His Many Masks *The Boy fan fiction*

Chapter Twelve

"The more you hide your feelings for someone, the more you fall for them"
                                                            - Anonymous

I watched Brahms intently as he made his way around the kitchen preparing food. I, as a person could never cook I'd always mess up the recipe somehow and offend whoever I was cooking for so I stuck to eating. It served me fine.

After our walk, Brahms was in a noticeably good mood. It helped that I could see his face to actually determine if he was pleasant.

He truly seemed much happier I assumed it was because he finally didn't feel like he needed his mask anymore.

He had no outward expression, other than his lips were slightly turned upwards and his eyes were dancing. Since his face had always been blocked out by his mask, I took any hint of emotion and ran with it.

The thing that caught my eye the most, was his scar. It wasn't ugly by any stretch. The way it swirled around the right side of his face like a painting kind of made it unique in a way, I had never seen burn marks of that nature before in my life.

Brahms noticed me staring and narrowed his eyes, "something wrong?"

I shook my head, "no, but I do have a question."

Brahms nodded at me to continue.

"Did you wear that mask before I came here?"

Brahms went stiff as a board once I finished my question. I didn't think it'd offend him since it really was an honest question.

"I'm sorry if I offended you." I said softly, hoping I hadn't just erased all of the progress we had just made.

Brahms responded quicker than I had thought he would, "yes."

I didn't want to pry, but I wondered what had made him wear a mask in his own home. Was he hiding his face from everyone? Was he told he had to wear it?

Brahms must've saw the wheels turning in my mind because he spoke again. "I wore it ever since the accident." He said.

I knew better than to ask about the accident so I left it at that. Brahms was a hard person to figure out and he couldn't be pushed to answer questions if he didn't want to. I decided to enjoy Brahms' good mood before he could get unpredictable again.

Brahms set a plate of noodles topped with tomato sauce in front of me. "Spaghetti." He said as if he was a teacher showing a child a sight word.

I almost laughed out loud, "thank you Brahms. I've had spaghetti before."

Brahms' face remained blank, but his eyes were slightly laughing.

I ate up, avoiding anything that could break his steady mood, I found myself doing that a lot lately but it was nothing I hadn't done for other people in the past. For some reason I set people off easily.

Once I was done, I cleared my own plate and began to wash the dishes that had steadily stacked themselves to a high pile in the sink. I looked over at Brahms who watched me on the other side of the isle.

"Would you like to help me?" I asked holding out a soap covered sponge. Brahms nodded even though I gave him little room to decline my offer and began to scrub a sauce pan with a sponge.

We were able to finish the dishes quick since we both were washing. Once everything was set out to dry, I yawned and stretched my arms.

"Going to bed?" Brahms asked.

I thought about how well we got along today and I didn't quite want it to end just yet. "Are you?" I asked sheepishly suddenly feeling embarrassed about asking him.