DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Boy! All I own is Luna, her family, and her story. This story is merely for fun and to rid myself of the nagging feeling in the back of my head.

The picture above is of Brahms, who would be 29 by this point in the story. Of course, his face is scarred due to burns as is the right side of his neck. Here's a small key to help you along with the story:

~¤•¤•¤•¤•¤~ (POV Change)

September 17, 2016

It had been everything she'd ever wanted. The house had a traditional charm, pleasing her inner Victorian romantic. When she had first come across the mansion she had been sure it would cost her a fortune, but she had been pleasantly surprised to discover that it was just within her budget. Luna was in no way rich. She was a Texas girl who had grown up in a middle class family of six, herself included, and she had been working since she had graduated high school. Finally, she had accumulated enough money to not only purchase a plane ticket to the UK but for a home as well! Her family had assisted her, especially when they learned she'd managed to snag a job at the local orphanage.

"It's perfect," she whispered, looking up at the building that she now called home. From what she knew the place was still furnished with the previous owner's belongings. Which suited her just fine since she didn't have the money to buy anything as of yet. All she had come with were her clothes, journals, books, jewelry, and precious knickknacks. Most of which had arrived a week before she did. She pushed her purse further up her shoulder and turned to face the cab driver.

"Here you are sir," she said, handing him the money required for the drive, "Would you happen to know of any nice dining establishments nearby?"

"Of course ma'am, Veronica's Cafe is not only cheap but has some great food," he told her, waving enthusiastically as he began to pull out of the property. Luna waved back before turning to make her way up the stairs and into the house. She wasn't entirely surprised that it started raining as soon as her feet touched the porch. The weather was incredibly bipolar from what her pseudo-sister had told her. Unlocking the door, she quickly stepped inside and closed it behind her to ward off the cold.

"I'm going to have to get used to that, aren't I?" she asked herself, pulling both her suitcases along as she made her way up the stairs. Luna surveyed the furniture, finding it not only tolerable but simple and tasteful. It wasn't gaudy or worn out, and she could see herself keeping most of what was there. The family's portraits, however, would have to be put into storage. She didn't have the heart to toss them out or sell them, so she would rather place them elsewhere. It was as she was passing an open doorway that she saw it. A porcelain doll with brown hair and green eyes dressed in a pristine suit sat on the bed in the room.

'What in the world is that?' she asked herself, slowly placing her stuff just outside of the room as she made her way inside. It wasn't until she was directly in front of it that she noticed the cracks on its face. Luna couldn't comprehend the sudden sorrow that overwhelmed her, as she reached up and gently caressed the porcelain face of the doll.

"You poor thing," she gasped, trailing her eyes along the doll to see if it had any other imperfections.

"Brahms..." she mumbled, tapping the paper draped on its lap with the name written in an elegant script, "Is that your name?" It seemed polite to ask even when she knew she would be given no response.

"You must have been very lonely here all by yourself," Luna sighed, picking the doll up into her arms as she sat down on the edge of the bed, "But I suppose we can both keep each other company, now can't we?" For the time being, the young woman ignored her unpacked belongings and simply held the doll to her chest. A sense of nostalgia had hit her when she'd first seen it, awakening memories of a porcelain French doll she had lost in Valle Hermoso when she had still been very young. Her heart had been broken when she couldn't find it, her first gift from her father since her mother and him had gotten back together.

"Why don't we both head to bed then, Brahms?" she asked the doll, rising from the bed and making her way to the hallway. She didn't place him down as she took hold of her bags and continued on her way. The main room was just a little ways off, and she intended to take full advantage of the balcony in the morning. Luna placed Brahms on her bed, easing him gently onto the pillows while her suitcases were left by the door.

"Excuse me for a moment," the 22 year old whispered to the doll, making her way into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. She was unaware of the eyes watching her from a slit in the wall as she disappeared behind the door.

~¤•¤•¤•¤•¤~

Change had occurred. Ever since Greta had abandoned him, left him and ran off with that man, he had to learn how to fend for himself. There was no one to read to him, to teach him, to feed him, to care for him. He had to grow up, to learn all on his own or perish. And he had. All it had taken was betrayal and heartbreak to reinvent himself. He had read everything he got his hands on, applied himself to his studies and learned what he could. It had surprised even him how easy it was to adapt when he put his mind to it.

But that hadn't been enough.

His parents were dead. He was believed to be dead. Therefore, his house was no longer his and would fall to someone else. Something which he found to be unacceptable. He had run many people off, igniting rumors around the town that the place was haunted. It suited him just fine because people stayed away.

Then she appeared.

She had been different than the others. He had listened as many had tried to buy his home, heard what they'd planned to do to it once it was within their grasp. They wanted to change it, rebuild it, demolish it, redecorate it. But she didn't.

He had watched her, had observed the light in her hazel eyes brighten the instant they lay on his home. She was mesmerized by it, utterly enchanted by it exactly the way it was. He had been pleased when she'd refused to get rid of his family's furnishings, and he could feel the stirrings of something foreign begin in his chest as he observed her that first day.

She wasn't like Greta had been. This woman was by far younger with a childlike spirit and stubborn air. She was shorter than Greta and dressed in a form fitting white sweater, high waisted black skirt, and white and brown wedges. Her brown hair had been pulled up into a messy bun with a few stray curls caressing her neck.

Her name was Luna.

He had pulled none of his tricks that day, intrigued by the young woman who seemed to be enamored with his home. Brahms couldn't begin to explain the excitement that swept through him when she announced she'd buy his home. All he could think was that she would be living with him. He refused to make the mistakes he did with Greta; he had matured in the past months and was determined to use his teachings.

And now, he watched as she made her way into the adjoining bathroom. He could follow, she would never know, but he simply waited for her to return. For the moment, he was content to sit upon the floor in the wall and read the book he had on hand. It had become a habit, to read whenever he had nothing else to do. Much had changed about Brahms and he was certain it was for the better, but he wasn't too confident that it would keep Luna by his side.

Despite their differences, would she react like Greta when she learned of his existence? Or would it be worse than he could imagine?

I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter to my newest Fanfiction!

~Nyx