Between The Walls

Chapter 25 (Revised)

Recap: Brahms and Isabella's friendship continued to blossom. Meanwhile, a new character enters our story: Mr. Fredrick Valentia, Brahms' grandfather has arrived. For 20 years, the grandson he believed to be dead is alive. And he is intent on bringing the life stolen from him back...

 Note: As opposed to the flow of the former plot, Brahms' grandfather did not take him in right away in this version. So our two main characters are left with a little bit of time alone.

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The pitter-patter of Brahms' feet is once again keeping Isabelle up. It's almost midnight and Mr. Walk-a-ton seems to have no plans on going to sleep. But who would be able to fall asleep when faced with the same predicament? Brahms' life just turned upside down in the span of a week. He lost his parents, gained a friend, reconnected with a relative and is now on the queue for a life makeover.

Sighing, she took a shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders before setting foot out of her room. She wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, so might as well get up and do something.

She found Brahms pacing the whole second floor with his hands clasped behind his back. His pacing stopped once he caught sight of her. She shivered, unsure if its because of the cold or because of his paralyzing gaze.

She cleared her throat and held her shawl tighter around her shoulders. "Can't sleep?" she asked.

Brahms only shook his head, eyes fixated on nothing but her. Suddenly feeling shy around him, she ducked her head and stared at the floor.

What a shiny floor...

Gathering her courage, she spoke once more. "Maybe some milk and cookies might help. Come." Not waiting for a reply, Isabelle went and headed for the stairs. It wasn't long before Brahms' footfalls follow behind her.

Reaching the kitchen, Brahms watched as Isabelle immediately warmed some milk for them and put some left-over biscuits on the microwave. As she moves, he took the time to admire her petite but shapely frame. Her thin chemise did nothing to hide her ample bosom, small waist and rounded hips.

"Why are you still wearing your mask?" her voice broke him out of his reverie. He held his breath as she slowly walked over to him and carefully touched the side of his mask. "You can't eat with this on. Besides, I told you, you don't have to use this anymore," she whispered.

Her flowery scent clouded his senses, and his heart bangs against his chest. For a moment, he wondered if she has any idea of the effects she has on him. Her eyes raked over his mask, an unknown emotion flashing across her face.

The sound of the microwave took the both of them out of the stupor. Isabelle moved to take their food but was stopped short when Brahms gently grasped her arm. Her eyes traveled from where his hand wraps around her elbow towards his face.

Eyes fixated upon her, Brahms slowly pulled his mask off with his other hand. With bated breath, Isabelle took in his features as he reveals his face before her for the third time.

The first thing she noticed is his eyes. Gray-colored eyes framed with thick lashes. Something about them mesmerizes her. His right eye is partly scarred, but it only serves to add to his mysterious aura.

Brahms keenly observed Isabelle's reaction to his grotesquely marred face. She does not seem to be repulsed by his appearance. In fact, she seems to be admiring him, something he has never experienced before. He was used to the frightened side glances, to the darting panicky eyes, but never for quaint adoration.

Suddenly feeling a gravitational pull guiding him towards her, he ever so slowly crouched and touched his nose over hers. Nervous but seeing no sign of rejection, he finally claimed her lips.

It was soft, softer than what he imagined it to be and the taste reminds him of strawberries. Time stood still as he relish in the feeling of her lips upon his. He felt as if he could finally rest again in his newfound heaven.

She hesitantly pressed her lips deeper into his, hands laying flat over his chest in an effort to steady herself.

He took the chance to wrap his arms around her petite waist, puling her impossibly closer to him. His hard body welcomed her soft curves. So this is what it felt like...

She could feel the strength of his muscles he pulled her to him. She's caged her in his arms, and she had never felt more safe and protected. Feeling a little bolder, she moved her hands from his chest towards the back of his head. His hair is surprisingly soft and curls around her fingers. She tugged at them and like a puppet, Brahms let out a breathy moan against her mouth.

But the smell of smoke rudely dragged her out of her seemingly drunken state.

The cookies!

Letting out a surprised shriek, she quickly detangled herself from him, rushing to take the pastries out of the microwave. They're burnt, and no longer resembles the treats she used to bake. Have they really been kissing for that long?

Sheepishly placing the tray over the counter, she suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment. All of this happened because she decided to share a kiss with Brahms. And now she knows not how to face him.

She watched as he slowly walked over to where she's heating the milk and poured two cups for both of them. He then tried to turn off the stove by blowing air onto the fire like a candle.

His antics elicited a laugh from her, effectively clearing the awkward atmosphere. She walked over to him and showed him how to properly turn off the stove. It was his turn to look sheepish. 

They both took their cups to the living room where they spent the night talking until they could no longer keep their eyes open. Before they knew it, morning has come and it was now time for Brahms to leave.