Afterlife
Before God, never he would allow such a rude manner from striking; he hadn't ever consider himself being touched, his cells being collided with someone else's... Apart from the raven's – indubitably (but that was in previous story). That person who did lick him, although only touched his ear - left ear, to be more precise – that person had stayed in his memory, in his brain. Like cancer cell that grew bigger and bigger, and destroyed its surrounding cells, destroying his other memories. Or like computer virus, that could contaminate fast, destroying his memory card. He had been thinking about the lick, only about that lick since a while. Is this because of the spontaneous attack that occurred too unexpectedly that by profound astonishment, that he would remember it so well, so fluidly? True enough, never he had been licked on the ear. Only his dog, perhaps, that died in a passed lifetime that he could no longer retain. The lick that he remembered was far different from any pet licking. It was cold, wet and sticky. Sticky as the tongue wouldn't ever stick back to its fountainhead. Sticky as the trace made by its saliva stayed permanent. Cold - wet - sticky; saliva was it only? Or maybe it contained a small percentage of phlegm, mucus, food? Foreign material? Indeed, it did smell like dust and cobweb. Lack of toothpaste for sure. One would say it is impossible to smell our own ear. But anyhow, that lick was what he remembered the most. Cold - wet - sticky; it was as outstanding as World War II in the Europe history, as familiar as his own name, Ciel Phantomhive. "Ciel Phantomhive!", like how that person called the first time they intersected. Cold, wet, sticky; Ciel Phantomhive: the invisible celestial palace, where he would crown his memorable one as the queen bee. Nay, that bee is already trapped in the cobweb. And dead. And still hanging beside the spider. Too late to realize regret now. But too soon to give birth to a new sentimental feeling that could be called "love". Now that he became a demon, it might be possible to create relationship with dead's souls. He is not interested in mortals, human that is, like how the raven desired. But creating contract with the spider's pray needed to face the spider and his poked-eyed subordinate. And the raven. That bird would be intimately pissed off again. O farewell, bumble bee… for now.
Olé!