Death Watch

Chapter One
Hogmanay

The snow sifted softly around them as Sebastian and Ciel trudged together through the night, the quiet of the countryside disturbed only by the sound of their boots crunching on the frozen twig and leaf-strewn ground. A nearly full moon shone down on them between wisps of clouds, lighting the way quite adequately as they made their way towards their destination. The far off sound of the train's whistle echoed in the distance as it continued on its way after leaving the station of Dunhamshire, from which they had just disembarked. Ciel wrapped his fur-lined cloak tighter around himself as the cold wind whipped through the air, clawing its way between his many layers and making him shiver despite them. Sebastian walked alongside him, carrying their satchel with just a few belongings and provisions that they would need for this assignment, which would take, he hoped, no longer than a day or two at the most to achieve.

"My lord, you appear to be quite chilled already. Should we perhaps amend our pace with a faster mode of transport?" Sebastian's smile as he said this hinted at mocking. He knew Ciel's newly expressed wishes on this topic.

As much as Ciel was not eager to get there any slower than they had to, being indeed quite cold already, he was loath to submit to Sebastian's suggestion. He had really hoped he had quite outgrown the need to be carried like a baby, whether for expedience sake or for any other reason, now that he had recently turned fifteen. His height had increased along with age, but unfortunately not more than a few inches. At five feet four, he was still a good nine inches shorter than his butler, and it seemed as though that was as tall as he was ever to get. Of course, his size was no obstacle to Sebastian's ability to carry him, being the demon he was. He shivered again. It was just so... undignified to be carried that way. But it was at least another couple of miles to the destination they were headed for, and the air of this last day of December was bitter cold...

"Very well," he acquiesced, reluctantly. Sebastian gave just the smallest of bows, and with a slight smile scooped him up off his feet. Ciel's arms automatically went around his neck as his body was brought up against his butler's chest. He immediately felt warmer, the heat radiating ever off the demon's form and seeping into his body with a welcome relief. He sighed as he relaxed into his butler's capable and preternaturally strong embrace and hardly even started when he felt him next leap into the air and spring forward in bounds that covered distances faster than any earthly being could travel. The air now rushed beside him, blasting his face with a numbing cold as they flew through the night. Indeed, it did seem to him like flying when they traveled like this, the surrounding landscape and passing objects just a blur, the ground appearing far below them except for the briefest occasional tapping down of his butler's feet before being immediately propelled back high up into the air. Ciel's lips formed a small smile, despite himself. He couldn't help but feel a measure of exhilaration as he watched the tops of trees go by, and the far off hills getting rapidly bigger as they drew nearer to their destination.

The Queen's Guard Dog's most recent task was recovering her Majesty's precious Collet necklace, so named for being crafted of no less than twenty-nine Collet diamonds. It had been stolen from the Queen's very own chambers whilst she was away visiting relatives in France. It had been a perfectly executed crime, with no witnesses, and no clues as to how it had been perpetrated, at least any that Scotland Yard had been able to uncover. Sebastian, of course, had had better luck. After a thorough investigation and inspection of the entire castle he had discovered a small ruby cuff link that no one had been able to claim ownership of, leading him to conclude and consequently confirm that the owner's identity was none other than a certain wily and dangerous high society thief, Monsieur Jacques Augustine. For quite a while now, he had been the bane and the embarrassment of the Yard as they failed in their every attempt to trap him in their nets. Sebastian's investigation had led him to conclude that he was the thief along with an accomplice of his, a certain Martin Wentworth. From all evidence, Wentworth seemed inconsequential enough as a threat; it was Augustine that they needed to be wary of. He had shown no compunctions in eliminating anyone who came between him and his targeted items of acquisition. Many a lord and occasional lady had been ruthlessly murdered for no crime other than having been unfortunate enough to unintentionally interrupt and occasionally attempt to thwart the cunning and vicious thief in the midst of his crimes.

The snow started to come down heavier now, the icy flakes darting at him like needles, stinging his skin. Ciel turned his head to bury it in the crook of Sebastian's neck, as the only solution to the surety of having his face flayed raw by the time they reached their destination. He breathed in the heavy scent of damp wool along with his butler's distinctive scent, a scent that could only be described as comforting after all this time of having depended on this person; this powerful, vicious, inscrutable, and utterly loyal being that was his to command.

They came to a sudden standstill and looking up and around he saw that they had come to a small, fairly rundown shack, standing, or rather leaning, before them. A faint yellow glow emanated from one of the windows, and just a small wisp of smoke filtered up past the crumbling chimney top. Sebastian had previously gathered information that the two felons had fled upcountry after their latest crime to this location, a small town a good two hundred miles north of London.

Peering in the window cautiously, Sebastian then leaned down to Ciel and whispered into his ear. "I see only Wentworth, and I sense no other humans in this dwelling or in the near vicinity, my lord."

"Very well. Let's pay him a visit then, shall we?" Ciel answered, with a small smile.

Wasting no more time, Sebastian kicked the door open with what seemed no more than a tap of his boot, but which served to send the door crashing to the inner wall to the left of them to land in a pile of splinters. Wentworth had been sitting with his back to the door at a small table, facing a coal stove, but sprang up and around at the sound, papers scattering from the table, dishes breaking on the floor, the oil lamp flying off and landing with a smash.

"What's going on? 'Oo are you?" he spluttered, in terror.

Ciel spoke. "Who we are is of no concern to you. We are simply here to retrieve a certain item that does not belong to you." The man backed up as Ciel and Sebastian stepped closer to him, until his back was against the wall.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about! I d'int take nothin!" he spat out. Then, seeming to get a grip on himself a little, said "You have no right t'come barging in here, breaking down my door like that! I demand that you leave at once, or I'll..." his hand went towards his side and behind him, to reach for what was no doubt a gun, but which he never got the chance to so much as touch, as he suddenly found himself being restrained with both his arms being held and twisted behind his back by Sebastian. The man let out a great yelp of pain, and after just a moment of trying to struggle to get away, sagged limply in defeat, realizing how useless it was, caught in the butler's vice-like grip.

"Tell me where the queen's necklace is," Ciel demanded, calmly and deliberately.

"I don't have it!" the man barked in an aggravated voice, wincing as Sebastian's fingers bit into his arms as they were twisted even tighter.

"Alright, let's try this," Ciel stated serenely. "Tell me where the necklace is, or I will have my servant here break your arm."

"Aaah!" Wentworth screamed in pain as the butler sharply jerked his arms once more as added emphasis to Ciel's threat.

"I don't have it! I swear, I don't!" he squealed pathetically. "He took it with 'im when 'e..." Here, the man stopped and paled, having apparently said more than he had wished to.

Ciel smile slyly at the man's slip. Walking forward, he grasped the lapel of the man's old and patched tweed jacket, and pulled his face down closer to his. "Tell me this instant who took it, and where he is." Letting him go, he then stepped back apace again, and wrinkled his nose, as the man smelled none too fresh.

Wentworth said nothing, just scowling at Ciel. Suddenly he was lifted completely off his feet and was dangling in the air by his arms, squirming and shouting. "Lemme go, lemme go! I'll tell ya, I will! Put me down, please!" Sebastian complied, carelessly releasing his grip on his arms to let the man fall to the floor in a trembling heap, afterwards relieving him of his weapon and tossing it to the side of the room. Scrambling to get up, yowling with pain and outrage, he spat, "Jacques took it. 'E took it up with him when he left, yesterday. "E's got it, not me. Now let me be!"

"And where exactly is Monsieur Augustine, then?" Ciel asked with exasperation. He could see the man beginning to look cagily at Ciel, as if he was trying to come up with a plausible answer. "The truth!" Ciel barked at him. He smiled thinly as he reached to his back and smoothly pulled out his gun, aiming it at Wentworth's head. "And quickly. I am not a patient person." Wentworth's eyes widened in surprise and fear.

"E went north, up to 'is place at Drosdale by the Sea," the thief said, looking at Ciel wide-eyed. "'Es got a nice little cottage in the center of Chesfield-real nice. Much nicer 'n the likes of me can afford." A look of jealousy ghosted over his face.

"Go on, then," Ciel said, bringing him back around to reality. He looked at Ciel darkly.

"So, yeah, thas' it. 'E left last night, and rode straight up. Last I seen of 'im," he finished.

Ciel was satisfied that that was all the man knew. He frowned, however, knowing they would have a bit more travelling to do before his job was done. He sighed. Looking down with disgust at the man kneeling splayed out on the dirty floor, a glint of something bright caught his eye. From the man's jacket pocket a chain sprouted, attached to a glittering gold pocket watch that now dangled on his knee, having fallen out in the fray. A rather expensive looking item for such a lowly crook, Ciel was thinking, and then something else caught his eye that made his blood turn cold and freeze in his veins. Engraved on the outside of the watch was none other than the finely etched insignia of the Phantomhive Crest.

Instantly, Ciel swooped down and snatched the watch away, ripping it violently right off the cheap brass chain which snapped in two, one end still attached to Wentworth's pocket, the other to the treasure now held reverently in Ciel's hand.

"Young Master?" he heard Sebastian's voice as from a far distance. Nothing seemed to be in focus around him except for the precious glinting gold object in front of him. He heard his butler speak again. "What is it?" Ciel looked up. Spearing the man on the ground before him with one piercing blue eye, he addressed him in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Tell me where you got this watch." Wentworth's eyes opened wider in consternation, and one brow rose.

"Eh? That old thing?" Ciel could tell he was preparing to lie.

"Sebastian, convince this worm here to say where he obtained this watch, and make sure it is the truth!" he hissed. Sebastian looked at him askance, but obediently grabbed the man by the front of his jacket, and slammed him into the wall.

"I believe you heard my master," he said with a smirk of pleasure. "Answer now, quickly, and with no deception on your part, or you will regret it, I promise you."

Wentworth blanched, and trembling, answered, "I got it from Jacques. Swear! I swears on me mother's grave! 'E gave it to me, as... as a payment for... for a job I did for 'im."

"A job, eh?" Ciel repeated, stroking his chin with his fingers, musing at this information. Well, they would deal with Monsieur Augustine in due time; but first, to finish with this rat.

"So, now, what to do with you, my loathsome fellow," Ciel pondered out loud, not even really caring about the man, or anything else at the moment, other than where and how this watch had been obtained by Jacques. That would have to wait, though... "This is your lucky day, wretch," Ciel said with a grin. "Your status has simply been downgraded from robber to robbee." He laughed. "You are free to go, but do not let me catch you stealing anything from anyone ever again in this lifetime, or it shall not go so lightly for you." Ciel took a step closer to him. "Now run. And don't look back. You may take with you your life, and nothing more. Sebastian," he said, turning around swiftly and striding to the door without looking back, "Burn this place down." Reaching the now door-less entryway, he stepped out into the fresh night air once more, and waited. It was only seconds later that he heard a swoosh and then the sound of roaring flames crackling in the room behind him, followed by Wentworth staggering and tripping to hurry headlong out of the house. He was followed by Sebastian striding calmly after him, who then stood with Ciel as they watched the terrified crook flee into the night.

The flames were starting to lick at the walls of the old shack as they gained momentum, greedily devouring the old, dried wood of the frame and its brittle contents. Within minutes, it had become a roaring inferno, crackling and sending sparks flying high into the air, which mingled with the now heavy snow that was falling, lighting up the surrounding area brightly with warm reddish light. Ciel looked up at Sebastian. The orange flames reflected in his eyes, accentuating their only slightly different shade. Their flickering depths seemed to magnetize him, drawing him into them, making him dizzy. Damn demon eyes, he thought to himself, hating the effect that they always had on him.

"Sebastian, let's get go..." was all he was able to get out before he found himself falling over, the world suddenly whirling crazily around him, and then everything going dark.

"My lord, are you all right? Young master, answer me," he heard a voice saying anxiously. Slowly coming around, he groggily opened his eyes to see his butler's face hovering inches away from his own, a look of deep concern on his usually smooth features. He realized he was being held upright, two strong arms supporting his weight as he stood none too steadily on his feet.

"I... I'm fine. I'm just a little tired, is all," he answered, feeling peeved and abashed at his weakness. "I can stand; let me go!" Sebastian reluctantly withdrew his arms from under him, setting him down fully on his own weight. He swayed and staggered a little but then righted himself.

"Let's go, Sebastian. We need to find Jacques."

"Master, it is late, and the snow has made following Augustine's tracks slightly difficult. Perhaps with morning, it will be easier..."

"You mean, perhaps I need to rest for night, don't you," Ciel interrupted him, irritated only because he knew the demon was right. He needed sleep. The events of this day, not least the unexpected shock of finding the watch, had taken a bigger toll on him than he had realized. "Fine; fine, let's find somewhere to rest for a while. Come morning, though, first thing, let's be off. I want to find this bastard, Jacques, and interrogate him as soon as possible." He looked up at his butler.

"Sebastian," he added. "That watch was my father's."

His butler's eyes opened wide and his face registered surprise before quickly smoothing back into an unreadable mask, saying nothing in reply.

Ciel gazed back out into the dark, shadowy fields and rolling hills which were now only barely visible in the dying flames and swirling snow. The prospect of a possible end to their journey together loomed before him, beckoning both enticingly and menacingly. He shivered.

"Come, young master, let us find shelter," his butler said, a note of concern in his voice. "There must be something..." His gaze swiveled around to come to rest on a small dilapidated old barn in the distance, behind the remains of the house. "Hmm, that will have to do, I suppose," he said, pointing it out to Ciel. Ciel just shrugged, and then nodded.

"Vey well." He didn't really care where they slept at this point; he just needed to lie down before he fell down. Sebastian retrieved the satchel of their belongings from where he had left it before they had confronted Wentworth, and the two of them plodded through the quickly accumulating blanket of snow.

Sitting inside the barn a short while later, Sebastian bowed to Ciel, where he sat on a bale of hay for a chair, in front of another bale with a pristine white cloth laid over it, which substituted as a table. A small wrought iron candle lantern sat in the middle, providing only a weak, flickering light which barely illuminated the small area that the two occupied.

"I do apologize for not being able to serve you your evening tea, young master," Sebastian smirked, as he handed Ciel a small plate of finger sandwiches and other snacks, which was the only food they had brought with them, along with a flask. Ciel smirked back.

"Well, I will expect a most extravagant feast when we get back home tomorrow, after settling the last of this bothersome business," he answered haughtily, but with a playful grin.

Why the hell did Augustine have to have his main hideout so far up north, he wondered, irritated? There was nothing but endless fields and desolate moors up here, with the feeling of being isolated from all the rest of civilization. He sighed, then took another sip of water to wash the last of the sandwiches down. Feeling better now that he had eaten, Ciel finally allowed himself to retrieve the watch once more from his jacket pocket where he had placed it, and ponder its implications.

The gold was tarnished, the etching faded, but the hefty object was still quite beautiful, being of the highest quality workmanship, with his family's crest still visible in its fine, deep etching. However tenuous the possibility, he couldn't help but feel that this watch would eventually lead them to the answers he craved. The need to find his parents' murderers and the ones responsible for his month of torment was as a hot coal still, burning bright in his heart. He would never give up his quest for revenge until he triumphed; just like any other game he played, the need to win outweighed even the enjoyment of the game itself, which was itself considerable. The price of winning this game, however, was a heavy one; no less than the sacrificing not only of his life, but of his very soul. The demon had served him faithfully and well over the years as his butler and champion in his quest, and would have his due reward when the objective was finally achieved and Ciel's soul was his to devour. It was something the young boy had willingly agreed to, and had never once regretted.

He opened the watch, wondering how accurately it still kept time. Three minutes to midnight, it read. "Sebastian, what time does your watch say?"

Sebastian took his own watch out of his pocket and flipped it open. "It is exactly eleven fifty-seven, my lord." He looked at Ciel, and smiled at him. "It is almost the New Year."

Ciel had all but forgotten what day it was. The passing of the years, just as the passing of days, left no real impression on him; it was all just borrowed time, anyway. "So it is. Hogmanay, as the Queen is so fond of calling it lately. Well," he looked thoughtfully at the watch, and smirked. "As such, I do believe it is the custom on this day to reward one's loyal servants, is it not?"

So saying, he reached out, holding the gold watch up to Sebastian where he stood before him. "Here. Please take it, as a token of my gratitude for your dedication and excellence in serving me so well up to this time."

Sebastian opened his eyes wide. "My lord?" He looked at Ciel quizzically, one brow raised in surprise, his eyes glittering in the dim lamp light. Ciel didn't reply, just continued to hold out the watch, smiling. Slowly, the butler's gloved hand came out to grasp the watch, and hold it in his palm with reverence. He bowed his head, closing his eyes.

"Your most humble servant thanks you profusely for such a precious gift." Raising his head a bit and tilting his head, his eyes opened, glinting at Ciel as he peered at him, his mouth twitching up in just the ghost of a smile. Ciel scowled back at him. Sebastian continued, reaching into his pocket and holding out his hand after unfastening the chain.

"I will give you this one back, then, as I don't need two. It is time you had a watch, in any case."

Ciel shook his head and smiled, and accepted the old silver pocket watch that had ever been in the keeping of the butlers of the Phantomhives, handed down through the generations. It, too, had its own venerability, and he stowed it with care in his coat pocket.

Ciel then yawned widely. Suddenly intensely sleepy, he looked around at the sparsely stocked barn. There were a few stalls, and a stack of old, moldy hay bales, but other than that, there was naught much else besides the cold, bare, dirt floor. His feet were numb at this point, and he felt like the rest of him was nearly as frozen.

"Did you bring blankets, by any chance?" he asked, without much hope. The satchel looked woefully small.

"I am sorry, my lord, I did not," Sebastian answered. "But we can use my overcoat as well as my jacket for you to lie down on, and your cloak as a cover. It will have to do." He looked at Ciel. "Do you think you will be sufficiently warm with that?"

Ciel shook his head. Well, there really wasn't much choice. "Yes, yes; that will be fine." His eyes closed as weariness overtook him. "It will be fine."

Sebastian spread his coat on the floor, and balled up his jacket for Ciel to use as a pillow. Taking Ciel's cloak, he drew it up and over him. Ciel hugged it around himself tightly, but still shivered underneath it.

"My lord, if it is not too much of an impropriety, may I be so bold as to suggest that I lay down beside you, as the heat from my body even at that distance will serve to provide you with at least a little extra warmth. I do not want my young master freezing to death, nor catching a cold." He grinned down at him. "You know how much you dislike my coddling when you are sick."

Ciel harrumphed. The bastard was toying with him. He had never tried that little act with him ever again after that one time; he knew better. But his suggestion seemed like a good one; he was so cold at this point that he would have probably agreed to the proposition even if Sebastian were a giant cat. He both smiled and shuddered at the thought. Sebastian looked at him questioningly.

"Fine," he said. The demon then proceeded to fold and lower his sinewy body to lie down next to him. Ciel immediately felt his a little of his warmth creeping into his own body. He gave a deep sigh of relief and resignation, and felt sleep quickly overtaking him. Just before he drifted off, he heard faintly, as if from far away, the words, "Goodnight, my lord," and then nodded off completely and was asleep.

It was a few hours later that Ciel suddenly awakened in the middle of the night to find himself cozily and completely curled up fast against his butler's hard but wonderfully warm body, now protectively and almost lovingly wrapped even closer about him. It surprised him that Sebastian had allowed this; as he was sure, being a demon, that Sebastian had been wide awake the whole time and thus fully aware of this situation. He slowly, almost fearfully, opened his eyes to verify what his sense of touch told him. The first thing they saw was the fine soft twill of Sebastian's waistcoat, and then as his eyes traveled up his chest, the demon's glowing red eyes looking directly into his. His heart gave a start, in what he assumed was fear. Those eyes gleamed with what could only be labeled pure, unadulterated hunger; demonic hunger. But he didn't really feel fear. No, what he was feeling was something different. Something he didn't care to examine at this time. Instead, he covered his inner confusion with his usual way.

"So, I am what, just a delicious snack to you?" He smirked. He wasn't going to let Sebastian get away with this one. "You might as well be licking your lips, mightn't you?"

Sebastian smiled. "Heh. You got me, young master. What can I say; I am a demon, after all."

"Yes, and I mean only one thing to you; I know this. I couldn't help teasing you, though." Ciel said, with a smile, and then snuggled even closer, if that was possible, into the curve of his butler's warmth. "Well, if I'm already here, I may as well continue being warm through the night, rather than waking as an icicle." And with another small sigh followed by a few deep breaths, was almost immediately asleep once more.

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(Sebastian's point of view):

Sebastian's whole body was strung tight as a violin string, humming with the closeness of his innocent, sumptuous prey. It had been to his utmost surprise and exquisite agony when the boy had nestled up against him and then, upon waking, had curled up even closer to him before immediately going back to sleep. Desire suffused his veins, his blood surging to every part of his body, every organ, every inch of him... Yes, it was just one of the many interesting facts about demons that their anatomy when in human form was not merely human in every way, but more than human. Enhanced in strength and ability, and almost indestructible; but still human, both in form and function. Although not necessary, food could taste just as intensely flavorful to them, and other sensual acts were just as pleasurable, except multiplied tenfold, because of their enhanced senses. So, it was with an even greater shame that Sebastian endured and attempted to rein in his body's reaction in a certain area. It wasn't that he felt a true desire of that sort; not specifically, at least. It was just that his hunger for the boy-not just a hunger for his flesh, although he couldn't deny that, as inappropriate as such a desire was in terms of his chosen role as a butler for his master, nay-a hunger for his very soul, was transmitted and magnified to his every sense, both demon and human, by the boy's intense nearness.

Demons, or the Meerlia as they called themselves, had roamed the earth even before the dawn of civilization. When they had first come to this world, the creatures that now called themselves humans had been hardly more than mere animals; savages; lacking no more than the most rudimentary language skills. Other worlds that they had roamed for many a long eon had by this time become boring to some of them, and thus demons gradually started migrating to this one over time. They had started relishing in the choicest of these newly fledged souls, and the energy generated therein, filled with their yearnings and lustings and loathings, their pitiable failures and their petty triumphs. The devouring of souls filled up a deep need within them, the need to satiate their deep seated boredom, bred from near immortality and the ennui that ensued from the perpetual tedium of virtual eternity. Human souls were like no others they had ever sampled, and they hungered after them with a ravenous appetite. It all became quite a free for all of easy and delightful spoils and slaughter. Until the Soul Wars, of course... Damn Megami. They had ruined everything.

Now bound to the agreement to only devour the souls of those humans with whom they had managed to form a contract with, they stalked and watched and deceived and seduced their ever all-so-willing prey with sweet words and comely forms that they had learned to create for themselves, in the semblance of humans themselves, the easier to beguile them by. It was tedious and time consuming, but the Meerlia were forced to abide by it if they wanted to continue to sup on the tasty human souls. And they did. The trouble they had to go to was worth it. In fact, it actually made the reward simply that much greater, he felt. He looked down at his latest choice morsel, the slow cooked, lovingly prepped meal in the making that it was. Ah! How deliriously, supremely pleasurable it would be, come the time to take it... true ecstasy. It would be the highlight of his long, long, very long, and now dull and interminable life. He sighed.

Sebastian gazed down at the fragile creature nestled against his chest. Brushing the still baby-fine, thick dark locks of hair away from his face, carefully so as not to wake him, he smiled at the sight. The boy's precious form housed an even more precious treasure, but the form itself was indeed quite beautiful as well, with that perfect little infinitesimally-upturned nose, and those soft, still somewhat-rounded cheeks, and that sweet little mouth and chin, although both now slightly matured in shape and size... and he was his to someday know completely the true and sublime flavor of. His mouth watered at the thought of the taste and the aftertaste; the reverberations through his own soul, that lingered on for decades, sometimes for centuries afterwards, if the soul was of high enough quality; as he was sure this one would be. So fragile, so vulnerable, so luscious... He shook that last thought from his mind; the last thing he needed was to be focused on how tempting the boy was, curled so closely to his own famished physique, and remembered another time he had held him, not too long ago by his reckoning…

It had been after having rescued him, Ciel having once more gotten himself captured, as was his wont. Sebastian had taunted him in his helpless state, all trussed up by his now vanquished enemies, and after having freed him from his bonds, had carried him outside, placing him on the ground to walk the rest of his way himself, once they had gotten safely away from the area. But apparently he had underestimated the extent of his master's injuries, and realized he must have been much more battered than he had thought, as Ciel swayed on his feet, and then neatly collapsed into his naturally at-the-ready butler's arms. Gently running his fingers down his master's face, he turned it up so he could examine him better. His saw that his cheek was badly bruised, his upper lip still slightly bleeding… The blood dripped, just a tiny trickle, the droplet running from the upturned lip down to the corner of his mouth. He had found himself fixated on that lip, slowly drawn to it against his will. Slowly, slowly; closer; he couldn't stop himself. He gently traced the line of his upper lip with his tongue; then drawing it in his mouth, had sucked on it ever so slightly before releasing it; just a small, subtle taste. He jerked back in alarm, appalled at himself for what he has just done.

And yet, exhilarated. The taste… that most exquisitely delicious taste of Ciel's blood… So pure, so undiluted, so teeming with strength of will and clear purpose, pungently spiced with the urge to deal death, to destroy, to utterly defeat his enemies… And yet, at the same time so innocent, so young, so sweet-natured beneath it all, right down to the very core. How was such a being like this even possible, he wondered? Rooted to the spot as if a statue, it was many moments before he shook himself from his trance to walk on, Ciel's still-unconscious form in his arms, continuing home, his head hung in shame the rest of the way. Ashamed of having violated the butler ethic, of having acted in a way that was improper for such a role that he had willingly taken on as per the contract; ashamed of himself for having such a weakness for his prey, he had resolved never to do anything like that ever again. But the hunger was so strong; and it had been so very, very long…

And now again here he was, as against his will he was once more drawn to Ciel's beautiful lips, still with a baby-softness to them, but with a now slightly refined line to them. He slowly closed the distance between his head and the boy's, and tilting his head slightly, brought his lips within millimeters of Ciel's, running over, but not actually touching, them. The static charge between them however was a tangible thing to him, running like electricity through his veins. Shocked by his own actions, he quickly pulled away, hoping he hadn't woken the boy. Ciel moaned just a little and murmured some unintelligible words, but remained safely asleep. Sebastian sighed with relief.

Ahh, would his longing never cease to tempt him so irresistibly? He eased his conscience with the knowledge that at least Ciel had been safely unconscious both times, and thus would never know. What was it about this one individual that tempted him so fiercely? He had known many a human before in his long, long lifetime, but never before had he known a soul like this one. So helpless and small, yet teeming with inner strength and boundless greed, he was a smorgasbord of contradictions; a delectable feast of paradoxical delight. A soul that had faced desecration; desolation; utter loss, and yet bared and gnashed it's teeth and fought though that pain, to emerge triumphant in rage and burning desire for revenge for naught but his own sake. The boy tantalized him; mesmerized him; intoxicated him with his very presence. Yet come the day of reckoning, both despite and because of this, he would most certainly devour him.