A/N: I'm branching out more…. First kuroshitsugi fic, so I hope I do well. Let's see how angsty Ciel can become… *laughs*
There is nothing in this fic- other than my demented humor, and sexy writing style- that belongs to me. So enjoy
Death. The only way to describe the events of his tortured life. His family, friends, enemies, acquaintances- so much death, so much destruction. Angela and her fire, then Claude and Hanna with their mind games and tugging.
Ciel smiled. It was a small, delicate, warm smile- but its joyful glow didn't reach his royal blue eyes. He didn't truly remember how to smile sincerely, but now he wouldn't need to. Ever again. Never would he need to farce enjoyment around other nobles, or take orders from the queen. He plucked an ethereal white flower from the shadow of grass beneath it and cast it aside, watching the pale petal dance and sway as they fell spiraling through the breeze. Yes a macabre dance of swirls, just like the feelings inside of him. He had so much more time on his hands. No duties. No sleep. No ridiculous cares, no troublesome memories of his past. His parents fate was nothing now. He wondered if it had anything to do with what he'd become. This time, his smile reached his eyes- but it was cold. More a smirk than a smile in truth. His eyes gleamed demonic ruby, and a maniacal aura floated around his small form. His short blackish hair fell in thin tendrils that framed his eternally round, childish face.
A knock sounded at the intricately carved cedar wood pole next to the arching entryway of the silvery gazebo he was sprawled inside of. He glanced up to see Sebastian's eyes, their demonic glow always visible anymore; the gleaming of demented pride matched his protective smirk. One thing still remained of their former relationship before Ciel lost all possibility of death, or of allowing the older demon to devour his very life. Sebastian was still very protective of his bochan. Massively so. Anyone who even upset the boy was ripped to shreds, immaculately as always. Never a spec of blood on that pristine butler uniform, white gloves always removed before the mutilation occurred. Food was never a necessity anymore, and Ciel had noticed Sebastian's clothing choices for him each morning since he'd turned involved no color, and no white. It made sense, he guessed. Maybe demons only wore black. Even Sebastian's white undershirt had been replaced upon entering hell. Only the gloves remained.
At least, for all the annoying and complicated trouble he caused, and his bothersome habits, Claude's meddling brought something good. Worthless sop that he was, if Alois appeared again, or Hannah, I would have to thank them both, Ciel thought with a smile. After all he mused they did save my life. And I get to torment Sebastian for eternity. His bemused laughter filled the freezing air, and in a flash of the deepest ebony pitch, Sebastian swept him off with a familiar smirk gracing his lips.