AN: Hello everyone! So um, sorry for not updating? My attention's been kind of spread out through other fandoms. Blame Doctor Who. I'll try to update Hell Bound in the next month or two.
Excuses aside, consider this a sister chapter to the previous one, Knock Knock. Enjoy!


Midnight Musings

Who's There? (Pt. II)

Brahms stood with his back lightly pressed to wooden boards, eyes fixed steadily ahead.

She was right there, less than a foot away.

Reaching a hand out, he pressed it flat against the inside of the wall. If he focused, he could almost feel her body heat. Maddeningly warm and so very close...

Too close. She hadn't been meant to hear him. He should have known better.

He did know better.

The woodwork on this end of the house predated the rest, of course it would squeak.

He should never have come down here while she was still awake, not when she was still keyed up from their first real encounter the day before. She was vigilant now, expecting him. He'd have to be more careful in the future.

A light smacking sound made Brahms blink, drawing him from his thoughts.

She was leaving. He could hear her socked feet as they shuffled across the bare floor, leaving him. Brahms hesitated...

He shouldn't, he really shouldn't. But he was growing cold.

"thump"

Brahms smiled to himself as the shuffling began to move back toward him. "knock" And there she was.

Raising his hand again, he waited, letting the moment stretch...

"thump"

He didn't need to see to know she'd jumped, silly girl.

Turning to leave, he had other things to attend to, Brahms stilled when a series of very pointed knocks rang out beside him.

Surprised but pleased, he turned back, predatory smile growing larger by the minute. Silly, brave girl. So she wanted to play a game? Brahms loved games.

"Thump - thump thump - thump"

Pressing himself forward, he really believed he could feel the heat of her as she leaned in, listening. She knocked. He didn't respond, instead basking in her attentions. She was waiting for him. Her entire being, in that moment, was focused onhim. Brahms relished the feeling. She knocked again.

And again.

She'd become bold.

Now that just wouldn't do. He couldn't have her feeling too comfortable with him, not yet. She needed to learn her place first. She needed to accept him.

Brahms waited patiently for the final knock. He knew it was coming.

Ever so delicate, hesitantly, she knocked. Then softly, "Brahms?"

His Greta was calling for him.

He responded immediately.

Her shriek of surprise rang out against the force of his blow, and he pressed his hands flat to the wall, feeling the vibrations throughout. A sharp giggle broke through his lips as he listened to the sound of her retreat.

"Good one Brahms," she laughed haltingly after a moment, "you really got me there."

Got her? He shook his head, mask shifting lightly with the movement.

Oh, if only she knew how much that were true.


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