Disclaimer: I own nothing :'(
A/N: Hey guys, hope you enjoy this beginning chapter. It's basically just a little intro, nothing exciting happens in it (yet). Reviews are always appreciated (:
CHAPTER ONE
XxxX
Ciel gazes blankly out of the car window, listening to the staccato rhythm of raindrops pelting against the glass surface as he mentally counts each passing treetop. The rain, coupled with the static sound of high-pitched opera singing being transmitted by the old, crackling radio, is just insignificant background noise. Everything around him, from the sky of such a miserable, cloudless grey, to the looming, ornate lampposts that line either side of the motorway, is completely and utterly meaningless. Even his redheaded aunt in the driver's seat, who is drumming her long fingernails (painted a bright, garish crimson to match her equally bright and garish hair) against the leather of her steering wheel and trying desperately to forge a conversation with him, is insignificant to him. He knows he should hold his aunt, his last remaining relative and the only person willing to take him in after the death of his parents, in very high regard and treat her with a great amount of respect and love. Well, he does treat her with a certain amount of respect, he reasons with himself...it's kind of a 'leave me alone and I won't throw a tantrum'manner of respect, but it is respect nonetheless. For the most part, she gets on with her own life and he gets on with his, only occasionally interrupting her fashionable world of cocktail parties, photo shoots and frothy coffee if he needs somebody to attend a parent's evening or help him with a math problem. He never asks her for money, because although he may only be thirteen, he still finds it embarrassing to ask her for material things (plus, he doesn't really have to ask her as she always leaves a £10 note on his bed each and every Saturday). Most of the time he saves it and stores it away in a minute, silver jar he keeps on the corner of his desk, sometimes he'll use it to buy a new book or a journal. He never asks her for more and he never will.
Idly, he lets the tips of his fingers roam across the soft, beige door trim, childishly flicking the small nub of a lock to keep himself amused. Unfortunately, the sound that this immature action emits evokes the attention of his aunt and she spins around to narrow reddish brown eyes at him.
"Ciel", she says, warningly, and although her tone would appear to be fairly soft to most people, Ciel can detect the underlying sharpness in her words, a type of warning that seems to say: don't fuck with me.
"Yes?" he replies, his voice suggesting innocence despite the fact that he maintains eye contact with her and even gives her a challenging smirk. He can see many emotions flicker through her eyes, and then he watches as she takes a few deep breaths and seems to inwardly count to ten...well, he says inwardly but if he looks closely he can just about see her lips twitching. After inhaling for a few seconds, she exhales and seems to force herself to give him an obviously strained smile.
"Please don't do that, sweetie", she begins, in spite of the fact that she already knows that he detests any term of endearment, "it's very dangerous - we don't want you to accidentally unlock the door and fall out into the road, do we?" Then, she turns around and focuses her attention on watching the hectic motorway and endless streams of traffic ahead of them.
"Well, perhaps I would find that a happy alternative to the painful boredom I am currently experiencing", he mutters under his breath, hating the fact that she talks to him as if he is a child and uses the term 'we' when it is really quite unnecessary. Although he mumbles this almost inaudibly, of course his aunt would have unnaturally good hearing, and she lets out a long, drawn out sigh at his words.
"Ciel, don't be difficult", she growls, fiddling with the buttons on the car stereo, "we'll be there soon, go to sleep or something", she suggests. As much as he would take pleasure in having a heated and noisy row with his aunt to let out some bottled-up frustrations, the 4AM start this morning has really took its toll on him, and so he obediently allows his head to loll against the car window and begins to drift off into a lengthy and dreamless sleep.
XxxX
When Ciel next opens his eyes it is nightfall and his aunt is gently shaking him awake.
"We're finally here!" she exclaims excitedly, leaning across him to unbuckle his seatbelt before he can protest that he can do it himself, "c'mon, I've just put the cases in the hallway for now but we can wait until tomorrow to unpack them, let's look around the house and then get some shuteye", she babbles, grabbing Ciel's hand and tugging him out of the warm, comfortable interior of her beloved Alfa Spider convertible (which is ,of course, painted a slick, bold red to match her personality). Aunt Angelina slams the door shut and he wraps his arms around himself protectively as he is suddenly hit by a blast of chilly night air. The dark sky is scattered with many stars that twinkle merrily, all seeming to individually wink at him. These stars illuminate the house that he will be living in from now on - which is, to be brutally honest, a complete and utter wreck. What would have long ago been a bright, clean coat of pale pink paint is now pathetically peeling and faded. Various sections of the roof seem to be crumbling and caving in an extremely sinister manner, which causes Ciel to fear for his life slightly. However, he decides that he will not – no, cannot voice his concerns, not when he looks for his aunt and is met with a flurry of high-pitched squeals and excited laughter.
"It's sooo unique and vintage, isn't it?" she says happily, letting out a dreamy sigh and giving him a warm smile. Privately, Ciel thinks that it looks like a pile of dog shit, but he wisely decides not to voice this thought aloud. In fact, his lips tingle a little and he finds that he wishes to smile back at her...his aunt's overjoyed expression fills him with a strange sense of contentment at the fact that she is happy. It's an unusual feeling, one that he's not experienced since the death of his parent's. Suddenly, the thought of his parents recreates that familiar cold and bitter feeling that often secretes in his mind, causing his entire being to be overwhelmed with self-pity and devastation – his parents are gone; as dead as the beautiful, fragrant lilies that used to bloom in their back garden, and there is absolutely nothing that he can do to bring them back. The prospect of being forever alone throws back his previous and painfully brief moment of cheerfulness, and he returns his aunt's glowing smile with a tired and defeated scowl.
XxxX
