I ought to be more ashamed of myself…but I am a little bit, so I'm improving, right?

Kuroshitsuji does things to me. It's evil. (it is quite scary…but I love it anyway)*runs away crying to hide in a corner*

This is very bad, I know…basically my writing style is to start a bunch of different paragraphs, stick them together, keep writing for a couple of hours,

then cut it down until it starts to make sense…it really shows, huh?

Um, and I do mention it but in this story Ciel is…17? 18? Older, anyhow. Well, I put it in anyway.

Disclaimer: …kuroshitsuji. Not mine. Go figure. (what does that even mean?)

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Ciel would not appear to have changed much. Taller, his hair worn a little longer, but still slender, pale and androgynous. One thing that has not so much changed as increased is his odd reputation: he is not quite an upstanding servant of Her Majesty, not quite sparkling material for a dinner party, not quite normal with his slightly feline posture and movements. His wardrobe, too, is not quite what would be expected. Besides that eyepatch, he still maintains a fondness for shorts with stockings and garters, and it's rumoured that he's taken to wearing corsets.

But the young Earl of Phantomhive has never been the model of the respectable aristocracy: orphaned in a fire, disappearing for months, and then, after another strange fire, this one destroying the home of one of his parents' associates and killing the large and still unidentified group gathered in the extensive cellars, reappearing with that strange smiling butler, the butler that accomplishes everything perfectly and effortlessly but seems to have no regard for tradition or propriety.

The butler, likewise, has not changed at all in the seven years he has been under the Earl's service, unless it could be that he has grown ever more subtly insubordinate beneath the surface, his smiles more and more insincere.

…………………………………………………………………

Ciel arranges his body in the oversized leather armchair. He raises a hand and beckons languorously. The ever-present shadow in the corner of the room steps forward, leaning down so that the master will not have to raise his voice.

"Sebastian…" the boy murmurs, his eye shaded beneath long lashes, "…please show the Director and his lady out."

"Yes, My Lord." The butler bows and goes to hold the door open, indicating the way out with a sparkling glove, smiling with curved, closed lips and eyelids. Shut, with no way in. His dark hair hangs quietly around the pale, handsome mask of a face.

With the visitors gone, the cursed Earl settles deeper into the shadows of the chair, waiting for his demonic servant (a demon and a butler) to return.

…………………………………………………………………

Ciel is impure, corrupted. A human child, that which should have been sweet and innocent, twisted and broken by what happened to him, what was done to him, and then stained beyond redemption by his own actions. He made a contract with a demon, promising a part of himself, something that should never be given away, to a creature of sin and nightmares. Ciel has fallen so far that he sold himself for revenge without a second thought. Since then, he has only become more settled into his role.

Sebastian is not the one who is tainted. He is pure, a being only of evil. A demon is only the reflection of an angel, approaching the same point but from the opposite direction. (And aren't angels torn between their love for humans and their burning envy for a being so flawed and yet so much more precious, so fragile and yet so much more valued by God? Aren't demons only broken angels, angels who chose the wrong side?) In any case, the pure black and the pure white are, from a certain point of view, the same. It's only when you start mixing the two that you get problems.

Ciel is jealous of Sebastian, poisonously jealous. The Earl jealous of the butler, the human master jealous of the demon slave. His envy has grown, slowly, as he has, under the curse, staring at his doom, his smiling death, every day. It's not supposed to be like this.

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Sebastian returns, taking up his position in front of the chair. Ciel stares at him from its leather-lined depths.

"Young Master, the guests have been dispatched and are safely on their way. I am afraid I must also inform you that Meirin accidentally set fire to the dining-room drapes. I have extinguished the fire and taken the liberty of ordering new ones. Will the old style be acceptable?"

"…Mm…"

"Very good, Young Master. I have also arranged that your dinner be served in the drawing room until full repairs have been made."

Silence.

"Forgive my impertinence, Young Master, but is everything alright?"

Ciel has barely registered Sebastian's words. He's sunk in a pool of cold, heavy thoughts. He can see the pale lips moving, tightly curled upwards once more to keep the darkness in. The brown-red eyes smirk, glistening, beneath lowered eyelashes.

I hate you.

Ciel is filled with a cold fury.

I HATE YOU.

He overflows with rage towards the smiling demon. The demon who is impeccable, irreproachable, who wears the costume of his loyal servant.

When in reality it's the other way round, and the demon owns his soul.

It's a lie.

He hates the demon, who in his dark perfection is a smooth mirror showing Ciel only his own flaws.

Why is everything backwards? Why is everything the opposite of what it should be?

Ciel has thrown himself out his chair, without realizing it, and hurled himself across the study.

It's because of YOU. You turn me round, you make me wrong. You make me look worthless.

He trips on his own ankles, unused to such ferocious movement, and collides heavily with the butler, who, startled, has been unable to move out of the way. They fall to the floor, Sebastian trying to cushion his master screaming and hitting at the front of his suit.

I…hate you…

He waits, motionless, for Ciel to subside into sobs and trembling, while his face shifts back into its usual calm expression, the mask of the perfect butler. The boy slowly quietens.

"Really, Young Master, I don't think a tantrum at your age is fitting behaviour for a Phantomhive heir, do you?"

What did you do to make me like this? What did you do to make me so confused?

"Me, Young Master? I assure you, I have done nothing that was not at your command."

Ciel looks up through one reddened, tear-stained, and startlingly blue eye. It would seem he that can no longer cry with the other, because the eyepatch is not even damp.

Did I say…all of that…out loud?

"Yes, you did." Another of the black, blank smiles.

I hate you.

But I don't know which way round I am any more.

Ciel starts crying again.

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Well…I tried to break up the endless description with some narrative (hah)…did it work?

Hehe, the corset. ^^ .couldn't resist...who doesn't love "that scene"? LOL…ah…I was quite scared by it…

…anyone else REALLY FREAKED OUT by episode 17? I was completely terrified and confused..i don't know what the xxxx those writers are on, but it's not good..aaaaaarrrrrrrrrgh *mindrape*

Thanks for reading my crazy story, and please spare a review if you have the time *writes reviewers on list of love*

*realises list of love is useless and incinerates*