Brahms had woken up at the crack of dawn as usual. He has prepared breakfast for you but, the clock is ticking. He doubts that you will be able to get up to eat it knowing he had exhausted you the night before.

Brahms, feeling a bit of remorse, decides to check up on you. He enters the room, barely lit as the curtains largely obscure the rays of sunlight. When he sees you laying on the bed still asleep, his heart stops beating for a few seconds. You lay on your stomach with the sheets sensually wrapped around your hips, hugging your shape beautifully. The lines of your back are totally exposed to him... He takes a moment to admire you, wondering how he had managed to have such a beautiful woman like you in his life.

When he approaches the bed slowly, he doesn't take his eyes off you for a second, watching the movement of your back with each breath. He sits on your side of the bed, his hand gently brushing the soft, warm skin of your lower back before moving up the line of your spine. He inhales sharply through his nose as he bends down to place his "lips" on your back, slowly working his way up until he reaches your shoulder blades which — cause you to toss and turn in your sleep.

That's when Brahms locks you in his arms, placing a hand on the mattress on either side of your shoulders. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and whispers sensually to you, " Honey, it's time to get up."

" Hmm."

" Wake up, my love."

Scrunching your nose, you turn your face closer into your pillow, hoping not to lose the comfort it was giving you. Sleep is still pulling you down, threatening to crash into you but — with Brahms here now, he makes it harder for you to fall back into a slumber. You can feel him playing with your hair, brushing a strand out of your face and tucking it behind your ear.

" Your breakfast is going to go cold," he says, softly.

You wipe your tired eyes and look up at Brahms as he hovers over you. His face so close it was the only thing in your view. You place your arms around Brahms, pulling him in for a hug. His body clashes down onto yours and you can feel his bare skin.

" Brahms, have you not gotten dressed yet?"

" Hm?" He hums, pulling away from the hug to stand so you can see him fully.

He's shirtless and only wearing what appears to be the same black slacks from yesterday. You assume that Brahms didn't have time to shower or fully dress himself that morning because he wanted to make sure breakfast was ready for you before you woke up.

" Let's go," he says, " There's a full English breakfast waiting for you downstairs."

" Thank you, Brahmsie," you smile, " I'll join you after I take a quick shower."

As you sit up from the bed, you feel an immediate pain coming from your crotch. You wince and place a hand over the part of the blanket that was covering your lower region.

" What's wrong?" Brahms asks, worriedly.

" My body is still a little sore..." you tell him.

Though worried at first, a smile creeps up on his face underneath his mask while recalling the events of the previous night. The image of you beneath him, moaning his name after each thrust arouses him again.

" I hope you can still walk," he says.

" So you don't have to carry me everywhere?"

He shakes his head, " So we can go at it again until you can't."

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Scooting towards the edge of the bed, you ask, " Can you pass me my robe?"

Brahms nods and retrieves it from your closet. You stretch your arms out so he can help you put it on. The belt, which was used as a blindfold the other night, is on the ground beside him. He picks it up and ties it around your waist.

For your sake, you hope your legs give out because if Brahms sees that you can still walk, he is there — ready and willing to ruin you some more.

You slide off the bed, holding onto Brahms as you try to stand yourself up. Once you are somewhat stable, you attempt to walk and like a baby taking their first steps, you manage to get about a few feet before your legs give out and you collapse into Brahms' chest.

Your head quickly turns to look up at him as you hear him suppress a laugh, " Are you proud of yourself?" you scoff, " You know this means you'll have to carry me everywhere, right?"

Brahms nods, lifting you up effortlessly in his arms.

He shuffles towards the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet so you can brush your teeth as he gets your bath ready. When he helps you get into the tub, you tell Brahms he can go now but, he insists on staying.

" I can take it from here," you state.

Brahms shakes his head, " Let me help you," he says, kneeling beside the bathtub. He cups the water using his hands and pours it over your body.

" It's ok, Brahmsie... I don't—."

You aren't able to finish your sentence as Brahms silences you with a splash of water to the face.

It drips down from your chin as your mouth falls open in disbelief.

You squint your eyes angrily at Brahms who, although can sense your stare, chooses to ignore it.

" I wasn't asking," he retorts, continuing to wash your body.

" Fine," you let out a defeated sigh, " But, no more splashing."

He nods, moving the wet strands of hair that fell to the front of your face. As he reaches over you to get a bar of soap, you decide to get back at him.

As you're scooping the bath water into your arms, Brahms catches you in the act. He tilts his head, eyes squinting at you. With a devious smirk on your face, you continue gathering as much water as you can. Brahms, putting two and two together, tries backing away.

Quickly, before he could get too far away, you throw it at him. You only manage to get his hair wet as most of it lands on the floor. Adding a little dampness to his hair wasn't enough for you though. You decide to splash him a second time and, since he wasn't expecting it, he didn't have a chance to dodge. You let out a mischievous laugh as the water gets all over his bare torso and on his pants.

" I thought you said no more splashing," he groans, whipping his soaking wet hair from his face.

" Yes, I meant that for you. Not for me," you specify.

He sighs in irritation. Water is everywhere and he's going to have to clean it.

" Hey, you started it," you say, " And, now that you're all wet — you can get in here and join me... You need a bath too anyways, stinky."

Brahms glares at you knowing he can't say no to that offer. He immediately undresses himself, sitting himself behind you. The tub is barely big enough for the two of you as your back and ass has to be pressed against Brahms just so he can fit.

He continues washing your body, ignoring the squeaks you make when his hands clean around your privates.

When you've both finished bathing, Brahms ties a towel around his waist and then wraps one around you. He seats you back on the bed to pick out your clothing for the day. Rummaging through your things, he pulls out a pair of black sweatpants and a baggy oversized graphic tee. You nod, pleased and appreciative that he chose a comfortable outfit. After you both get dressed, you finally have your breakfast.

Since there isn't much you can do in your current condition, you and Brahms spend the rest of the day hanging out in the library.

When nighttime comes around, you decide to take a break. Putting your book down for a little, you glance out the window beside you. The sky is darker than usual from the large clouds rolling in; a reliable sign that rain or thunderstorms are ahead. Amidst the grey fog, you see a faint light peeking out through the front gates. Wondering what it could be, you call Brahms over.

" Headlights?" You wonder, " Why would a car be pulling into the driveway at this time?"

" I don't know..." Brahms answers, " ...I should check it out."

" No," you stop him in his tracks, " It's too dangerous... And look," you point outside, " They're leaving anyways."

You and Brahms watch as the headlights fade out into the distance.

" Maybe they got lost and turned into the wrong street?" You try and come up with an explanation," A storms coming through you know, can't see much outside..."

Brahms shakes his head, still uneasy that someone could be lurking around out there.

" C'mon, let's go to bed early tonight," you suggest, lifting your arms up so he could carry you.

Brahms takes one last glance out the window before taking you in his arms. As you both make it upstairs, he doesn't leave your side.

" Sleeping up here with me again?" You ask.

He nods, " I'm not leaving you here to sleep by yourself tonight."

" Fine by me," you say, sliding over in the bed to make room for him.

Brahms cuddles you in his arms as the storm begins. The lightning, thunder, loud rain, and hard winds causes you to flinch every now and then. Brahms reminds you that you're safe with a squeeze around your body that gets tighter each time. Throughout the night and until you fell asleep, he kept saying things to help calm you down.

" Focus on the sound of my heart," he mutters

sleepily, " And my voice."

Ba-dum... Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

" I won't let anything happen you," he whispers, I promise."

Ba-dum... Ba-dum... Ba-dum.

At this point, you had already drifted to sleep. Brahms though, keeps going. Stopping after he gets this one last line out to you.

" I promise to protect you... From everything and everyone," He lifts his mask up slightly, revealing only his mouth, " Even if it costs me my life." He finishes, planting a long and gentle kiss atop your forehead.