It was late evening in London. The Phantomhive family was in town for the Season, and within the confines of their London home, a man in stood in the middle of the second floor hall in front of his son's bedroom.
Knock Knock
"Ciel? Ciel?"
Knock Knock
"Son? I know you're in there because you locked the door."
After more insistent knocking, a defiant little voice rang out from within the room.
"Go away."
"Ciel?" The man called from infront of the door. "Your mother said you're upset with me. She said that you have been in your room for hours and she's worried. What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"'Nothing'? It has to be something if you are this upset."
"Go away."
"No, son." said the man firmly. "I want you to tell me what is bothering you. I'm your father; you can always talk to me. You know that."
There was silence on the other side of the door so the man continued, "I love you, Ciel, and if I upset you, I want to know about it. So why don't you tell me?"
"I said its nothing, daddy! Leave me alone!"
It was quiet for a few minutes, but the man soon heard sniffling and soft sobs coming from the little boy in the room.
"Ciel," said the man softly. "Ciel, son, please open the door. Let's talk about this, okay?"
The man listened quietly to his son's crying before he heard the lock click and saw the door open slightly.
"Okay, daddy."
Knock Knock Knock
"Young Master, your afternoon snack is ready." called a voice from the other side of the door breaking me out of my reverie.