Brahms Heelshier x Reader
Requested by Lost_Wonder_Of_Story
TW: SH, Knife, Blood Mentions, Depression
I'm not dead yet bitches!
The tips of your sleeves were wet. Suds and much too hot water coated your hands as you gripped a sud-covered sponge. Dirty dishes occupied your mind as you pushed back the lingering thoughts of what lay under your long-sleeved shirt. The scars and fresh wounds adorning your skin underneath. Shaky hands brushed away the grime building up on the porcelain dishes.
Light streamed through the window set above the sink. The light catches and glimmers on a few utensils that had sunk to the bottom of the murky water filling the sink.
A knife had caught your attention. The serrated blade shinning through the mountains of soap. It shimmers where it lay, your fingers itching to grasp around the blade. Thoughts of slowly dribbling blood and sharp stinging grasp your mind, playing on loop until you found yourself dropping the sponge. The tips of your digits just brush the cool metal as you reach down submerging your clothed forearm.
"[Y/n]?" Brahms's arms wrapped around your sides a chin finding home on your shoulder. You pulled your hand back in a jolt. "That's silly, why are you washing dishes with your sleeves rolled down." The masked man remarked his warm laughter making tears prick the corners of your eyes. "You're going to get wet."
Fingers tugged at your sleeves slowly rolling them up as you shook your back pressed to Brahms's chest. Stilling Brahms had pulled your sleeves up just enough to reveal the first few cuts marring your skin. "[Y/n]..." Brahms says his voice all but a whisper. Hot tears stream down your cheeks as you turn on your heels pushing your face flush to his chest. "Don't talk, please." you mumbled through shaking lips "Just stay here with me." Your words were muffled as you spoke "I just, need you to hold me, Brahmsy."
Brahms needed no persuasion to lock you in his grip. His hold wasn't necessarily rough but it wasn't exactly gentle. Brahms had you tightly locked in his arms the slight pressure put on your back from where his limbs held you reminded you he was there. There for you. The man let you sob into his chest. Your shaking shoulders and snot rubbing into the front of his shirt.
The both of you stood in front of the sink, which was now filled with cool water until your tears had dried.