Make sure you read it in Ciel's scornful voice... Trust me it makes it ten times better!
Violet Eye
"So that's it, and now you will never leave my side?" I asked, staring wide-eyed at my reflection in the mirror that my now butler held up for me. My right eyelid wouldn't rise as high as the other, but even still I could see the intricate demon design plaguing my eye. It was harder to see out of now; everything was foggy and diluted, barely useful in my opinion.
"Yes, Young Master, the more obvious the mark, the more tightly bound we are," Sebastian, his given name by me, replied. I blinked again, feeling a droplet trace down my cheek before vehemently wicking it away.
"I have to cover it, otherwise I'll have to explain myself when they ask," I reasoned, no one needed to question me, for anything. I was the head of the house now.
"How do you suggest that, Sir?" he asked, turning his head, "Your depth perception will be sacrificed," the black haired butler replied, brushing my hair back to see his mark better. I slapped his hand away. I'd be fine. I wasn't weak; I could see with one eye if I very well pleased and no one, not even the demon could tell me different.
"I can grow out my bangs," I reasoned, pushing my hair over the discolored, violet eye. Sebastian shook his head. I made a "tch" noise with my lip and pushed the hair back. "Fine, a bandage will do then?" I suggested.
"Master Phantomhive, wouldn't that show weakness?" he asked, while setting down the handheld mirror. I blinked and rubbed my right eye with my fist before realizing that it made me look more childish.
"No," I replied shortly, running my hands through my hair. "It will show that I had a dangerous encounter. It will make me look more sinister," I snarled with a grim turn of my lip. Sebastian nodded.
"How will you succeed in intimidation with a single eye My Lord?" he questioned. I flicked my hair aside and snapped up to his muddy red eyes.
"How dare you question my authority, Sebastian?" I yelled, with my voice strained in anger. He smiled a meek grin and nodded as though he knew his bounds had been overstepped. I waved a hand at him dismissively as I wheezed another breath, feeling the scar tissue on my side tighten. He knew nothing of what I was going through. I couldn't see, I couldn't breathe and I most certainly couldn't put up with this butler's constant questioning. I set down the pen that I'd been idly fiddling with, urging Sebastian to do as I said. He came closer to my side to serve me, per our agreement.
"My Lord?" he asked, his hair falling into his face as he leaned down to match my height. I pulled my feet into the lounging position on my desk and rested my hands behind my head, taking a deep breath. I regretted doing so after feeling my bruised ribcage become sore, but even so; I did not make a sound of ache.
"Fetch me some tea, and a bandage for my burn," I insisted, waving at the door through which I intended him to exit. He placed his gloved hands at his sides and bowed lowly to ensure that I felt that he was respecting me to my fullest extent.
When the butler returned to my room with the hot earl grey he found me, needle in hand, deadly focused and red blood droplets on the perfect, lacy, white table cloth. At the sight of my all too mortal blood Sebastian rushed to my side, setting the fine china down roughly and kneeling at my right. He looked at the laced black eye patch in my hand and shook his head at my feeble attempt.
"Oh Master, how foolish of you. You must use a thimble when sewing such delicate materials," he stated rashly, taking the needle that I held with such intensity in my shaking bloodied hand. I helplessly grasped at the needle, latching tightly to the pointed end. Though I felt the needle puncture my skin I did not cry out in pain or wince. Sebastian made practiced eye contact with me as I drew my bloodied hand away from his own, leaving only watery traces of red upon his ashy skin. He reached for the tea towel to clean him then me. I refused and took back to sewing.
"I can do this myself," I said shortly, feeling my cheeks tighten as I pursed my lips at the overly helpful butler. His job was to do what I said, not to stop me from doing the things I for which I was able. Despite the pool of dark red blood beneath my left hand the eye patch looked very elegant. My mother had taught me to sew before she... before she died. Unfortunately for me, I'd never learned how to do so gracefully. That was her job. The fluidity of her movements was unmatched and the cheerful way in which she did things I could never recreate. I'd forgotten how to smile, and she'd never had the chance to teach me again.
"I can see that Young Master. That will be a lovely addition to your wardrobe," Sebastian stated neutrally, while pouring my tea with an expression of utter professionalism. I nodded curtly, looking away from him once more, attempting to focus with my one functional eye, while the lavender haze clouded my vision. I blinked a couple times to force my eye to find the edge of the black fabric once more. As I retrieved the needle from my palm and felt the pounding in the heel of my hand start up once more. As I expertly wove the needle through the fabric I felt Sebastian's eyes track my movement. I didn't dare lose my focus again for fear of Sebastian attempting to sew it for me. When I finished the lace I examined my work, it was clean enough, not the demon's caliber, but I'd wear it proudly as it was my own handiwork.
"Sebastian," I said, quietly feeling my throat hum as I uttered his name. "Tie this on," I demanded, watching him, half violet, half normal. He managed a rough smile and took the lace surrounded eye patch. It was certainly functional and classy enough to clothe an Earl. I watched as Sebastian's lithe fingers wrapped around the satin ribbon and tied it around my face. I saw the blackness engulf my right eye and felt Sebastian's deft fingers riffle through my hair. He made a small sound in his throat that sounded much like "there", but was entirely loud enough to disrupt the quiet peace of my study. I supposed I should have thanked him; that's what my mother would have encouraged, what my father would have said too, but I supposed that it didn't matter much anymore as they were no longer here.
They were gone.
I'm the head of the house now.
"May I suggest, Sir," Sebastian interrupted my thoughts, "that perhaps when you invest in more eye patches, we have a seamstress make them?" Sebastian murmured, returning his voice to the quiet hum that it had been to match the environment. I stared, one eyed at Sebastian for a long time without speaking. It took a long time for my vision to normalize. I hated to admit that Sebastian was correct, but my depth perception was hindered by the lack of use of my right eye. Even worse, my right eye was my dominant eye. It was the eye that my father had used to teach me to aim, the eye that didn't twitch when I stared at something for a long time. Now my right eye was utterly and completely useless. Sebastian said I would regain some use of the eye, minimal at best. Even so, at the current moment I felt heady. My head wobbled as I became dizzy.
I stood up to make my way to my room, reaching out suddenly to allow Sebastian to wipe the blood from my needle-pricked hand. He dutifully took the tea towel to my hand and gently rubbed the rusty stains from my hand. When I dubbed my hand clean enough I pulled away brashly and stumbled to the door. Sebastian did not reach to catch me as I fell into the door frame. Something must have hinted to him that I wanted to do this on my own. He probably thought I was bloody proud. For fear of him growing too comfortable in the Phantomhive estate, I called him again.
"Sebastian," I demanded, my voice strained as I required his assistance. He silently approached my side taking my arm and leading me through the halls.
"Goodnight Master," Finny chirped passing by cowering slightly in fear of my newly acquired menacing eye patch. Even as I clung to Sebastian's arm just to remain standing and my mind swum in waves of confusion. There was a new sense of supremacy in the air of my existence. It didn't matter that I couldn't stand on my own or that there were hundreds of tiny purple pricks in my skin. It didn't matter that I couldn't see a damn thing. It didn't matter that I didn't have parents. He couldn't even tell that every wheezing breath pained my like a million knives stabbing into my branded chest.
No.
No Sebastian, I don't think I'll have a problem with intimidation, I thought with a malevolent curl of my lip.
My first Black Butler story! I hope you enjoyed :) Remember to REVIEW, FAVORITE, FOLLOW and READ my other stories :D
