Chapter Text
You could feel him. His presence. It was always there, looming, intimidating, watching. Even when you wanted to be alone. You missed the days when you thought the feeling was from a ghost, not from a perverted thirty-something man living in the walls.
Trying your best to ignore it, you continued looking for a book to read, your headphones blasting music into your ears. The music was a new coping mechanism, because after you found out about Brahms, every sound in the house would make you jump in fear. The music helped stop that.
You pulled out the book Frankenstein, deciding to finally try your hand at the classic. You walked over to the armchair and plopped down, cracking open the book.
The way it was written made it hard for you to get in to, but you powered through it. Vaguely you wondered if people actually spent that much energy talking like that back in the day. The first three pages could've been condensed to a single sentence; 'I'm lonely, dear sister.' That's it. That's literally all it would have taken to get that point across.
"That's a good book." Suddenly cut through your music, making you scream and nearly fall out of the chair.
Brahms jumped beside you, holding up his hands in surprise.
"Damn it!" Ripping off your headphones, you glared up at the masked man. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"I tried talking." He folded his hands behind his back, tilting his head down. "I'm sorry."
Sighing, you tossed the book onto the coffee table. "What did you want?"
"I just wanted to..." He looked off to the side, his voice faltering. Truth be told, he had no idea what it was he really wanted. He just wanted to be near you. To talk to you. For you to like him. But that was too many things to ask for. "Will you read to me?"
"Brahms..." You sighed, running your hand through your hair. No matter how crazy this entire situation was, he was still paying you. And thanks to debt and the rocky state of the world there was no way you were leaving this job when it paid so well. Though you probably should mind how irritated you got to Brahms, considering he was the one paying you now.
"Okay." You finally said, picking the book back up. "I haven't gotten very far anyway."
"Can we sit on the couch?" He asked, perking up.
"Fine." You moved to the couch, setting up several pillows to prop yourself up on. You laid on your side, getting comfortable. "Do you mind putting my legs on your lap? It's comfier than sitting up straight."
Brahms quickly shook his head, sitting in the couch cushion next to you. You put your legs on his lap, and Brahms gasped so loudly once you made contact you quickly swung your legs off the couch.
"Did I kick you?" You asked, frowning. It didn't feel like you had kicked him, but his gasp was so alarming you didn't trust yourself.
He quickly shook his head, looking at you with wide eyes. "No, sorry, no. Put them back."
You raised your eyebrow, but you slowly put them back. Brahms gasped again, but this time it sounded muffled, like he was biting his cheek.
"Hm." You turned back to page one, beginning to read to him. As you read, he tentatively put his hands on your calves, slowly running his thumbs over the seams of your pants. You could have sworn you saw him shiver.
Ignoring that, you focused on reading, absorbing the story a little better now that you were reading it a second time. As you read, Brahms slowly began to sink on his side. It was so gradual (and since you were busy reading) you didn't notice until his head was resting on your hip.
His arms slowly snaked around your waist, a ragged sigh and another shiver coming from him. You glanced down at him, hearing him swallow nervously as he lightly squeezed you.
You turned the page of the book, continuing to read. You then rested your hand in his hair, and you swore he bit back a moan.
Your chest tightened at the sound. Brahms was creepy, and he had a lot of faults, but seeing him so needy for touch made you feel sorry for him. You lightly scratched his scalp, sending another shiver through his body.
Focusing on the book, you continued to read for him, allowing him to touch you freely this once. It felt like he needed it. As long as he didn't try anything funny, you'd make a point to touch him a little more often.