I'm writing this fic for robovacation, my Sebaciel fanfiction idol.~
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji and I never will.
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The door was nudged open with a booted foot, the rest of the boy's body slipping effortlessly through the slender opening. Thumbs were habitually hooked into belt loops, pale lips parting slightly to execute an impatient huff. A sapphire eye narrowed as it surveyed the expanse of the room, stopping at a wooden counter in the back, where a uniformed woman was typing away at a computer.
Loitering footsteps alerted the secretary of the approaching boy. She swiveled her chair around, brushing platinum blonde hair behind an ear and assuming a robotic, lipsticked smile.
"Hi sweetie, how may I help you?"
"Ciel Phantomhive. Physical with Dr. Michaelis at 3."
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There was a thump as what appeared to be a vacuum packed sofa was dropped by Ciel's side. He raised a brow at the grotesque floral pattern of the fabric, simultaneously guesturing to it with a jab of his finger.
"Am I supposed to…?" he began lowly.
"Put that on, yes."
The unnamed nurse pinched a corner of the cloth delicately, the corners of her mouth turning down slightly in an almost unnoticable grimace. Her other hand quickly came forward to pick up another side of it, tugging and spreading the hideous gown across the crinkled paper of the examination table. Ciel resisted the urge to recoil in disgust; several large stains were mapped out on the distasteful fabric.
Looks like somebody wiped up shit with-is that blood?
The sound of the nurse awkwardly clearing her throat brought Ciel's attention back to her.
"The doctor will be around soon. You better put.. that on."
With a pitying smile, the nurse turned on her heel, stepping neatly through the doorway. The door closed with a soft click, and then Ciel was alone. He listened as the slap of her shoes faded away, replaced with the ominous buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead.
Eyeing the gown with distaste, Ciel allowed himself to fall backwards onto the rigid exam table. He stretched his stiff, further crumpling the paper covering and "accidentally" pushing the gown off the table, where it puddled in an unsightly heap. His arms fell limply to the sides, briefly touching with the cold leather of the table before slipping and dangling off the sides. Navy orbs met the textured ceiling before lids dropped to conceal them. Ciel permitted his thoughts to wander, first about food (he had made the mistake of skipping lunch), then about the oncoming appointment.
Michaelis, huh- wonder if ..
The raucous creak of an unoiled hinge rudely interrupted his thought.