled to think Brahms ever stayed in this room, as a child even. But then I thought about him and how he acts socially, and concluded that this room would fit his odd and dark personality well. My thoughts shifted to the painting I had seen on the staircase. The couple with the young Brahms were either his parents or his grandparents. Brahms has said that he lived alone, so did that mean they were dead?

I felt a little sorry for him at the thought of his family being dead. I knew how it felt to be alone. It wasn't easy to move on.

Eventually, I yawned for real and began to feel my eyes droop. Deciding to push my thoughts away until morning, I slowly laid my head on the pillow of the bed and drifted off to sleep thinking of my ankle healing, and me continuing my life away from the mansion. My old life.

                                             ~

Small rays of sun shone on my face from a window to my left that wasn't completely covered with a thick drape, like the ones in the rest of the room were. I sat up slowly and rubbed my eyes. "Another day," I said aloud. I wondered where Brahms went. He wasn't in his bedroom since I was here.

I suddenly had the urge to relieve myself, but I couldn't get to the bathroom on my own. I looked desperately around the room in hopes that I could find something to use to walk with. There was absolutely nothing to aid me. I refused to call for Brahms to help me. Discouraged, at my situation, I lowered myself down to the floor and began to scoot on my butt out of the room.

Once I made it outside of the bedroom, the staircase at the end of the hallway caught my eye. I hadn't seen much of the house other than the foyer, kitchen, and the bedrooms. My heart nearly stopped when I thought of the kitchen. The body that I thought I had seen popped into my head again. I physically cringed. I tried to occupy myself with scooting down the hallway, I needed my full attention to keep myself from falling once I reached the stairs.

On my way to the staircase, I imagined what the other rooms in the house looked like. I itched to see every bit of the house. If I was practically stuck here for at least a month I figured I could at least explore it.