Author's note :: A story in four chapters! Definitely under 20k at finish. =)

I apologize for not updating my other fanfic, I am currently in the process of getting over my OC-ness and rewriting half of it (by half, I meant those three chapters and those not posted yet).

Also, I hope that this chapter paced well enough not to bore you before reaching halfway through the chapter! Pacing is such a problem for me . Although I do, with all my heart and soul can afford, do promise that there shall be SebbyxGrell lemon. Sometime very, very soon. ~w~ I suck at first chapters, so please read on? It'll get better. :3

Disclaimer :: I wish I had Yana's genius but no I don't. I don't own Kuroshitsuji.


Chapter One
Wavelengths of Ire

Elizabeth Midford stared blankly at the wall, her emerald eyes devoid of its usual cheer, with her lips pressed into a grim line. A bandage was wrapped around her head, her wavy blonde tresses cascading lightly upon her small back. Only dry tears trailed down on her pale cheeks, for the lack of real ones to fall. She did not make any motion as her fiancée pulled her into an embrace, nor did his words get to her heart as it merely travelled from ear to ear. She should be happy of the empathy Ciel was showing, but her own affairs led her heart to emptiness— to nothingness.

She was aware of the butler's presence, of his impatience as he stood by the doorway like a mere spectator, waiting for the time his master finally breaks away from Elizabeth— his master who never had the willingness to do so, until he was gently reprimanded by the nurses, and until Sebastian forcibly took him out.


Ciel Phantomhive tossed and turned under his warm sheets, almost as though he was physically battered by the same harsh rain that hammered upon his manor's windows. There was nothing but darkness as he opened his eyes, but he could not help but to see Elizabeth's crestfallen image wherever he looked—it haunted him, as though her face was embedded in each and every thing he set his eyes upon. For a while, he pulled the sheets closer to his body, feeling the nasty chill of the evening rain setting upon him.

It had been eight long years since his family was annihilated by an unknown group of offenders, and in those long years, he dirtied his hands as the Queen's Watchdog, as expected of the Earl of Phantomhive. He lived only for the sole purpose of catching the perpetrator, wallowing in his anger and revenge, and thoroughly despondent of affairs not contributing to his goals.

He spent those eight long years in childish apathy.

And in those eight long years, Elizabeth has devoted herself into opening his heart to her—to make him smile.

Eight years of fruitless effort… for both of them.

And now that they shared that common experience, would it be his turn to arduously spend his days trying to make his fiancée smile?

Sighing with utter vexation, the young man unwound the sheets from himself and darted out of the room with a grunt, leaving the bed unmade like he usually would. Still in his pajamas, the dark-haired adolescent made his way to the study room, fumbling through the darkness with the light afforded to him by the flecks of moonlight shining from the gap between the curtains, and collapsed his body upon the cushioned seat.

"Sebastian!" he called out as he buried his face on his hands.

"Yes, my Lord?" the black butler promptly entered the room, holding a candelabrum with his gloved hands, casting a faint glow upon his features. His ebony tresses were combed to the back, with two fringes of hair framing both sides of his face. Had Frances been there, she would have been quick to grab those 'ghastly fringes' upon her fingers, reprimanding the butler of his lack of proper grooming. But that familiar voice was now a thing of the past, buried into the distant recesses of the butler's memory.

"Bring me some hot milk with honey," Ciel spoke without its usual arrogance, rubbing his face with his hands as he sighed.

A puzzled look crossed upon Sebastian's face as the command was given, but was quickly dispelled as he placed the candelabrum on the table and bowed at his master, a single hand placed on his chest. "As you wish." He walked out, unfazed by the darkness that awaited beyond the door.

Soon, the young earl was left to his thoughts once more. "Elizabeth…" he spoke through his gritted teeth, strands of his dark tresses trapped between his clenched fingers. His heavy breathing was audible against the silence of the night. Then his eyes widened.

What if the culprit of my parents' death suddenly appears? The thought suddenly crossed his mind. That means I will have to give my soul to Sebastian!

Why was he faltering? The day before this, he was firm and resolute on his decision. He would command the demon to his heart's content until they could settle the terms of their contract. Slowly, he closed his eyes once more and bit his lip.

No, I don't want it to happen… not right now, please… Ciel pleadingly thought, as though beseeching a supreme being to take pity upon his damned soul. A roar of thunder struck from the skies outside his window—as if it was heaven's defiant no to the boy's appeal. I don't want to die yet…

As if on cue, the black butler entered the dark room, pushing a silver tray towards the table, containing the items Ciel had requested.

This should be a familiar feeling, with Sebastian walking in with his food. But tonight, Ciel's hair stood on end, his being slightly terrified by the presence of the butler, whose sinister intents were hidden beneath an amiable smile. Ciel's thoughts were treacherous, and if the demon were to know it, his imagination could only offer so much into the things Sebastian could possibly do out of wrath. Tear him to pieces? Skin him bare? Throw him to a furnace? The thoughts petrified him tremendously.

With smooth moves, the butler poured some heated milk into the pristine white cup, allowing wisps of heat to waft around the nippy air.

"Is there something troubling you, my Lord?" the butler spoke, tearing through Ciel's thoughts, causing the latter to look up, eyes betraying the feelings he failed to articulate.

"Nothing of your concern, Sebastian," the young earl simply replied, breaking his cerulean gaze and on to the milk, perhaps slightly aware of the disconcerted expression his delicate eyes donned.

The butler's eyes narrowed as the earl reached for his cup and lifted it to his lips. "By chance… could this be about Lady Elizabeth?"

Ciel did not speak, but seeing as he almost choked on his milk, Sebastian need not to ask more. Begrudgingly, the young man glared at the butler, wiping the milk off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Just… just get out!" Ciel spat at the butler, slamming the cup of milk back on its saucer, almost breaking the fragile object.

With a suspicious squint at the human, the butler stood for a while before cleaning up and responding, "As you wish."


Ciel Phantomhive did not want to see his face. He was nowhere the be found during his usual waking time, with only a simple note left right at the very centre of the bed's mess.

Don't show yourself to me until I call for you. Prepare what

you need to, but make sure to never cross my line of sight.

Dutifully, as expected of the Phantomhive butler, he made the bed, prepared his clothes, prepared the food and tea, and made sure that everything was convenient for his young master.

Dutifully, he kept himself away from his master, though perpetually watching from a crow's eye view. From the gap between the curtains, the black butler watched as the young earl escorted Elizabeth to the Phantomhive household, declaring that the only remaining Midford is mentally and emotionally incapable of managing the household (or whatever actually remained from it). From that distance, he had to begrudgingly serve both of them, never to appear in neither's line of sight, as his lovely master commanded.

He simply watched as his master drifted away from him. Ciel smiled more. He became more empathic. And despite the lack of enthusiastic response, he kept on getting out of his way just to make sure that Elizabeth lives on a dream-like paradise—happy, safe, protected— loved. This was perhaps Elizabeth's ultimate dream, way back during the days when she had a family to compensate for the happiness and love that she lacked to receive from her fiancée. Ciel became more patient. He became considerate and amiable. He was not as irritable of the three idiotic servants whenever they did a fiasco, as long as it did not harm Elizabeth. Ciel's world revolved around Elizabeth, to the point that he paid incredibly less attention on the Funtom Company, and much less enthusiasm (if there was ever any) to complete the Queen's requests.

Sebastian Michaelis does not know this shell of a being named Ciel Phantomhive, a man reminiscent of a young child he used to protect with his whole being. He is not interested in this soul, who clung to his soul more desperately than a crab willing to pull down one of his own for his personal gain. By hook or by crook, this boy wills to keep his soul… all for the sake of that woman.

And the demon does not have a thread of desire to covet that piteous soul. It was so laughably disgusting, that even Sebastian questioned how he came to fancy this one.

The house had stilled, and the silvery light of the full moon was upon them.

A shining silvery light, and the tall silhouette of a man walking out of the gates.


"Sebastian, come!"

"Sebastian!"

"Sebastian, I'm calling for you!"

"Sebastian, this is an order! Come here at once!"

The earl's voice hammered on his head, and the demon merely groaned in vexation, rubbing his temples as he rolled his eyes. This boy, does he ever shut up? Was it so hard to find that no breakfast had been served for the day? How important was a morning tea, to have desperately called back his butler when it was amiss?

Sebastian would have smirked in amusement as he felt the boy's despair. He had been out of the estate for a few hours and he had already been dearly missed? Oh my. What a pretty attentive master he was.

Not!

"Seriously, how do you manage to live through nine lives coveted by these creatures? I cannot even begin to imagine," the raven-haired demon spoke as he settled the cup of milk down on his table for his furry comrade. Ah, the demon didn't fancy the place as much as he fancied home and the fine living of Europe, but there were demonically amusing affairs to beheld, a lot of cats and a lot of milk in this place. For now, America might be an acceptable place to stay.

"SEBASTIAAAAAAAAAAN!" The words rung in his ears, definitely not the last he would hear of the Phantomhive brat. The contract seal was a bother, troubling him all the way here.

I should get rid of it soon, he thought, slightly glancing at the pentagram at the back of his hand and examined it, as though scrutinizing and old nail polish that screamed only to get removed.

With a sigh, Sebastian settled his chin on his palm and stroked the calico cat's silky white fur with his other finger. Looking up, the furry animal purred lovingly at Sebastian, rubbing its face closer to the man's hand as its tail swayed graciously with its movements.

The gesture brought an amiable smile on the man's face, a bit exhausted, but amiable nonetheless. "What would I do without you?"