Hell's Book of Random One-shots

Forboding Tantrum - Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) - Request

He was in that mood again tonight and boy, were you not in a good enough one to put up with it.

All you wanted to do was sit down, preferably with a nice warm drink, and put your feet up after a long day dealing with another rich family's brat, now you were at home and stuck dealing with your own little brat who wanted you to pay him some attention.

How much longer until you called it quits?

You turned your head to look towards Brahms, who was stood behind the couch wearing his signature mask and clenching and unclenching his fingers while waiting for you to take him out of timeout.

Never in your life did you think you'd live to see a day where you had to tell a, theoretically, grown man that; "You can come out of the corner when you learn to behave."

That had been five minutes ago.

"Are you done now?" You asked in your best gentle nanny voice.

He lifted his head and looked towards you, taking a minute before slowly nodding.

"And will you behave if I let you out?"

Another nod.

"Okay," you smiled and held out your hand, "then you can sit down with me until you've calmed down."

Brahms stepped out from his corner, barely grasping your hand as he stepped around to settle down beside you, leaning against you as he sought comfort.

Even with a mask hiding his true face, he was easy to read.

It had taken a while to get accustomed to this new life of yours, Brahms wasn't the easiest of people to adapt to but, after much trial and error, you had both settled into a comfortable routine around one another.

You had learned about his past, which was the most difficult thing to get your head around and it took you a while to build up the trust and confidence that you had gained during your duration together, yet eventually you found yourself slipping back into that comfort from before.

Glancing towards your clock, you noted the time and finished the last bit of your drink.

Leaning forward, you set the cup down on the nearest table then turned to Brahms, who seemed to be watching your every move.

A small shiver went down your spine as you thought of the implications of what happened to the nannies he'd had in the past, the ones who hadn't met his standards and couldn't help but be thankful that you hadn't fallen into that category.

"Okay, we have enough time for some reading before bed."

Brahms stared up at you then slowly shook his head as he sat up straight.

"I don't want to," he said quietly, "I want to play a game."

"We'll do that tomorrow, for now it's time to settle down before bedtime, you know the rules."

"No."

"Brahms," you said sternly, furrowing your brows.

He was getting wound up again, the way his chest started to heave as his breath quickened gave away that he was breadths away from another tantrum and you wanted nothing more than to try and extinguish the flame before it got too big.

"Tomorrow, we'll do whatever you want tomor-"

It was in the blink of an eye that he had lunged forward, hands clasped around your throat as his tantrum blinded him to consequence.

You sputtered and kicked out, grabbing onto his wrists to try and pry his hands off of you, but instead his fingers tightened and constricted your air supply.

It was a surreal experience, Brahms had never lashed out this badly before with you and to be on the receiving end of his strength was more terrifying than you had initially accounted for.

You were aware of how imposing he was, his height wasn't anything to scoff at and he certainly had a strength to him that seemed bizarrely inhuman but never had you imagined getting caught here, slipping beneath him as he continued to try and choke the life out of you.

This wasn't your Brahms, he would never do this to you.

Barely any time at all seemed to pass before your eyes started to go blurry and a little black at the sides, your thrashing weakening as your energy quickly dissipated.

"B-Brahms," you barely managed to croak out, not that it sounded entirely human either, "st-....sto-op."

Something seemed to snap him back into reality, his hands loosened and he leaned back as you stared up at him, head beginning to pound and tears aiding in the blurriness of your already failing vision.

There's a tense moment of silence as he continued to loom over you, catching his breath as the sudden rush of air into your own lungs caused you to wheeze and heave more violently than you ever had in your life.

As suddenly as it had started, it was over and now you weren't sure where to go from here.

Brahms seemed as surprised as you did, his hands hovering over you as if he wasn't sure what to do with them.

Eventually, he gained enough clarity to practically jump off of the couch, lingering beside it briefly with his back turned towards you as you pushed yourself back up to sit against the armrest, one hand clasped to your throat.

You wanted to try and attempt to croak out his name, but simply breathing out was luring another coughing fit which you didn't want to subject yourself to after the last one had just died down.

So you stayed silent, another minute lingering as you both lost yourselves.

Your chest heaved with a coughed sob and that spurred Brahms into action, practically flinching away from you before taking strides towards the door.

As Brahms hastily left the room, fiddling with the sleeves of his cardigan as he rushed out to no doubt hide in his walls once again, you cowered in the corner of the couch, holding your throat while trying to stave off the rising coughing fit.

You tried to catch your breath through the tickling tightness, eyes staring at the wall in front of you as tears ran down your cheeks.

Never had you been as afraid of Brahms as you were in that moment.

(I do apologise if this is terrible, I have never watched The Boy and but I wanted the challenge and did my best with the research into the character that I could find (the little where was of it).
Hope you enjoyed it all the same.)