I give all credits of characters to Toboso Yana. On a side note, this is based off of the ending of Kuroshitsuji Season ll.
January 1, in the year of our Lord 1899
Beyond the quiet stillness of the ocean, there was a rampant rattling in the city. Cars, not carriages, carried people across the street. Women smiled under their brimmed hats as men signaled for taxis. Children played in the streets with their assortment of cycles and cards, staying just out of the way of thugs who were being chased by authorities. Shop keepers welcomed new customers while glancing at their pockets, and street vendors threw their wares at anyone that looked their way. It was a time of peace although the newspapers complained of the slums and homicidal rate.
No one would have guessed that two demons were being transported through the city.
"Young master, you've been looking through that newspaper quite some time now," Sebastian Michaelis, grinning under his eyes, said as the car they traveled in rattled on the ground. "Does it interest you?"
"Not in the slightest."
Across from him sat an adolescent boy, who eyed the older man before him with dull agitation. His hand perched his head on the side of the taxicab, and as one eye looked to the right to the streets of Brooklyn, the other was covered by an unmistakable black eyepatch.
Sebastian's smile grew wider. "Do you wish for me to dispose of it for you?"
"No."
"Very good, my lord."
They sat as a pair that could be easily distinguished as butler and master, although the master acted younger than he was thought to be. Nevertheless the butler performed unhesitantly for him, even going as far to dance in the streets to get money and buy the paper. Even as Ciel looked down at the parcel now he found no reason as to why he wanted it. Maybe he wanted to look like he was part of the city, or maybe an eager tourist to see the Brooklyn Bridge. Or maybe he wanted to see the humiliation brought onto his fellow companion, who had no choice but to comply with the order.
The taxicab wobbled across the road, slipping from paved to unpaved with unsteadiness. The driver up front was professional when it came to driving so there was no worries, but the celebrations of the new year always allowed for some debris to be found on the city grounds, making navigation harder. As he struggled to dodge randomly placed objects and used fireworks, he didn't have the chance to listen to the conversation behind him.
"This taxi is different than the other ones we've been in."
"Yes, it is what they call an electric taxicab. It runs on renewable energy rather than nonrenewable, such as oil or steam. Quite efficent, if I may add."
"I see…" Ciel trailed off, gazing at the scene before him. A group of boys seemed to be kicking at something. As the taxicab drove forward, it was seen to be a dirty boy in rags.
The thirteen-year-old smirked. "It seems even in the land of the free the strong bully the weak."
Sebastian followed his line of vision, repyling neutrally, "In an area of malnutrition and depression, it's easy for everyone to blame one person than to try and help the situation themselves."
"Are you saying that they're taking out their pent up rage against an innocent?" Ciel inquired, facing the butler fully with a strong gaze.
"That's exactly what I'm saying…" Sebastian said. Suddenly his dark eyes altered to a crimson red, matching those of the child in front of him.
"Young master."
They paid the taxicab driver with the leftover money from Sebastian's street performance and walked the street to find a hotel on the opposite of the ghetto. There were a few that were popular candidates, but only one allowed for animals to be brought in.
"Why did you bring that filthy stray with you?" Ciel asked irritably, shoving the cat away as it tried to rub against his boot.
Sebastian frowned pitifully and motioned for the cat to come towards him, petting it happily when it did. After a minute of mututal affection between the two he brought it up in his arms and cuddled it tight to his chest, against his black overcoat.
"I am what you'd call a sucker for kittens, my lord," He said, the smile he wore reaching through to his whole expression. "I can't help but find them…cute."
Ciel walked over to the window in their room, surveying the city below him. Smoke hung in the air from nearby factories and the sun shone palely through, a faint glow against the clouds. The windows hinges could be unlocked and the window opened, therefore allowing an easy way of throwing out the cat. He pondered this idea but dismissed it after feeling a rumble in his stomach.
Covering the sound up with a cough, he ordered Sebastian to find him something edible in this godforsaken town. They both smirked at the word and the butler left, along with his new pet.
After a while of standing still and staring at his new place, Ciel went downstairs and strolled around the nearby streets to find a place for him to be in society.
It's natural for humans to want to be with other humans. Isolation is the greatest cruelty.
He spotted a tea shop at the edge of so-and-so that converged with so-and-so and decided to get something there. As he walked in he kept his head low as to avoid eye contact with others, and settled into a table right next to the serving counter. No, it was just the counter; the place was no bigger than the Phantomhive mansion's dining room and had even less quality of the room's few but exquisite furniture.
Are all places in New York so small? Ciel thought, thinking back to the miniscule size of his temporary living quarters and the space in the taxicab they drove in. More than millions of people lived in this city, yet the places they could go to weren't even a hundred square feet…
"Good evening, sir."
Ciel glanced up and came face to face with a snow-haired woman, looking to be in her early 20's. She smiled down at him with a commercial grin. She opened deep blue eyes to meet his and he saw a dark undertone hidden beneath them.
"What would you like?" She said, her hands cupped together.
"I'll have some Earl Grey tea."
She bowed. "Right away, sir."
Ciel stared after her, but not for the reason of her sad eyes. He had viewed plenty of those during his lifetime and demontime. It was her white hair and blue eyes that attracted him, set him on edge, per say.
Angel…
Sights of the corrupted warrior from heaven filled his vision, reverting him back to the days of chaos. Fire chased London playfully, lightly brushing past buildings only to light them into an inferno and set fire to victims caught inside or out. The fire didn't care what status you had or what possessions you held. What truly mattered was whether your clothes were flammable or not.
But when the waitress came back, she didn't smile in the calm and kind way Angela and Ashe did. Rather she smiled like one would do as a friend to those affected in a funeral. It was so dull and sorrowful that Ciel had to hide his surprise by narrowing his eyes at her. She set down the teacup and plate for him, and glared back.
"If I wanted to be glared at, then I'd flip a table and blame it on the customer," She hissed, and then returned swiftly to a carefree, feigned grin. "Enjoy your drink, sir."
There was nothing for Ciel to say; he was so shocked and taken aback he didn't know what to do. Should he throw the cup to the ground, let it break into a million thousand pieces, and watch as she cleaned it up? Should he leave and let the tea go cold? Ideas ran through his mind, and he decided to go with the simplest way to make her pay for acting so impolite to him.
Slowly, he rose from his chair and stepped over to the counter, setting down the tea brought with him. What he saw ahead of him was a simple, open kitchen that consisted mainly of kettles and stoves. Nothing looked dirty and nothing looked clean. The girl appeared from the left door of the kitchen, not noticing his presence until he spoke up.
"Oi, waiting girl!"
It was a crass way of calling someone, he knew, and was certainly below his way of addressing people, but the girl didn't deserve his respect. He was a freelance traveler while she was a mere waitress, bound to work for the lower class and comply to their wishes.
The woman half-walked half-trumped over to him, an annoyed look in her eyes as she struggled to smile at him. Ciel noted that their was almost no difference in their heights, if only a few inches that were given to her.
"Yes, sir?"
Ciel pushed the cup towards her, an instigating flash in his smirk.
"This tea tastes like the sewers underneath the most rural part of Paris, and smells even of the animals that reside there. I demand a full refund and apology."
The waitress's smile widened, and she tapped the top of the teacup handle. "Why don't you take this handle…and shove it up your ass? How's that for a reimbursement?"
Once again, Ciel was appalled. He immediately felt a wave of anger come over him, and was prepared to slap the wench when he felt a familiar white glove settle on his left shoulder.
Sebastian smiled politely at her, despite the bad atmosphere between her and his master. "Please excuse my master, he is one who likes his manners to be as good as his tea."
The woman looked as stunned as Ciel was. "My manners-?"
"Come, young master, let's leave this place before it gets too dark," Sebastian suggested, beginning to lead him out when Ciel slapped his hand off of him.
Angling his visable eye up, Ciel retorted, "I decide what I do or don't do, so don't chose for me." He glimpsed back at the girl, imprinting the image of her into his mind. "Excuse us, we'll be taking our leave. You can keep the tip."
"Tip-?" She was obviously still winded, and when her eyes glided over to the table where the former earl sat she froze. The exact amount for the tea was placed on it, plus another dime for her waiting services. She heard the front door close and watched as the two mysterious people walked through Brooklyn back to their hotel.
"You were lucky to get away with it this time, Lucy, but make sure that it never happens again," An overweight man in a tight tuxedo huffed, putting his hands on his sides. "We can't lose customers over your clumsiness."
Lucia Stephensen nodded frantically, saying, "Yes, sir, I'm awfully sorry about today."
"Good. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Of course, sir…now may I please take the leftover bread with me home?"
At this, the boss's stern face softened. "Go ahead, but make sure that you don't get mugged."
Lucy promised she wouldn't and collected the food into a basket, covered by a white tablecloth. She left the tea shop from the back entrance and flowed through the streets, taking an abrupt stop in the middle of a dark alley. She knocked on an old-fashioned door and waited patiently for an answer, holding the whicker basket with two hands.
The door opened and a middle-aged woman came out, her apron messy with dirt and who knew what else. She smiled at the younger woman warmly.
"Ah, Lucy! I see you have quite a load there, and it's getting dark. Do you want to come in and rest a moment? I know that you're tired, dear, just from looking at the bags under your eyes. I'm not saying that you're not pretty of course! In fact, you're beautiful, more beautiful than one of those sirens in the seven seas—"
"Berka," Lucy interrupted, holding up the basket to her, "I really came here to drop off this for the orphanage. I'd really love to stay, but I don't want my valuables-which are at my apartment-to be stolen overnight."
"Yes, of course…" The keeper whispered, taking the basket from her with a careful hand.
Lucy began to backtrack and go back to her place when Berka's voice called her back. She felt an itch of irritation and frowned, clamping her teeth together. Nevertheless she went back and listened to her urgings.
"The children haven't seen you in a long time, you know…"
Yes, that's because they hate me.
"…you get along so well with them…"
They're the only ones that can see through me, so why bother trying to?
"…and honestly, it gets a bit lonely being the only grown-up in the house." Berka chuckled sadly at this, and then sighed heavily.
Lucy smiled dejectedly at her and patted her shoulder. "You're strong, I'm sure you can get through the night." You're more selfish then you realize you are, old hag.
"Alright, you really are a sweetheart." Berka brushed off her hand softly, and stepped back to grab the doorknob. "I hope you have a good night, Lucy."
"You too, Berka."
The door slammed shut, mostly in part because of the wind. Lucy glanced at the emptiness in her hands and rubbed her fingers together, feeling the usual hardness on her left thumb. She ignored this and pressed herself out of the alley, the swirls of the wind pounding against her as she walked alone back to her apartment.
Turning right, left, right, and right again she was finally able to make it into the alley where the entrance to her apartment complex lay. She wrapped her heavy coat around her and breathed out white smoke, watching it appear and disappear at the blink of an eye.
She was in the middle of the alley when she heard him call her out again.
"Lucy Stephensen!"
Lucy stopped in her tracks. All thoughts of falling into the warmth of her bed wisped away and was replaced by the sudden desire to find somewhere to hide.
Boldly, she squinted her eyes to see the man she had served a few hours earlier. The boy's coat was blowing behind him, and he had a dangerous smirk covering his features. Lucy felt a rush of fear flow through her but then shook her head. This kid was what, ten? There was no reason for her to be scared of him.
But he could be…
No, Lucy shook her head inwardly, that was impossible. That was all magic, in the past.
The boy stepped closer to her. She stepped back. He stepped forward. She stepped back. She wanted to ignore the boy's presence and take it as a strange mental disorder, but the way he smiled at her was so…malevolent. Just staring at it made her skin crawl—no, made her skin dash.
"What do you want with me, kid?" She spat, trying to sound heated although she was trembling inside.
"You've insulted me not once, but twice."
"So?"
"So, since you never apologized or repaid me for it…" The next step he took echoed around the buildings and reverberated in Lucy's ears. "I have no choice but to kill you for it."
Lucy stopped her retreating, looking up at him with a mixture of disbelief and humor.
"You?" She scoffed. "You're going to kill me? Some shorty who can barely turn a door without a stool?"
"My name is Ciel Phantomhive, previously Earl Phantomhive," Ciel growled, and as Lucy watched in horror his eye color changed from the deep blue of hers to a deep red of…
A demon.
Seeing the look on Lucy's face, Ciel's sneer broadened. He took one more gentle step on the paved road and then he sprinted forward with a knife in his hand. He lunged it at Lucy, pointing it directly toward the side of her abdomen. Lucy's mouth opened for a scream but nothing came out. He focused all of his energy on the kill shot when suddenly he felt the weapon slip out of his hands. It flew into the air, glinting from the moonlight and dropping to the ground a few feet before them. Ciel was about to get it when he realized his prey was running away into the open streets, trying to escape.
"Sebastian!" Ciel said, getting up to stand on two feet.
Sebastian emerged from the shadows, a hand over his chest. "What is it, young master?"
Ciel placed a hand over the string of the eyepatch, tugging on it so hard it was yanked off. Underneath a lighted pentagram shined brightly on his iris, although it didn't illuminate the surrounding night around it.
"This is an order: bring that woman to me, alive!"
Sebastian smiled and gradually knelt before him, his arms unmoving even as he got lower to the ground.
"Yes, my lord."
He then jumped high into the sky, landing on the roof of a building. He raced across said roof, exaiming the ground below him for the sight of the white-haired girl…She would be easy to see with such light shaded hair. He spotted her running across the main street to another, smaller street, a hand clutching a dagger. So that's how she was able to defect my young master's attack…
Without warning he leaped to the ground, making the cobble below him break slightly from the unexpected pressure. He sprinted forward towards her direction, and caught a glimpse of her looking back at him. Her pupils seemed to dilate as she looked at him, and she picked up speed as she ran. Sebastian did the same and was about to hurdle towards her when he looked up above the girl and saw where she was heading.
A cathederal hung in the distance, it's middle cross puncturing the moon. It looked completely abnormal among the more vertical built buildings, and had a contrasting color of white rather than the usual dark tone.
Just as Sebastian had taken the second to look at the church, Lucy had pounded on the door for help.
"Please, reverend, let me claim sanctuary here," Lucy pleaded to the baffled member of the Clergy, who had come out almost immediately, "I beg you!"
The reverend still showed an expression of utter disbelief as he nodded for her to come inside, mostly because he had just caught sight of the reason why she wanted to stay overnight. A man was running towards them, and was going so swiftly that dust was left behind him.
The man of faith closed the door as fast as he could.
Sebastian halted where he was, a few feet from the entrance. He took a deep breath and straightened himself as he gazed through one of the windows. The girl was now being led away by the priest, probably into the church's living quarters.
"Why not follow her?" Ciel questioned, now standing beside him.
"When someone claims sanctuary, we demons cannot enter."
"What an idiotic ideal."
The butler glanced down at his young master. The boy was taking a step forward, but right before he went past the invisible boundary line he took his foot back.
Ciel spun around on his heel, saying over his shoulder, "We'll find her later. She has to leave the church sometime. And when she does…"
He glanced back to look directly at the cross atop the cathederal, his demon eyes mixing with hues of white, pink, and red. "…I shall kill her."
Sebastian smiled and crossed his arm over his chest. "Yes, my lord."
January 2, in the year of our Lord 1899
Lucy had meant to stay over the night, but she hadn't meant to have a confrontation with the reverend.
"I know that you have sanctuary here, Ms. Stephensen, but I would like to know why you want it," He explained, moving a holder of ink to the side. Lucy stared at him indifferently from the other side of the desk. He could tell the girl was thinking of what to say, and therefore put into practice the tedious work of patience.
The girl was not a girl at all. She was exactly twenty-three, and even shared an apartment with a large Italian family. Her height was what most deceived people, that along with her clumsiness and personality. Every person that he talked about her with had said she was cheerful and caring, even giving away the extra bread to feed the orphans down at the orphanage. She was a sort of saint that was cursed with poverty, they said, and that they'd hope that she get a good husband one day.
Lucy Stephensen had not come to any service.
As one who needed to accept people no matter what their beliefs, Reverend Young couldn't help but find this odd. She sounded like was one of faith, yet even as she studied the multiple crosses around the wall and the bibles on the shelves there was no spark of devotion. Not even a glimmer.
Lucy could feel the man in front of her trying to prob into her mind, and she inwardly smirked. So many had tried to destroy her false mask but all had failed. The only reason she was here now was to escape him—Ciel Phantomhive.
There was no mistaking him as a demon. The way he carried himself and his eyes proved that. She cursed herself for not being more wary of the boy, taking note of him sitting by himself and acting so rude. Now he wanted to kill her, just because she insulted him.
Suck it up, this isn't the Queen's land anymore, you little brat, she thought irritably, remembering that he had a distinct English accent. That and an eyepatch over one eye…what a strange kid, to be a demon and have partial eyesight. It almost made her pity him.
But why would I do that? He was the one who tried to stab me, and if it hadn't of been for my reflexes I would be lying in the street, dead. He even sent that dangerous butler after me, who had the same eyes—
Wait.
"Please excuse me, Reverend Young, do you have any books on witchcraft here?"
Reverend Young looked at her in astonishment. "Books of sorcery…in a church?"
"Well?"
"They're in the cellar, take a left and go down the stairs."
Lucy smiled and thanked him, chuckling as she walked through the halls of the church. Funny how a place that banned magic had books that taught you to do so below the foundations. She stepped quietly down the stairs, however, so that no other attendants could discover her. It would be a bit troublesome to explain the task she wanted to perform.
The church's undergrounds was damp and dark, similar to a torture chamber. Lucy swept past wooden tables on short legs and dripping lighted candles to a bookshelf on the wall, objects of knowledge barely kept from falling. She ran her finger across their bindings until she found the one with the title she thought most suitable, Satan's Creatures and The Like.
Carefully, she placed it on a table and sat down in it accomodating chair. Dust was piled through it's pages as she ran through them, and she forced herself not to cough out loud. Finally, one page caught her mind.
"If a foolish and incompetent mortal wishes to make a job of impossibility become possible," She read aloud, narrowing her eyes at the small text, "they may make a binding contract with the devil's helpers, otherwise to be known as the demon. The sign of this contract is to be seen as a pentagram and can be found on any part of the body…however, once the mortal's selfish desire is completed, the binded demon will take their soul and devour it."
Lucy chuckled darkly, "What a way to end your life…" She then frowned. "But Ciel Phantomhive is a demon himself, and it says that only mortals can make contracts with demons—"
A clattering noise from the opening to the cellar startled Lucy from her spoken thoughts, and she looked at Reverend Young, who was busy picking himself off the floor.
Lucy felt herself narrow her eyes, but she instead opened them to an innocent stare.
"Reverend, were you eavesdropping on me?"
A guilty blush appeared on the holy man, and he replied, "Yes, and I'm very sorry about doing so. It's just that you were taking so long that I couldn't help but search for you."
Lucy had already closed the book upon realizing he was there, and she put it back in its place before walking over to him. He was exceptionally taller than she was, and she used this to make her look weak and needy.
"It's alright, but I need to know…"
"How to deal with demons?"
She nodded frantically, adding tears to the edge of her eyes. "I'm scared they'll kill me, or steal my soul."
"I see," He mused, tapping a finger against his lower lip. "I've heard of some ways to protect yourself against demons. Do you carry a cross with you?"
Lucy nodded and reached through her waitress outfit to pull out a black string with a wooden cross hanging from the bottom of it.
"Good. Another thing you can do is put salt around your bed and hold a bible to your chest as you sleep." As the reverend explained this, he wondered whether or not he should tell her that these precautionaries were nothing less than rumors rather than actual practices. On the other hand, seeing the receding fright in her face he couldn't bring himself to do so.
Lucy sighed heavily and clung to him in a sort of hug. "Thank you, reverend, I will do that right when I get home. But what of when I'm out in the open?"
Reverend Young caught himself in her puppy-eye gaze again and felt himself melt. "Then you must trust in God," He whispered to her, patting her head gently with his hand.
The woman nodded, backing up and walking past him to go up the stairs. They strolled through the cathederal, and he gave her one of the churches spare bibles. When they got to the main room of worship, sunlight was already filtering through the glass windows depicting biblical scenes. Lucy thanked him for letting her stay the night, the advice he gave her, and the Bible. Reverend Young told her that it was his pleasure to help her out through this time of need, and if she ever needed an exorcism down she could count on him.
"Just remember that as long as you have faith, you'll be protected against the devil's servants," The man added to her before she left. "I advise that you stay where you are here in Brooklyn, because that is the greatest defiance you can have against the evil one."
"Yes, reverend, I will," Lucy promised with a smile. He nodded maturely and then closed the door to the church.
She spent the rest of the day at the tea shop, scanning the streets for another appearance by the boy and his butler. In truth she was curious about their relationship, but the fear of being killed stopped her from seeking out answers. So instead she acted like normal, smiling fakely at those who would normally not recognize her existence, crashing down on the floor so men could look up at her bloomers, nodding sadly when she heard about the recent tragedies, and coming close to crying when a couple left a larger tip than usual.
After all of this she waited for her boss to be done and leave. When he was gone she came out of the closet she was hiding in and shuffled through the cash register. Very delicately she placed a couple of dollar bills in her apron, adjusting them so that they wouldn't fall out or be seen. Once done she left and went to her apartment, where she was greeted with three to five children of the same parents. The parents greeted her in their vague English, begging her to stay for dinner.
"I'm sorry, but I have something to do near the docks at Fifth Avenue." Lucy fixed her dress as she talked, grabbing her purse and key.
"Alright, Lucy, but we're gonna see ya at'a later time, 'kay?"
Lucy smiled at the couple that was in their early fourties, dressed in a dirty work uniform and apron. They're hair was in disarray but their smiles weren't. They were genuine, and held the ferocity of the American spirit in them. The two had come with their kids three years ago from Italy and had begged to stay with Lucy, saying that they didn't want their offspring growing up in the deprived areas of Brooklyn. Lucy was about to throw them out when the wife offered to make dinner for her every day, regardless of the economy or their pay. This made the twenty-year-old agree, although she was rather reluctant. Over the years the brunette Italians had shed off most of their accent, although they still had that jumpy way of speaking. Generally they were kind and giving, although they became loudly drunk and idiotic at night. Free food was free food, though, and Lucy was served to it every night, no exceptions.
"Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Russo."
The chilling air and heartless wind buffeted Lucy as she trudged to the marina, and as she reached the place she could see the waves sloshing up and down hazardously. She went up to a ferry ship and looked for a stand. The stand she saw was decorated with patriotic banners and the like, with the worker sleeping on his elbow.
With a smack of her hand on the ticket counter she woke him up.
"Huh, huh?" The man glanced around wildly, his handlebar moustache shifting slightly from left to right. "Whose that there? I swear if you're a teen looking for some money, I'll smack you down—"
"Sir."
The man looked straight ahead to find a pretty, white-haired woman standing in front of him. Her sapphire eyes flashed with impatience but her smile was tender.
"When does the ferry leave January Fourth?" She asked, pointing to the empty spot on the river.
Blinking in surprise and moving with snail-like speed, he brought up the shipping agenda and flicked through pages. Lucy pinpointed his age to be at 65, way past his prime and close to losing his mind. It would be easy to manipulate him into giving her free tickets, but she already had enough to buy them so there was no need to.
"At 3:30 past midday," He smacked his dry lips whilst saying so.
"I'd like one ticket, please."
"Ah, of course," the man remarked as she gave him the money, "and where will ya be headin', if I may ask?"
Lucy smiled as she took the ticket. "I believe that's none of your business, sir."
Later that night when she got back to her apartment, she went straight to the kitchen and pulled out the salt shaker. One of the children was sleeping on the middle counter, and she meticulously put a blanket over him before going back to her room. She sprinkled the salt around the perimeter of her bed, making sure that it made an entire boundary.
The salt shaker was placed on the nightstand when it was done being used and Lucy settled into her bed, pulling the cover over herself after changing into her nightgown. Soon she fell asleep and dreamed of demons slashing at her neck for a feast of blood.
"Lucy?"
Lucy gasped and gripped the dagger in her hand, preparing to strike it down on the intruder. Her panic attack was ceased when she realized it was one of the Italian children. They looked at her, terrified, and gulped.
"U-um…I just wanted to'a thank you for putting the blanket over me."
She relaxed, loosening her grip on the weapon. "No problem. Now get back to bed, you don't want your parents to get worried about you, right?"
"They never worry about us, though," The boy cut in, "they only want us because it's a family tradition to have lots of kids."
"Oh yeah, and who told you that story?"
The boy pointed a short, chubby finger at her. "You did, signorina."
Lucy frowned in puzzlement but then shook her head. "Well, get back to your parents so you don't get eaten by a demon, then."
"Are you that demon, signorina?"
The question took her unexpectedly, and at first she didn't know how to respond. This one is smarter than the others, she mused, considering him for the first time. What was his name again? Oh yes, Timothy. Timothy Russo, an American-Italiano name. He didn't stand out much against his siblings, although his hair did look a bit curlier, and he didn't act much different than them. Perhaps if she had taken a little longer time with the Russo's she could have gotten to know him better and not label him a brat like the others. There was no time for regrets though. There almost never was…
"I'm not," Lucy reassured him, ruffling his hair with the hand that previously held the Bible. "Now go back to bed, or I won't buy you any sweets."
Upon hearing the magic word the boy's face lit up. "Sweets? Really?"
"Yes, but you can't tell the others."
Timothy hugged her arm. "Oh thank you, signorina, thank you!"
The little boy flashed her one more brilliant smile then left, skipping out of her bedroom. Lucy felt like smirking at him, but couldn't bring herself to. You don't realize that you'll never get those sweets.
"Oh well," She shrugged, laying down and closing her eyes for the second time, "it's about time he figured out that the world isn't made of leprechauns and rainbows."
Please feel free to review or point out any mistakes I may have made. Thank you for reading.
