The sequel. Very OOC.
The grey-haired former-Shinigami's laugh is so fucking annoying; I just want to tear his throat out with my claws and teeth and drink his blood while he screams for mercy-
OK, maybe that's a bit violent, but they way he looks at me is worse than the way Sebastian has been looking at me for the past week – a true achievement. We couldn't get to Undertaker immediately, and the next free time he had was...well, today, a bloody week later, and that was only because I had threatened him with bodily harm – well, Sebastian did the threatening; I had merely stood there and watched in cold approval.
"Heh~," Undertaker pets me, his long nails scratching my head unpleasantly, "I don't know; it'll be hard to change him back, and even if I can do it, he'll be left with a few...additions."
Like what? I narrow my eyes and get Sebastian to repeat my thought.
"Oh, nothing major...~" he has gotten a hold of me and the only thing that stops me from scratching his eyes (wherever they are) out is the fact that he is the only one who can help me, "He may still have a tail...and cat-ears...and pointy teeth...but that's it, really!~"
Seriously? I'd still be part-cat, and I'm not sure that I'd like that...especially with the likes of him around... I give Sebastian a glare, which he meets, and I eventually look away out of sheer embarrassment. It is well known (to me, at least...) that Sebastian has an...unhealthy obsession with cats; for the past week, I've barely been able to get any time to myself, as the damn demon has had me next to him at all times. And the worst part was that I could do nothing about it.
"I think those...side-effects...aren't that severe," Sebastian breaks his gaze away from me and turns to the Undertaker, "Fine, we'll go through with it."
We!? I bare my teeth, There is no 'we' in this, princess! It's all about me; about me getting your failure fixed!
"Don't stress, young master~," he pets me; Undertaker raises an eyebrow when I don't hiss at this (disgusting) display of public affection, "You'll be fine, I promise~."
If I could blush under this fur, I would be right now, but I can't, so I'm not, but I do feel rather warm...
"'K then, that's settled; if you will follow me, Earl...~" Undertaker beckons and starts towards the back of his...shop and, with an (shamefully) apprehensive glace at the demon , disappear behind the curtain.
-3-3-3-
(Later)
"Well, that went well..." I rest my chin on the desk and sigh; yes, I made it back to a much more humane form, but those side-effects that Undertaker mentioned were much worse than he made them out to be.
I am now stuck with a permanent pair of fluffy blue-grey cat ears on my head now, and a blue-grey tail, and tiny fangs, but that's not the worst part (though it's not that good). I also have...strange urges to be affectionate, which is extremely embarrassing, and dairy products have become so much nicer and-!
I got all these cat-like instincts, which sucks. Especially the whole affectionate bit. Luckily, I've managed to avoid giving into these bursts of affection (I came dangerously close to hugging that demon when he gave me an affectionate pet on the head after completing a day's worth of work).
"AWWW~~"
I let out a curse and stare up from my work; Elizabeth stands there, dressed in painfully frilly pink...everything, and her eyes are shining with the light of a thousand suns – I cringe.
"So, it's true~!" She trills, and I am pulled into a fierce embrace – unfortunately, this embrace involves pulling me over the desk and thus messing up all my hard work and neat piles, "You have cute ears and a cute tail and everything!~"
"...Must you?" I sigh and let her hold me tight.
"YES!" she nuzzles her face into my hair and squees, "Your hair! It's so soft and fluffy!~"
"..." I look up and see Sebastian behind the young girl, "..."
"Forgive me, Lady Elizabeth," he attracts her attention, "But I must pull your fiancée away; it is quite late, as you can see."
"Oh! Of course~!" she lets go of me and leaves the room quite quickly; that girl never ceases to amaze me.
"It is late, Bocchan," I narrow my eyes at him.
"Are you insinuating that I should go to bed now?"
"Well-."
"Fine," I shrug and glide out of the room, Sebastian following behind; I can almost feel his gaze on me. It's been like that for the past few days, actually; I can feel his burning gaze on me whenever I'm looking the other way, and it's really irritating – especially because I have no idea as to why he's looking at me like that.
I mull this over on my way to my room, and continue to do so as I am undressed and redressed for bed. Twice, Sebastian has to bat my tail out of the way – it always amuses me that he gets so pissed off over it flicking him on the face. Tonight, however, I give up after the second time and resume thinking, absently allowing myself to be tucked into the over-large bed.
"What are you thinking about, Bocchan?" Sebastian asks, and I stare at him for a long moment.
I guess it's just a demon thing, I end my trail of thought with that statement and say aloud, "Nothing, really."
"...Yes, my Lord," he gives me a look that says that he knows I'm lying, but does not press the matter; instead, he bids me goodnight and blows out the candelabra.
I turn over when the lights are blown out, and just as I had suspected, that gaze is back upon me. I level out my breathing and try to act as if I am asleep; I close my eyes and curl up slightly, clutching at the pillow with my hand.
After what seems to be an eternity, I hear the demon move and a hand is suddenly in my hair, stroking it and the letting his fingers drift to my cheek; I struggle to stay relaxed and-
Oh God not again-
One of those 'affectionate moods' is deciding to make itself known, and I have to physically stop myself from embracing the demon in a hug. I bite my lip and, through my mind, I run a list ofpeople I want to be murdered because of what they've done to me:
1) Grell
2) Undertaker
3) Anyone else who comments on my appearance
Seems pretty fair, I muse to myself, but I am jolted from my thoughts when I feel lips pressed against my cheek and hear a soft 'Goodnight Bocchan'. I turn around, but he is no longer there, and this is very puzzling, and what the hell did he just do, and why isn't it pissing me off nearly as much as it should and why am I thinking in run-on sentences and-
Just what the fuck. What. The. Fuck.