Joke,
Even though he knew it was a joke, Ciel wished that the blood looked a little less real and that Sebastian was not quite as good at playing dead.
"Wake up this instant!" he yelled, grasping the front of his shirt – cold, so cold – and shaking him. "That's an order."
Nothing. Not even a flicker. He was good.
Was he alive? He hadn't... No! This was not the time. He could not feel remorse now. You better get up when this is over, his mind uttered ominously, or I will not be happy.
That blood looked so real.
And his skin was ... not right. He slapped him across the face – just because it seemed like something he would do, if he had just lost his pawn, his right hand, if he'd been cheated out of a deal. But really? Ciel wondered if he'd even be this loud.
Sebastian was everything now, and losing him would take his voice, too.
Hurt,
Just a little something to take the edge off. That's what she needed, and desperately, but every time her mind brought up what she could use – liquor, pills, the dull blade of a butter knife – it also brought up images of him. With his glasses on just perfectly, his hair combed just right, his suit speck-and-dust free. Please do not bleed in the building; our cleaners are overworked enough as it is.
"Please do not bleed in the building," he mimicked Will's voice, pushing his glasses up his nose as he so often did, "our cleaners are o-"
"What are you doing, Mister Sutcliff?"
Will's prim voice had him swinging around guiltily, though his expression of 'puppy-caught-chewing-the-sofa' didn't last very long when he saw that look in his eyes – the one that said 'I am not amused' and the one that never failed to make Grell giggle – and he bounded over to the elder shinigami and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
"Nooooothing. You're so cute, William," he laughed and rested against his body despite the other's attempts to push him back. "I love you."
And though there was no reply back, nothing but a testy push, some part of him knew that he felt the same.
Hundred,
Humans only lived for a hundred or so years; a handful of moments to a demon. Those hundred years could pass by so quickly. And he didn't even have a full hundred anymore! His young master was twenty-four now, and his life had shortened.
Seventy six years more. After that, he would be gone.
"Sebastian!" The pillow glanced off his back as he rolled onto his stomach. Drowsily, he pushed himself up on an elbow and found himself confronted with a very irate young master, who had become mostly uncovered due to his incessant movements.
"Will you stop? I'm freezing because of you," Ciel sighed, sagging back on his bed with the dramatics of a theatre major. "There's nothing to it now – you'll have to warm me up again."
Sebastian's grin was slow and soft, his fingers already inching a soft trail down his side when Ciel caught it and then the other and tied them together.
"Oh no," the answering smile was much too happy to be anything good, "your hands are cold. You're going to have to warm me up with your mouth... bit by little bit..."
A warm chuckle left Sebastian's lips. He nodded his head, sliding one leg over both of Ciel's to straddle his lap. "Yes, my lord," he promised and bent his head. One more day gone.