It had been one of those days. One of those rare rotten days, that had quickly plunged her into a sour mood, and brought out her insecurities. In the morning, Amelia had spilled her tea, accidentally burned her breakfast, and managed to tear one of the sheets as she made the bed.
By the afternoon, she had shattered the vase of a floral arrangement, unintentionally scraped her arm to the point of bleeding in the garden, changed clothes about twice, and uttered a simple spell wrong.
By the evening, the witch had gone through her seventh attempt at trying to brew a new potion. Her head ached and her patience wore thin. Sebastian had finished his duties early, and was barley returning. Muttering something about how the young Earl himself was in a foul mood, as he removed his gloves and tie.
By the time the Demon had stepped into the kitchen, Amelia had become a mess, and he had become the target of her frustration. She shouted at him, blindly threw whatever she could find at him, and he stood there silent and unfazed. It was only when she had begun to weep out of irritation that he moved. She retreated to the bedroom and he followed. Arms inviting and comforting words about to spill from thin lips; but she pushed him out, slammed the door, and locked it.
It was close to midnight by the time Amelia wandered out of the bedroom. In the kitchen, the mess she had created in a moment of emotional terror had been tidied up; and waves of guilt, for having made the butler endure her foul mood as well, plagued her.
She found Sebastian comfortably seated by the window. Waistcoat unfastened, sleeves rolled up, and heavily immersed in one of Shakespeare's works.
"Do you need something, my dear?" The Demon asked, licking his index finger in order to turn the page.
"I need you." The witch answered, voice above a whisper as she meddled with the frill on the sleeve of her night gown.
"Ah." Sebastian murmured simply and set the book down.
Their eyes met in a moment of silent apology and understanding. Before he reached out and pulled her onto his lap.
It was only after she was comfortably settled, head resting on his shoulder, and eyes dazed with sleep; that Amelia realized that there was no need for an apology. Sebastian had forgiven her the moment he had found her in that horrid state. In fact, it had not even bothered him to begin with.