Based on the Tumblr one word prompt: Glass. This is probably the heaviest thing I have ever written and I truly made myself sad writing it!


Life is fragile thing. Like glass, the surface can be scratched away by a diamond ring, and just as easily fractured to irreplaceable proportions by a prod too heavy against a preexisting splinter. Sebastian Michaelis' existence was not as breakable as that of his master. Resistant and indestructible as the little earl liked to think he was, it was as if he himself were made of cracking porcelain. How simple it would be to shatter him entirely, to crush him down into tiny unrecognizable shards, too small for even the finest craftsmen to piece him back together once the clawed hands of his devil had shred him so thoroughly. But Sebastian found that he had no desire to do so. What a pity it would be to harm something so endearing, so entertaining, so lovely. Mortals were frail, a tap of a talon too sharp would without a doubt rend one beyond repair, but Ciel was not afraid of him. The heir's perceptiveness exceeded the his years; He knew in the depths of his heart and mind that his butler would never scar him so badly that he would not recover. His pride was scraped raw, his mind shot from their constant slew of never-ending games, his body marred by the hands of mortals more vicious than his own death, and his eyes leaden the fatigue weighing down his spirit day after day, but still he didn't sleep. Insomnia kept his haunted orbs open and barely blinking, thoughts adrift in a sea of endless melancholy and anguish. Everything was heavy. Chapped lips remained firmly sealed, as if sewn shut by the expert hands of a tailor, bid to keep silent and stoic while the stormy ocean swallowed him whole. He was not alone in his gasps for air, partially above the salty sea and beneath the pouring rain, deadly winds and violent bolts of light, another's sail was equally ragged and sheared, sinking into to the sea's sightless floor without a single cry for help. The ship's occupant hid his agony well. "Young master, might I ask as to why you are so reluctant, or rather incapable, of finding slumber this night? Could it be that there is something troubling you?"

Darkness lashed its tendrils, coiling around the limbs of the young adult lying betwixt pristine sheets, raising its ugly head and gripping him in a choke-hold, suffocating and drowning him all at once. The entity was unseen, its tightening grip unbeknownst to the devil knelt beside the bed of his dear master. Ebony lashes fluttered if only for a moment, like the hesitant batting of a butterflies wings as transparent pearls beaded at their tips, an encompassing sorrow burrowing into the core of their owner's heart. Emptiness. That's what it was. Drops of an overflowing river faded as quickly as they'd formed and dripped onto the Egyptian cotton, staining the snow white a pale grey as they saturated its top layer. The second one to slowly break through the concrete dam was caught by onyx and ivory, creating a glossy sheen upon the digit on which it fell. "No, it is only one of those nights when sleep refuses to take me."

Sebastian understood well. Every time the moon rose, it was the same for him. He could lay in hush, shut his eyes and will his consciousness to drift away for awhile, to pass the time and experience what it was to dream for the first time, but sleep would never come. For hours, he would toss and turn, count the grooves in the wooden floorboards, pinpoint the exact time a meal would need to prepared and at what hour he should replace the roses on the dining table, all in an effort for an event that would never proceed. "I see. However... Is there also a possibility that you feel particularly vulnerable tonight? You have been waking in fits of screams and sweat dampened sheets without reprieve for a fortnight now."

"How ridiculous! I am not like the others. I do not fear things I know aren't real, nor do I possess the same longing they hold for comfort. I can keep going without the nuisances they deem necessary, it does not bother me to be without affection or the affliction of love no matter the case." Ciel's words were bitter, laced with exhaustion and a pretty lie twisted into the form he thought best to fool his newly claimed lover. It was as if looking through a mirror at a reflection of his own thoughts months prior.

"Yet, you harbor both affection and love, and are offered them in return should you not so stubbornly deny and cast them aside. But isn't that just it, young master? All creatures alike: humans, angels, demons... We all want to be seen for what we aren't and in the process of pretending, convince ourselves that we are as we assume. Angels yearn to be seen as visages of purity; Kind, caring, sympathetic, chaste. Whereas your kind want to be seen as perfect, no matter their personal standards of such an impossible prospect; Beautiful, clever, strong, empathetic. My kind, well, we wish to be seen as beasts: Vile, malicious, lascivious, demented. While some of heaven's warriors are just and pleasant as the stories and prayers make out, not all are so selfless as to give their lives for a mere mortal. Above all, they are beings of immortal blood and grace, arrogant and as snobbish as could be, seeing any not possessing a promise of eternity as a waste of time and space. Any human they save will die eventually, what happens before or after is none of their concern unless given higher orders. Not that any have been issued or instated in a millennia... Meanwhile, humans are anything but perfect. There are lovely humans, loyal ones, talented ones, and there are destructive, lustful, wrathful ones as well. But even the most captivating among you is not without fault, it makes your kind all the more fascinating. You isolate yourself and talk as if you lack emotional attachments and care, but I can see otherwise. Your eyes speak the words your tongue refuses to form. You are lonely, young master."

Twisting, wringing the sheets as if attempting to bring a shallow comfort to his shivering form, no denial met the demon's ears. Admittance in the sole form it was given by the aristocrat. "And what of demons? You say that I am so different from what I deem myself. But are you also different from legends and beliefs thrust upon you, Sebastian?" In spite of his words, the corners of the thick duvet encasing the last remaining Phantomhive were pulled back wordlessly, granting entrance and a mutual consolation to the being of darkness whom he called his own.

Accepting with great gratitude, the narrow and elegant form of the earl was embraced in arms draped in only the thin white cotton making up up his manservant's dress shirt, bare of his tailcoat and waistcoat for the first time in days. Sebastian's hold told the truth before his lips could do so; Lost in a desert with no end in sight, Ciel was his oasis, the single taste of freedom and equanimity he was provided in the infinite trek throughout what he considered a purgatory of the universe's making. How he loathed the reminder that someday his paradise, his Eden, would be no more and he would be forced out into the cold and hellish light of day. "Less of hell's residents are as bloodthirsty and malevolent as old testaments make us out to be. Of course, at our very core we are made up of a spiraling darkness, an energy entirely unlike that of yours and far blacker than a heavenly entity. As such, not all of us relent or show mercy upon occasion, some truly are the monsters we are made out to be; rendering others limb from limb, devouring any living creature in sight with rows of fangs and an appearance horrifying enough to cause the unravelling of a mind and the undoing of a culture, however that is rarely the case with Earth-dwelling devils, such citizens scarcely leave their homes, much less hell... But deep down, we are all the same in the end. No matter how proud, strong-willed, fearless, and stone-hearted we are, we all fear. Death, abandonment, abuse, solitude... When our lights fade and we start to decay, whether in body or spirit, without a single fragment of hope left to grasp onto in our pit of despair, what is there then? No audience to put on a show for, no riches to flaunt to inspire envy and hatred among others. No airs to put on to better a name, gain reprieve, or soothe a sin. We are but miserable, suffering pounds of flesh and energy with a conscious larger than that of our bodies. Astral projections of our pain spewing out as we writhe and shriek like maggots, locked in an eternal war against our own minds for serenity and sempiternity. Some will find peace while others will not. Some will scream when they meet death, beg, plea, sob and mourn. Whilst others will remain stoically silent, accepting and greeting with a given hand and a sigh of defeat. It is the same with immortality, but in a different way. Unless run through by a holy blade or a reaper's scythe, I cannot die. Because of that fact, I will face my everlasting existence alone."

Human lives were short, demon lives were not, that much Ciel knew. But his time on Earth would always be spent with Sebastian by his side, to help him even when he refused to admit he needed it. However, when he faded from the living world's hold, Sebastian would not be given the same gift his other half was. The life of a demon was a lonely one. "Losing you is the only thing I fear from death. But since you will never part from existence, you will have forever to search on. Whether I am created again in some form or another or never to occur again after you devour my soul, you will find another after me. Perhaps one without death looming over their shoulder like a constant cloud above their head."

As warmth more cozy that the flickering flames and embers of a freshly stoked fire bathed the nobleman's form from Sebastian's chest and arms, said man sighed and brushed adoring yet despondent kisses across the enchanting features of his mate, lulling him into some sense of repose as his body slumped against Sebastian's own. Ciel had yet to fully fall asleep, but even with the throbbing ache in his chest, Sebastian managed some semblance of a smile. At least one of them would find temporary tranquility. "I would never dream of searching out another after you, for I would never replace the only one who has ever made my heart of stone beat and bleed... Death may be daunting to you, my lord-my love... But life is just as frightening for me as eternal sleep is for you. For you will find rest someday, I will not."