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"You and Brahms are getting along."

Instinctively, you looked to Brahms, who sat on a wooden chair in the kitchen, motionless. Staring into some unknown abyss.

You sigh, peeling a pear for Brahms, as Malcolm places the groceries in their specific place.

"I was thinking I'll take you on a night on the town," Malcolm admitted. "Dinner, drinks, dancing? I'll have you know, I'm a legend in these parts for my dance moves."

You looked up at him in surprise, forgetting when you asked him. To be honest, when he leaned in closer, you felt vulnerable, and not in a good way. His eyes looking at you from every angle, clearly failing to flirt with you.

"I don't so," You whispered, nodding over to Brahms. After all, rule number 2 clearly states to never leave Brahms alone.

Over the past couple of days, especially when the doll made the sandwich for you, you haven't been eager to leave the doll alone much.

Who knows what it would do if you broke any more rules? You couldn't let the Heelshires home be damaged. They would come back and revoke your pay, but you needed this money and couldn't throw it away on something as stupid as leaving the doll alone.

Malcolm laughed. "Well, you're not worried about Brahms?"

Well done. You hit the jackpot.

Malcolm moved closer to the doll. "He doesn't mind!"

Motherly instincts kicked in and you snapped your head to Brahms, making sure Malcolm doesn't hurt him. Wait.

What are you thinking?

Malcolm wouldn't hurt a fly, and the doll can't feel anyway!

You're losing your mind, Y/N.

"Hey, you old sod," Malcolm greeted the doll.

In a high pitched voice, he said, "'Course not, I've been hoping she'll get out. I need a little privacy."

Malcolm turned his head to you and gave you the creepiest look you had ever seen. He creeped you out. You stared at him in return, instantly wanting him to leave. Still, you couldn't help but let a smile creep up onto your face.

He continued mimicking Brahms. "I think I'll watch tele, have a nice bath. A little Brahms' time."

You couldn't believe it. If Brahms were alive now, he would be fuming. You would bet money on that.

Finally, Malcolm returned to his normal voice. "Hey, yeah, good on you. High five." He slapped the doll's hand, in a friendly, jokey way. Still, you were worried the doll would break at any moment from his brutal touch.

Now, your eyes were filled to the brim with rage. Amazingly, however, you managed to keep that rage contained and not exert it on Malcolm.

"Another time," You announced and began to resume peeling the pear.

Malcolm looked at you with defeat written all over his face. You felt a sense of pride.

"I better be off," He muttered, taking his coat off the wooden chair in front of you. He took the wooden crate that once held the vegetables off the kitchen table and closed the door after exiting the room.

He spared you one last glance before he left, making you feel slightly guilty for rejecting him.

---

You watched from the kitchen window as Malcolm slowly entered his car and drove off. You let a sigh out you didn't even know you had been holding in.

"Brahms," You whispered, hoping for a response. "Can you hear me?"

You wondered if there was a lost soul trapped in the doll, screaming to get out. If so, you decided to give it a chance.

"Brahms," You repeated, sliding the plate with the pear on it in front of him.

There was a long pause of silence. No movement. The house creaked, echoing through the old pipe systems all across the house. Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes.

Why is she crying?

"Give me a sign you're alive," You mumbled, raising a hand to your face. After no response and more silence, you sighed heavily. Rising from the kitchen chair you were sat in, you thought of an idea.

"Boo!"

Your idea to scare the 'spirit' didn't work.

"Stupid," You mumbled, taking the plate and scraping its content into the bin.

Leaning over the bin, you heard footsteps and a child giggling behind you. This spirit needs to make its mind up if it wants to show itself or not. It was like a cliche horror movie.

The doll had moved from its chair. Are you losing your mind in this house?

Flying down to Brahms' chair, you saw the doll not far away from its last location.

"Brahms?"

You had only one idea on what to do, and you didn't want to do it.

———

Malcolm knocked on the door and you quickly opened it.

"You okay?"

"I needed someone else to see it," You hurriedly informed him, running up the stairs.

"See what?" Malcolm questioned you, slightly confused and considering putting you in a psychiatric hospital.

You paused, catching your breath and letting your heart rest. "He's alive."

"Who?"

"Brahms."

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