London was a was a merciless tomb of cold air, frost and death. But not many of the people knew that. The few who did know, had already gotten too deep into London's secret of death and decay, they couldn't get back out. But what these people didn't know, was that pleasure and beauty went hand in hand with death.
But, as you, (Y/N), older sister to the fiance of Ciel Phantomhive, was about to find out... Death could take very pleasing shapes and forms. In fact, this forms were demons nonetheless.
It started on a cruelly cold night, the wind howled in your ears and your body, shivering in the French-made dress that you were forced to wear. You were hurrying down one of London's less safer routes, making a shortcut to the Phantomhive Manor- A place that you were always welcome to, unlike your sister, Lizzy.
Your steamy breath rose in a ghost-like cloud in front of you and then dissolved in the darkness's cold embrace.
A little way ahead, was a trio of men, shoving the remains of a prostitute in a dustbin, scowling in displeasure. That had been a pitiful meal for them. A small thing, with not much energy, love, passion or desire. A very sober meal indeed. The first man was the most angry. His lustful eyes were burning with anger and hunger. A soft hiss escaped his pearl fangs,which gleamed in he flickering light from the pub they were lingering outside of.
"All zhe vomen zhese days are tasteless! No desires! Fuck!" His leather clad foot made for a furious kick at the bin, making a clanging noise, quickly dulled by the corpse inside it.
The second man was watching him with a faint smirk on lips. His tongue hungrily swept across his lips, wetting them and wiping the blood off his peachy mouth. He shifted and flicked his fair hair out of his handsome face.
"Ah, mon ami... I feel so sorry for you. At least I got half a decent meal out of that tramp. She had a little love for her child. But, sadly, not enough. Zhat whore." The French accented purr that emitted from his mouth, almost made the Prussian man get fall into a daze. That was how most women were lured in. Just his voice was enough to entrance any woman, to do anything from drinking poison to jumping off a cliff.
The third man sighed and rubbed his stomach. His face, so amazingly sexy, was sad, although usually he was a passionate man... Well... Demon.
"Dios... So hungry... No passion at all..." He whispered, rubbing his aching stomach.
The Frenchman put his arm around the Spaniard's shoulder, sympathetic. Then the trio froze. They heard footsteps emitting from the darkness. Excitement and hunger stirred in their eyes as the soft footsteps came more and more closer. The Prussian sensed desire. A great deal of it too. Desire for freedom. Well... His fluttering little bird will be free soon... The Frenchman sensed love. So much love that made him feel quivery in his heart. Love for a sister, love for a strict mother, love for a brother-in-law to be, love for London. Don't worry... You're going to be soon ravished, mon petit fleur. And the Spaniard sensed passion. A passion for many, many things. He could barely contain himself from drooling... A grand feast of passion, that would fix him up...
The trio leaned against the cold wall, feeling it's unevenness dig into their toned backs. Their hungry eyes searched for their approaching meal, hunger tearing at their bellies. But, the dreadful hunger was driven from their dirty minds, when you stepped into the flickering light. your (H/C) hair was messy, strands of soft hair escaping the hated tight bun on your head. You're (E/C) eyes were drooping and tired, the hem of the dress dirty and frayed from walking. But to the trio of hungry demons, you were the most appetizing, most glorious, most desirable sight to behold.
You were oblivious to their presence, since they were half shrouded in darkness. The only thoughts that were in your head was the most important question... Could you get Sebastian before he went to bed, to ask him about a hot chocolate?
The question shattered as you bumped into a sculptured chest. You looked up, irritation clear in your face. However, it almost disappeared when you saw him... Almost.
The Prussian man was standing before you. Silver hair framed his face, hair that was tousled and shone like moon dust in the moonlight. His pale skin was beautiful, like... like... ivory... He could have been sculpted from ivory... The glorious skin contrasted beautifully with his deep, dark, lustful crimson eyes. Those eyes were the eyes of a hungry animal. A lion, an eagle, a serpent that was so beautiful that it was near deadly. The look in his eyes were of lust, desires and dominance. Basically, he radiated awesomeness.
"Ah... Ah..." You breathed, staring, absorbed in those eyes... Those eyes that could kill you with desire...
"Vell, hallo zhere."The Prussian purred, his German accent making the sentence more sexy... And dangerous.
The Prussian leaned in, cold breath stinging your lips. He was... He was... Going to...
"Bruder, touch zhat Mädchen, und it vill be zhe last thing you'll ever do"
~To be continued.