I don't own Kuroshitsuji or Hannibal. I just play with them. Next chapter Grell has talk therapy with a Cannibal.
Grell Sutcliff sat with his legs crossed delicately, leaned deeply into the navy blue chair, head against the rest bored and indignant. His brow furrowed and his lips pursed together in annoyed thought. Ah! Why? Why was he sitting here? Waiting of course, but why was he waiting? Because Will said he had too or else … Or else what?
…or else I will confiscate your death scythe and demote you to lowest level possible in the Association.
Will had managed to sound a fraction righteously smug when he said that, all the while sounding like his usual boredly disdainful, officious self, all the while looking delicious in his crisp, creaseless black suit and those Shinigami spectacles and that glossy comb back.
"But we're Shinigami, how do you expect us to go to human shrinks?" Grell shouted righteously enraged, "No, no, no this is preposterous!"
"Stop your whining Grell Sutcliff, it's a new office policy and we will comply with it!"
"But I don't see anyone else having to go!" Grell fought his pale skin tingeing crimson with his exertion.
Will gave him a severe look.
"This is mad! It's just me, isn't it?"
Will adjusted the spectacles on the bridge of his nose with the hedge clipper scythe, "You think you have the freedom to act as you please, to resort to your desires and act like a blood crazed demon, if you can sink to a demon's madness then you can very well get your head sorted out by a human." This little speech was spat out with malice inspired by the Phantomhive's demon.
William reached out and grabbed Grell by the scruff, "You will go because I say so." The red head was released and the senior Shinigami disappeared. The others in the office averted their eyes with the exception of the older members who were accustomed to their behavior. Grell was left heady and giddy with the feeling of Will's hand lingering on the skin of his neck where the knuckles grazed – Will's hand. His heart raced and Grell, the murderous ripper of the 1600s melted like ice cream out in the sun.
"Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll! Coooooooooooooooooome baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!" Grell squealed, "Wiiiiiiiiiiiil my love!"
His mobile gave a jangle, and he swiped the screen, "Don't be tardy. Appointment's at seven exact. Don't make me angry Grell."
Grell forgot about his indignation completely with this small boon from his officious love.
Grell stirred angrily, he was such a sucker for a good looking man. A tall looker in a suit, a stern man, a bad man, someone with attitude. Someone like his old flame Sebastian! Sexy Sebastian who broke his heart at every chance! What old geezer would he have to spend the evening. He rubbed his temple, leaning his slender frame forward. He should make William pay for this, tie him up and flay him. Oh, bad thoughts! Bad indeed. Grell grinned and begged the God's to forgive him for his slight transgression.
He really hoped he could maybe kill this old geezer - just this once.