Hithere guys! I'm back again with more little drabbly oneshots. It seems to be a newfound affliction. Ohohoho~

This ones a tad bit angsty, certainly sad, and very short.

It ended up liking it though, so up it goes! In all of its glory.

Its a tad bit one-sided Isuppose. Poor lil' Ciel~ 3

Enjoy!

((Hehe, tragedy is my new favorite word...can you tell?))

Discalimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. It belongs to its respective owner, and so do the characters of Ciel and Sebastian. But you kenw that didn't you?

Human lives are one tragedy after another.

Humans themselves culminating in their own despair, in their own existence that is so brief it hardly constitutes as anything more than the bat of a feeble eyelash.

And all this brisk despair and grief concludes in one final tragedy.

Death.

Is there anyone who knows this better than the person who feeds on the finely peppered results of such beautifully concocted tragedies? Sebastian often thought to himself, as a demon who knows century upon century of fate, of humans, of life, and of souls; could there be anything more immaculate?

The soul.

The soul is perhaps the most reassured part of any sort of being. Any spot of existence on this dreaded world has its end culminated in the beautiful dessert that is a human soul. When one devours a soul (as Sebastian has done for years upon years) the beautiful tragedy, the incredible grief that is a person's life is sampled to its glutton. The perfect concoction of disaster, perfectly seasoned for a palette that savors only the most tragic and desolate of lives.

So when Sebastian thought he had the perfect set of ingredients, when he stood before his dearest master, who had lived a life so brief it was almost shocking that one could have experienced such an expansive amount of misfortune in such a short-lived period of time; he thought that this most delectable treat was the absolute epitome of tragedy.

And when Sebastian drew his pale hand over his master's face, gently caressing his features in the tenderest of manners, and he saw his master as he was; he noticed that Ceil Phantomhive was a beautiful child. When Sebastian's hand drew its careful course over the boy's insipid features, he saw a discolored memory of perhaps the first tragedy that Ceil had experienced in his life. He saw the poor child, crying tears that were so unbefitting it seemed blasphemous that they had ever fallen from the deep blue eyes that were now so hardened like sapphire stone; conditioned with years of absolute cold and solid bitterness.(It was so beautiful. And, had Sebastian truly felt so, heartbreaking perhaps) It was a sinful innocence that still bubbled underneath of surface of icy nobility, and regal indifference. It would taste just like delicate vanilla lace, as frail as the boy, and feeble like a child's purity.

And when Sebastian looked into those cerulean crystals, those large and arresting orbs, he saw the reflection of blood. His blood red eyes, glimmering in the mirrors of blue ocean, and the pools of crimson liquid that flowed beneath his dearest master's small and dainty feet. It was vibrant and fresh, endlessly falling like tears from Ceil's dainty alabaster hands, like the poisoned ruby lips of snow white in disparity to her snowy sallow skin; the things that made her own mother so jealous she wished to kill her own daughter. It was this kind of calamity that made for the most delicious of dinners. Beautiful blood split for a purpose that was beyond all rational reason, beyond all charitable thought and noble deed. It was red, and it was full of sinful splendor. It would taste like fine red wine, un-ripened like the infantile boy, refined as the petite earl, and just as stunning as time itself, and the short time that had been allotted to this pitiable child.

And when Sebastian finally leaned forward, teeth bearing in a glimmering show of eager lust, he saw the loveliest tragedy of all; love. He saw the sincerity, the sureness of his impending death, and imbued beneath it all was the most beautiful and tragically twisted affections of love. The duties that were so menially preformed from day to say, the smallest of necessary gestures, and the most meager ministrations that had dappled these few years of service, all reflected with an absolute resonance of admiration, of dependency beyond all logical necessities. Buried deep within his being was a need for the daily caresses that meant so very little. They defined his heart, which ached with a fiery pain that ripped right through it in its tattered ruin. A heart that had been destroyed when it was opened up to the vast cruelty, the vast indifference, of the world. It was a feeling that was imbedded so deep into its subconscious it had never even breeched the surface until it was so carefully ripped from it safety and seclusion in this final moment.

And as Sebastian saw this, as he felt this deplorable devotion that the little master has carried for something so ephemeral that it could barely be considered as existing in the first place, he closed his garnet eyes and placed his thin lips, in the most chaste of manners (As chaste as a demon may hope to be) upon his master's pallid forehead. Cold and final.

Ceil smiled.

It would taste like bitter misery.

And as Sebastian went to dine on his biggest masterpiece, he felt the wreckage of life that was Ceil Phantomhive grace his existence with the most tragic of all human loss.

(Unrealized, Unrequited, Unreasonable)

Love.

Thanks for reading guys~

It's never anything special but I hoped it entertained you at least in the slightest!
Reviews are nice of course! 3

-Staa'cy