Heather Miller just needed a little get away from the train wreck that her life had become recently, so she took a job as a nanny. She had no idea what exactly she was in for when she arrived at Heelshire Manor and met little Brahms Heelshire.
Heather stumbled over to her bed and sat down as she tried to process what she had just found. What had she just seen? What had she read?
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Part of her was scared out of her mind. The man had a life size doll of her lying on his bed and it didn't take a genius to figure out what he had been using it for, and his parents had just 'given her to him' as though she were an inanimate object. Part of her wanted to get up right then and make a run for it.
But, there was another part of Heather that felt sorry for Brahms. His parents had abandoned him inside the walls of their home forcing him to learn how to raise himself, and they replaced him with a doll that would never change. So for twenty years he wasn't allowed to age past that of an eight year old boy.
He had gone through all the milestones of growing up all alone probably not knowing what was happening to him, and the Heelshires were too caught up in their illusions to help the boy along.
She sighed as she made her decision, "Heather, you are an idiot." She scolded herself and she stood and left the room.
"Brahms!" Heather called as she began making her way down the stairs, "Brahms?" She was nearly to the bottom of the stairs when Brahms popped up from around the corner.
"God!" she gasped, placing a hand over her chest, "You scared me." She chuckled nervously.
He just cocked his head and stood there staring at her.
"Um, what... where did you go?" She asked as she moved past him towards the study.
"Traps" he murmured childishly as he followed behind her.
Heather sighed as she moved to sit, "Sit down, Brahms."
Brahms walked over and sat down on the couch next to her, his eyes never leaving her face, "What's wrong Heather?" he asked.
Heather turned to look at him, "Brahms, do you know how old you are?"
He shook his head and cocked it in confusion so she continued, "Brahms, you're twenty-eight years old."
She watched his eyes widen a bit, but he wasn't freaking out so she decided to continue, "I know your mommy and daddy probably liked it better when you talked like little Brahms, but you don't have to do that with me, okay? You can talk like a big boy."
He watched her curiously for a moment before hesitantly nodding his head, "Okay." He answered in his real voice. It was deep and husky, but also a bit gravelly from disuse.
Heather felt a shiver go down her back, but ignored it, "Good, now that that's out of the way we need to talk." She took a deep breath, "Brahms I found your room inside the wall."
Brahms' eyes got huge under his mask and jumped to his feet breathing deeply in anger. Heather's own eyes widened in fright, but she tried to control herself. She knew that if she freaked out he would too.
"Sit down, Brahms." She commanded, "We're not done talking."
He took a deep breath and tensely sat back down.
"First I would like to apologize for entering your room uninvited. I didn't mean to go in there. I was looking for you after Malcolm left and stumbled in there by accident." Heather explained and that seemed to calm Brahms down a bit.
"Good, now we need to discus the doll you made of me on your bed," She started nervously and Brahms began shifting in his seat. He was embarrassed.
"Brahms, why do you have that doll?" She asked him calmly.
Brahms shrugged silently.
Heather sighed, "If you don't want to answer me then that is just fine, I know what you use the doll for."
He still wouldn't look up at her. He was ashamed to have been caught.
"I also found the letter from your parents." She started and saw his hands clench, "I know they gave me to you."
He nodded and looked up at her then, "They said you're mine now."
Ooh that voice did things to her that Heather was not proud of, "Yes I saw that. But Brahms I'm a person, not an object. Your parents had not right to just give me to you."
He tensed up at that put she placed her hand down on top of his, "But I would like to stay here with you, if you'll let me, and I could help you learn how to be a big boy."
Brahms was nodding his head before she had even finished talking, "Yes Heather, please stay?"
Heather nodded at him, "I will, but if I'm going to stay then there are a few more things we need to discus."
He cocked his head; Heather was getting real tired of not being able to see in expression, "Like what?"
"Well for starters," She began, "I was thinking that instead of taking care of the doll, I could take care of you instead, and only use the doll when Malcolm comes over."
He watched her for a moment as he thought over her proposition, until finally he nodded his head, "Okay."
Heather smiled at him, "Good, and now one more thing. What do you think about getting rid of the mask?"
He reached his hand up and touched it gently, "Why?"
She then paused and asked, "Well, why do you wear the mask, Brahms?"
"Mummy and daddy said I had to wear the mask, so I could stay little Brahms forever." He answered her sadly.
Heather felt so bad for him, his parents had forced him to remain their little boy forever and had severely stunted his mental growth because of it, "Well," She said slowly, "If I'm going to help you be a big boy, then you need to have a big boy's face. So we need to get rid of the mask."
Brahms sat there mulling over her words for a moment before finally nodding, "Okay." He then slowly reached up and grabbed the bottom of the mask and began pulling it up over his head.
Once he finally had it completely off Heather could do nothing but sit there and stare.
She gaped openly as she observed his sharp jaw, chin, and cheekbones; his skin was like flawless porcelain. On either side of his straight nose were two blazing hazel eyes. Spiked, warm brown fringed with smooth green. His dark brows were actually graceful, but currently furrowed in a frown. All of it was framed by thick, warm dark chocolate curls, and a thick beard.
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After a while Brahms began shifting nervously, "Heather?" he questioned.
She shook herself from her stupor and smiled up at him, "Brahms," she breathed, "you're so handsome."
Her words causing a blush to rise to the man's face.
