I plop myself quick on the large couch just to deal with the quick pain. I wince as I land on the couch back first. I pull my legs on it as well and just position myself. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

Suddenly, I hear a light thump on the floor to my left. I open my eyes and see Brahms standing, cradling a pillow under his arm. I look at him from head to toe. Before I could say anything, he leans down and pull me up gently as I watch him place the pillow under me. He puts the blanket over me as well, tucking me in.

"The pillow supports the spine." He says.

I nod as a response and try to smile. "The blanket is to tuck you in," he says, "Just like how you do it to me."

I feel my heart melt. "Thank you, Brahms." I feel like guilt devouring me at the very moment. I shouldn't have shouted at him.

"Brahms," I start again. Go on, say it, Julie. The guy has feelings. Say sorry. "I just...I wanna apologize for shouting at you."

He doesn't say anything,

"You know, for shouting." Still no answer,

"I really did not mean it," I add, "I just didn't want you to have a hard time. Really, this is enough help. Do you understand?"

He miraculously nods once,

I feel my lips slowly quirk up into a smile, "Good." I say.

We both are silent,

"So," I say, "Will you be fine on your own tonight? I can't really tuck you in since...since I'm already tucked in." I chuckle,

Brahms stays mute,

"You'll sleep, though, right?"

No answer,

"Great." I mutter and look away,

"I'll be fine here," I tell him, "You should go now and get some rest. You can help me again tomorrow."

He stares at me for a few seconds. What's wrong now?

"Go on, I can manage myself here." I say again, and this time he turns to walk away. Instead of ascending the stairs, he goes to the other hallway. I look away and close my eyes.

He should be sleeping now. Where the hell is he going?

I open my eyes and look at the open door to the hallway. As much as I try to look away, I can't. My eyes are glued to the open door. I wait for him to come back but my eyes are slowly giving up, feeling tired. The living room is silent but me. I can only hear my breath.

It's a new day, I managed to pull myself up off the couch unlike the last two days. I feel a little stronger now. That's a miracle for someone trying to heal themselves at home with a glass of water and painkillers. I guess I'm fine now.

I suddenly have the courage to try to twist my hips. Slowly, I reach my far right, but before I complete the twist, I feel the sting. It's still there, but I guess I could say the pain is less. My eyes suddenly glance at the wheelchair next to the couch. I frown suddenly seeing the image of my mother in her own wheelchair. Before I continue that miserable memory, I hear foot steps behind me. I turn and see Brahms.

"Good morning," I say with a faint smile. Lately-I don't know how it's possible but-I have felt a different vibe from Brahms. He seemed a little distant since two days ago. My bet is on the fact that I shouted at him. That must have made him a little upset.

I completely understand, though. I would be, too. And now, I just need to make it up to him.

"Breakfast?" I ask with a grin, and he nods.

I managed to cook eggs and bacon on the microwave. The eggs look a little beat up but they could do. Brahms did not seem to mind. I recall almost catching him without the mask when I suddenly walked in the dining area and saw that he just put it on. We stared at each other for a little while, I smiled warmly and took his plates not breaking eye contact and still smiling. I wanted him to feel comfortable around me. I want to see behind that mask so bad.

I finish cleaning the plates and as I turn around, I am startled by his presence. He's standing just a step away from me. I lightly pat my chest, trying to calm my beating heart, "Hey-you startled me." I let out a soft chuckle, "Is there something you need?'

"Wheelchair," he says,

The smile from my face disappears, "Brahms," I say and lean against the sink and cross my arms, "I told you I don't need it anymore."

"The wheelchair supports the spine." He states,

"I know but I don't need it anymore, I feel fine."

He walks away without a word. I frown at his sudden leave. Suddenly, he comes back with the wheelchair.

God, he is not letting this go, is he?

"You can sit now." He declares,

"Brahms, I am not sitting there."

Here we go again.