Weird for weird
Part 3
Brahms Heelshire x childood friend male reader
Part 1 here
Part 2 here
You had refused to believe Brahms could be alive for months. Ignored the noises,the doll moving,the creacks that you knew weren't just the house settling. Because you knew yourself. You knew how much you loved Brahms. How much you still love him despite the decades that have passed. It was only logical to think you were simply delusional. And far easier than deal with the thought that maybe all the pain you carried was for nothing. That Brahms was still alive. That you could have had your friend with you all those years,instead of being alone.
But now you couldn't deny it anymore. Not when he's standing right in front of you,watching as you pretend to sleep.
You were in bed trying to fall asleep when you heard a door opening. Except,it wasn't the room's door. The noise came from where the mirror was. Your hand flew to the gun you were now used to sleeping with,ready to defend yourself,and you dared to open one eye a fraction. A hulking figure stood by your bed,silently staring at you. As your eye got used to the dark,you slowly looked up at the man's face. It was covered by a porcelain mask similar to the doll's face. Once you could see more clearly,your eye almost widened,revealing you were awake.
Brahms?
How is this possible? Brahms is dead. He died twenty years ago...you cried for him...mourned him...
And yet,you knew it was him you were looking at. You could recognize those eyes anywhere,with how they had plagued your dreams for years now.
For the first time in a very long time,you have no idea what to do. You usually have a plan for everything just in case,but this? This you didn't know how to deal with. Too many emotions at once,you did the only thing you felt safe doing and spaced out.
You felt more than saw Brahms' body tense at that. Yep,it's definitely him. No one else could ever tell when you spaced out so quickly.
He simply stood there,a calming presence as your mind slipped further away.
When your senses came back that morning,he was still there. Now sitting next to your bed,his head resting on the matress next to your face,asleep. You stared as his chest rose and feel ritmically. You wanted to reach out. To shake him,to scream at him,to make sure this wasn't just an hallucination. Instead you stayed still,watching him. He grew up so much,and yet you could still recognize that boy who you used to spend your time with everyday. In in his stance,in the color of his hair,in the way his eyes were never quite still even as he slept. He doesn't know it,but you spent many of your nights hiding away in his room,watching him sleep,when you were just a kid. You can vaguely see the irony in how the roles swapped,but it wasn't particularly amusing. You never really understood what was so funny about irony,but you had to learn to recognize it to be able to understand other people better.
When he woke up,you almost cried out. Because you could finally see those dark eyes clearly,and suddently your brain realized thar this really was your Brahms. Not a dream or a delusion. Your Brahms.
You never really were one for physical touch. You usually keep your distance from everyone. And yet at that moment,you all but jump on him,wrapping your arms tight around his torso and holding on like your life depended on it. Maybe it did.
Because despite surviving all those years,despite the fake bonds with other people you had spend so much time crafting,despite the life you had pretended to live,you never were really living. You were simply doing what you knew you were supposed to do. But your heart,your dreams,your soul died the day you lost Brahms. And now that you had him in your arms,you could feel them coming back. You could feel life start again. You could feel the sun hitting you,the blanket still laying over your lower half,the birds chirping outside. The worls seemed to come back to life as you could hear Brahms' heart beating in his chest,his arm wrapped so tight around you it hurt,his silent sobs as he held you. You finally found your heart again. And you never,ever gonna let him go again.
Guys do y'all want a bonus chapter written trought Brahms' perspective? Basically the whole story trought his eyes? I will write it if someone requests it.
