Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler or any related characters.

I'm kind of stepping out of my fandom here with this story, but I so quickly got sucked into Kuroshitsuji I couldn't help but write a fiction for it. That, and I hate the second season ending with such passion that I have to put my silly little spin on it. But who knows, maybe people will read this and actually like it? If so and if not, please feel free to drop any kind of review.

Earl Ciel Phantomhive. I knew I wanted you more than anything else I had ever desired when you first summoned me. A mere ten-year-old child, beaten, used, humiliated, but not broken. Your debasement at the hands of those people steeped you in the powerful essence of darkness, but it never infused you. How could a creature so young, so fragile, so pure, look me in the eye and order me to kill a room full of people with such resolve? You afforded yourself not even a moment of hesitation, not a second to reconsider.

When you issued to me my first order... I fell...

"Sebastian, will you hurry and find me something to eat?"

"Yes, my lord."

What manner of ideas am I thinking? The notion itself is abhorrent to our kind. We are all hatred and indulgence and greed. Any trace of sentimentality, once detected, is grounds for universal ridicule and is a white flag signaling weakness.

Yet, even now as I carry your light, indifferent frame across the slums in search of a dying soul, I cannot deny the existence of these feelings. Yes, Ciel Phantomhive, I fell in love.

As you issued my first order to kill, I fell in love with your aesthetics.

A tug on my jacket pocket and the soft call of my given name alerted me. The young master pointed at a high apartment window.

"In there."

"Indeed."

I leaped up window sills and barely-attached shutters to the exposed room. A pregnant peasant woman lay still on the floor and a little girl clung to her mother's arm. I allowed Ciel to walk and he approached the two.

"Is this honestly what I must settle for?"

"I'm afraid I must look after your safety before anything else, Young Master. This is where you will be safest from grim reapers."

Ciel stared at the pair coldly. "The woman and baby are dead, and this girl's soul might as well be."

She seemed to hear his comment and looked up slowly. I was impressed at the narrowed stare she cast at him, but the young master was stoic as always.

"Don't say that... Don't say those words." That the girl was an hour away from starving to death and still managed to hiss that out was commendable.

"Young master, I'm quite sure you'll enjoy her. Pain and suffering are the salt of human souls, you see."

"You should know more than anyone else how I detest food with too much salt."

"I assure you, should does not have too much salt. Now, we must hurry, else a grim reaper may notice us."

"Very well."

I was quickly behind her, holding her wrists together with one hand and her head back with the other. She protested quite weakly, lacking the energy to give her best. Ciel knelt in front of her and promptly clamped his teeth down on her neck. Blood spattered over his face and clothing as he ate, promising stains that would never be fully removed from his clothing.

"Young Master, just because you are now a demon does not mean you must eat so sloppily." He ignored me and kept eating. I couldn't hold back a sigh at his insistence on having his way. Strange, at one point I found that utterly irresistible about him. While it suited him like a well-tailored vest, his unyielding nature seemed so uncharacteristic for a boy his age. Ironically, now it made him appear as, for lack of a better term, a spoiled brat.

Dear Ciel, is this what becomes of you after you lose direction? All of those characteristics that made you so exquisite fall apart in shambles? You mimic a once-beautiful sculpture laying in broken and unattractive pieces on the floor? You were once a sophisticated mosaic of pieces that seemed impossible to juxtapose. Rarely was one not captivated by your coldness and passion, your vulnerability and resolve, your intellect and naivete, your vindictiveness and understanding, and most striking: your maturity and shocking youth. I now see that the factor that arranged them so artfully was your need to punish those who had wronged you. With that need satisfied, all the components lie disconnected and unimpressive.

"Let's go, Sebastian." The young master stood after finishing off the child. I quickly stood as well and produced a handkerchief from my pocket.

"First off, we must return to my estate immediately and get you into more presentable clothing, sir," I told him as I wiped blood from his face.

"Fine, fine," he complied, swatting me away as soon as he had the chance.

I lifted him and carried him away, taking the quickest route to the nearest devil gate. "Young Master, we're going to need to get you accustomed to eating souls available in Hell if you intend to stay safe."

"That's a silly idea. If I were to ever run into danger with the grim reapers, it's your responsibility to protect me. I see no reason to eat stale souls because of the likes of them."

"You can be so ruthless."

"I intend to stay that way."

There it was, one of the vestiges of the young master I once served. Those displays were often incredibly true to his former character and incredibly fleeting, as if to mock me.

To experience that intoxicating brew that was Ciel Phantomhive just one more time... I can't think of a single thing I wouldn't do. If I can never devour your soul, then I am determined to enjoy our eternity together to the furthest extent of my capability.