So, this is a... hardcore filler. Type thing. I don't know. c:

Just something random to kick it off, plus this particular part has been in my head for a long while. But Alois = Lauv. And I didn't take too kindly to how Claude was to him towards the end. So, I'm going to give a take of my own in which the Spider starts seeing the worthiness, if you will, of his Young Master's soul. Alois's point of view, eventual Claude/Alois (that's two boys, you know. don't you even give me hate comments about this when i've stated it beforehand. don't 'choo go there, sister), gore ranging from light to heavy, probable reoccurring use of bad language thanks to Alois Trancy.

Kuroshitsuji isn't mine, reviewing with criticism, compliments, and/or suggestions is loved.

I know none of these faces. None of them. I watch them, breaking smiles and laughs and jokes. These people don't know me, nor do I them. "Nonsense, Young Master." But I know that voice. She's beside me suddenly, as if she'd appeared from thin air. I smirk at her arrival. "Nonsense, Hannah?" My lips move for more but she's beaten me to it. "All is for you. They look only to you."

I don't like how she's talking to me. She's not cringing, not even frowning, but smiling pleasantly like the stupid maid she is. I want to strike her. But again, she's oddly fast, and we're dancing now. Spinning and whirling, everything but her before me is a blur and I want to get away. I don't want her touching me this way, much less at all. We weave through the people dancing about us that talk in muddled mutters. Then I hear her. She's mumbling, whispering, her eyes closed. "For you, for you, for you,"

Then, just as the music is reaching its crescendo and the people are twirling faster, I feel something drip onto my cheek. It slides down sluggishly, and I lift my head. Rain? No. So I look to Hannah for answers, something to make her useful (or, rather, entertaining, seeing as how she probably wouldn't know), and I see the cause of the drip. Red is streaming from both her eyes, the corner of her glossed periwinkle lips. It stains the bandage she has over her eye; the mark I had given her. The smile is still on her face, we spin round and round.

The sticky red is flowing steadily to the music, catching up and increasing in amount the higher the notes travel. Her entire tanned chin is covered in red as blood all but floods passed her teeth, dying the periwinkle an odd shade. Blood comes from her nose and ears as well now, and her face and neck are nothing but a red mess as it flows down to blossom on her dress.

Slowly, I smile myself, and then she releases me and crumples. I catch glimpses of her, bleeding out profusely, as I spin on my toes with one hand raised without guidance.

Now that I'm looking, everyone has become a fountain of red. No one stands now but me. I feel eyes on me everywhere, the mumbling is gone, the music is back to a normal pace. My shoes are now tracing a temporary part in the pools of blood, and I'm still spinning. Then -

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Someone's got a hold on me, odd textured fingers lacing through my hand in the air. It's slowly brought down a little, and my feet move again in a different pattern. I look up, seeing all but black until I reach yellow. Yellow gleaming through simple wire frames.

"Claude."

"Dance, Your Highness. They're watching. All watching."

I look at him, unsure. And gradually, another crazed grin slips onto my lips. That's right. You have eyes only for me.

Spinning, stepping, stepping again followed by another spin and a gliding motion. We could be this way forever, you and I. If it is what I wish. Do you hear this music around us? It's so boring. I don't like repetition. But our feet are moving differently. I find myself focusing on them, and not the notes, but also on how Hannah's blood is not all over me.

"For you, Your Highness, for you, Your Highness, for you, Your Highness.."

"I need for you to wake up, Your Highness."

My eyes open quickly, and they instantly flick over to the source of the voice. Claude stands there, face as blank as ever as he holds my clothes for the day draped over one arm. Hannah is there as well, though she is heading for the door. Blinking once, my vision hazing momentarily, I sit up lazily and stretch wide like a cat. "Hannah, Hannah~." My voice draws out the last syllables. I'm grinning again, remembering the dream.

"Young Master?" she says, pausing before turning to face me. "I had a dream, and you were in it." I say simply, peeling myself from the mattress with ease and ignoring Claude as I see him reach momentarily to undress me. I walk right past him, until I'm inches from Hannah's sun kissed face. "I would like to tell you a secret." She frowns, lips in a tight line and she leans down to put her ear just by my mouth.

Even so, I push myself up onto my toes, and I whisper silkily and smirk with one of my hands tangled in the bosom of her dress, "You bled so much, Hannah. You bled for me, spilled your filthy blood and made a mess. How shameful, you wench." Then, laughing, I pull away and put a finger to my lips with a soft hushing noise, laughing more at her face. She looks at me bitterly, though blank still, and turns and leaves slowly after I shove her away by my grasp on the clothing.

"Serves you right, Hannah. Your ability to dance, much like your appearance, is pitiable."

Spinning on a heel, I waltz back to my black-clad butler, humming the music that played in my dream. I stop before him, still humming the tune as he turns to finally unbutton the solid white nightgown. Then I stop, just as fast. My Cheshire smile fades and I watch him with narrowed eyes. "You were in my dream as well, Claude. We danced for them, for all those people letting us twirl about in their blood. You told me they all had eyes just for me."

Claude says nothing, and I am not really disappointed until moments later when he's already buttoning up the vest of my attire. I frown, then look at him pointedly. "Well? Did you mean it?" He takes his sweet time answering, and I feel myself scathing inwardly at him until he glances up at me, adjusts his glasses, and speaks. "It was your dream, Young Master. They had eyes only for you." he confirms, voice still a monotone but I am pleased, none the less.

..No. I wanted more.

"What about your eyes?" I purr abruptly, and allow him to sit me back down on the bed to pull on my stockings. My fingers trail along his cheek, and I raise a brow as I bring my other hand over as well to lift his face so his gaze lingers on me. Such a hard gaze, full of emotion yet not. "Are your eyes mine, Claude?" His fingers continue to work on pulling on my shoe now despite him not looking; the routine is simple by now. "I am to give my master whatever he wishes until the time comes for me to get what I wish."

I tilt my head and laugh, thumbs skimming just behind the frames of his glasses now. "Your eyes are for me and me alone, Claude. Is this understood, you dog?" Like clockwork, his head bows and a hand goes over his heart.

"Yes, Your Highness."