"No quote, I'm burnt out."
- me (lol)
I gasped sitting straight up in bed. Another nightmare. I pushed the sweaty hair back off of my forehead and attempted to catch my breath. Ever since our argument, I've been fighting my demons alone.
I felt in some way it was my fault. I knew my turbulent thoughts would come back to find me eventually. Mentally, I had been toying with him. I deserved his wrath, but not the circumstance in which he chose to display it.
It isn't like he didn't try to apologize. I just shut him out to shield my own pride, and to nurse my ego.
Like me, he was damaged. He feared I would leave him and acted accordingly. I didn't blame him for his territorial behavior, but I didn't like his choice to oppress me of my own free will.
That was something I couldn't forgive, not easily anyway.
My birthday that he had been so excited about had came and gone. I didn't bat an eye. Nothing like that mattered to me anymore. Twenty years of hell, wasn't much of an exciting landmark. I just knew I was a year older than the last, and it would only increase with time.
It made me think about the village, leaving, possibly getting Brahms out of the house.
That didn't matter to him, nothing I wanted truly mattered to him. At least, that's how I felt.
He didn't forget about me however.
Each day, there would be a tray of food just outside my door. I wouldn't touch it.
It's been a week.
I haven't eaten a thing.
The bruises have now faded to faint yellow marks on my arms and face. My neck still carried small marks, but the outside of me didn't matter much when my insides still bore the anger he carried that night like a scarlet letter.
I glanced at my bedroom door. It was locked. I had locked it after I was able to leave the bathroom. There was one door however that I purposely kept unlocked. The one in the closet. The one that led straight to the heart of it all.
Whether I wanted to admit it or not, it was unlocked for him. Whenever he wanted to access me, he could; but he never did.
It made me wonder if he cared at all. It made me wonder if I was just a toy to him. A plaything that made him feel superior for once in 20 years.
My stomach practically howled as I sat against the wall staring at the closet door.
It made me think.
He let go of his pride to bring food, I was only harming myself by not eating it.
This didn't mean that I forgive him, but it did mean that I was famished.
I crawled across the floor with as much strength as I could muster, and grabbed the key that had been hiding underneath the dresser. I sat on my knees, and poked the key inside of the lock before rotating it counter clockwise and turning the knob.
The door omitted a loud creak, before ultimately falling silent as I released my hold of the knob and pulled the tray through the doorway.
I quickly shut the door behind me, and stared at the contents on the tray.
A glass of water, a cup of tea, an egg and a slice of buttered toast all sat neatly placed on the decorative tray before me.
My stomach couldn't help but release it's butterflies at the gesture. How many days had he been leaving meals pertaining to the time of day outside of my door?
I wasted no time in eating everything. It was cold, but it was the best food I had tasted in a while. Mainly due to the fact that it was the only food I had consumed in nearly seven days.
After I was finished, I crawled back into bed, and tried to sleep off my sudden stomach pains from devouring the food I was left.
The room was dark. Void, more like. The air felt ten degrees colder than usual. I sat up. Every window in my room was open causing the curtains to flow like ghosts with the breeze. Where's Brahms?
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and shivered once my feet touched the frozen wood beneath me. The room was vacant of every piece of furniture aside from my bed. Worried, I began to run. I felt the darkness begin to follow me as I rushed through the halls and down the staircase. It swallowed everything in its path, and I was next.
The only noise I could hear were those of my screams as I felt that sickening darkness begin to inch it's way up my legs like spindly fingers weaving a cloth.
"Brahms! Help! Please!" I begged as I ran.
But he was no where, I was utterly alone, forever doomed to be engulfed in my darkness.
I awoke in a puddle of sweat.
I wiped my eyes, and sat up gasping for air as if I couldn't quite swallow enough in time.
The same nightmare for three nights now. I didn't know how else to cope aside from staying up as late as I could before I succumbed to the sleeping torment.
I got up, finding myself with a little additional strength now that I had finally eaten something.
That's when I saw him.
Standing just outside the closet. His hair was almost matted together from days of neglect. His eyes bore dark circles that rimmed to his cheek bones. His clothes were wrinkled and his feet were bare.
His disheveled appearance, as alarming as it would be to most, had no outward reaction from me. I was too stunned to move.
It wasn't until he tried to walk towards me that I broke my trance and scrambled back over the bed to the other side.
My breathing was still heavy, but my eyes went unblinking.
"Kátalin?" He spoke. His voice cracked like it had just hatched and had never been used before.
I coward into myself. I couldn't take another blow up.
"I'm sorry."
That was a phrase I rarely heard from him.
He continued to step closer and closer which caused me to back into the headboard further and further.
As he knelt on the bed only an arms length away, I closed my eyes allowing the fresh tears who had been waiting to fall, slide down my cheeks.
Sorry wasn't good enough. He had put his hands on me. Violently.
He lifted his thumb to catch them, but I flinched.
His eyes wept the sorrow I felt. But I was too scared to let him touch me.
He stayed in that position for a long time before finally dragging his knuckles gently across my cheeks to catch the stray tears that had fallen.
I flinched once more, but I was already as far back as I could go against the headboard.
I was now at his mercy.
He was silent, only my heavy breathing could be heard throughout the room.
My eyes darted to the door and back to him, escape was slim, but not entirely zero.
He noticed where my eyes were looking, and shifted on the bed to block my view of the door.
"I didn't want to hurt you, I- I couldn't take the thought that you'd leave me."
I could hear the pain in his voice, but he still had no right to act the way that he had.
"I wasn't going to," I whispered in slight defense. My voice was shaky, ready to break at any moment.
Without warning, he gently grabbed my face in his hands and pressed small kisses on my forehead and cheeks. At first I remained cold as stone, but after each intricate kiss, I slowly began to melt away and deteriorate my hard edge. He did things to me. Even when I was angry and even when I was scared, I couldn't stay that way for long.
Was it my fault? Was I allowing him to get away with being so aggressive with me just a week before?
Getting closer and closer to the corners of my mouth, Brahms began to rub tiny gentle circles against my cheeks. He had never been so tender towards me, was he actually remorseful?
I closed my eyes. Tears were still trailing, but they had steadied by then.
After some time of his light kisses on my cheeks, he broke his contact and looked at me. His eyes grazed over my entire face, hoping for some hint of forgiveness on my features.
I found myself wishing to escape the inner turmoil and darkness I felt so greatly, that I broke out of his grasp and buried myself into his chest.
His reaction was almost instantaneous. He pulled me as close as he could, wrapping his arms around my shaking frame and placing his chin on my head.
I was wrong to let him in so quickly, but he had been the only person to "care" for me since my mother all those years ago. Controlling and domineering as he was, he still wanted me, and at that point I just needed someone to hold me close to them.
Brahms ran his fingers through my hair, and down my back. His touches felt good. So good.
Maybe I was vulnerable, or maybe I did forgive him. All I knew was, that in that moment, I wanted him there and wanted to forget about the rest.
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Man it's been a while lmfaoooo but anyway here's a shorter update. Not as long as I'd like and it's pretty much unedited. I've been at university for quiet a while and haven't gotten to actually sit down and write for you in what feels like forever.
I am in no way trying to romanticize abuse. Brahms and Kátalin are both very broken inside and out. It takes growth, and change for a couple to be healthy and that's my plan in the chapters going forward.
There will not be any more chapters like the previous few. Brahms deserves a story where he isn't just the bad guy. I have faith in him.
Like always, thank you so much for reading this hot mess of a story. I appreciate each and every little comment from you guys it truly makes my day. 💗
- Ri