Ok, so more Sebastian/Mey-Rin gooey lemon! We get conflicted!Seb, strong!Mey, and some jealous... people. Muwhaahaa!

Sebastian sighed as he ran his gloved finger over the railing of the main stairs. He lifted it and confirmed what his sensitive touch and eyes told him - dirty. He lifted his eyes toward the figure responsible for the railings.

"Mey-Rin."

He watched her still at the sharp tone, or maybe at him saying her name. Sebastian took the stairs up toward the maid and brushed the small amounts of dirt off his gloves; her heavily tinted glasses would not be able to see the dirt unless he lifted her glasses, and for some unthinkable reason, Sebastian feared doing that.

"Y-yes Mister Sebastian?"

"You need to use the water and the cloth, not just the cloth."

"I… I did." She turned and looked down at her feet. There was a bucket, and she was holding a cloth, but Sebastian could clearly see that there was no water. She bent down and lifted her glasses a bit. Suddenly she stood up quickly. "I… oh. I'M SO SORRY!" she suddenly wailed.

The unending patience was constantly being summoned by Sebastian, head butler at the Phantomhive manor, and devoted servant to its Earl, Ciel Phantomhive. He could do all the jobs the three other servants did, and most often did. Why he and his young master tolerated the inept staff was fully realized when the manor was under attack, or the young master was in danger. Each of the servants - Mey-Rin, the maid; Finnian, the garden; Baldroy, the cook - were also weapons in their own ways. Ex-assassin and sharp shooter Mey-Rin, wore glasses to dampen her excellent sight so she would not notice the extraordinary things about the head butler, and other changes in the young master. Finnian was a teenager who loved the outdoors after being cooped up in a cell and experimented on. His super strength made him wonderful in battle, being able to throw thing far too heavy for ordinary humans, but was a disaster as a gardner. And Baldroy was an ex-millitary weapons specialist. His usual method of cooking usually involved a large amount of weapons involved.

"Please, do not raise your voice," Sebastian said. He hesitated and placed a hand on her shoulder. He felt the yelp and shutter go through her body even as it passed her lips. "It is not your fault."

He watched as the pink cheeks rose another shade as he talked. He groaned internally; how he let that particular shade of red effect him so was beyond even his knowledge. It had been a slow acceptance of the woman's imposed blindness and her growing admiration for him. Sebastian was accustom to the attention - both the physical and sexual longings toward him - but the clumsy maid had seemed to add her own twist to the attraction and had made even the young master comment from time to time about her increasing behavior.

Mey-Rin pulled him from his private thoughts as she nodded, her red hair bouncing slightly. "But it was. It was for sure my fault! I should have checked. I only grabbed this bucket after I thought Baldroy had filled it." She looked down and frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. "It felt rather light."

Sebastian sighed again and picked up the bucket and guided her down the stairs, overseeing her steps. The last thing he needed in his mind was another memory of how her firm body felt. Really, this is getting too much, he scolded his inner-self. You are a demon - a soul taking, hellish, demon who other demons already think has gone past his time. Cultivating a soul when one is almost starving! They would have taken the young master, and the staff too, long before now. Ah, but the meal will be so much better. He glanced at the maid as they walked down below, turning off into the washing room. Mey-Rin had stopped sputtering her apologies and had even wiped her face free of tears.

As the only female in the house, Sebastian felt bad for her. Perhaps he should ask the young master for a female companion for her. It could aid in her distress, redirect her mind, maybe she would learn her job. Rolling up his sleeves after he took his coat off, he lifted the bucket into the sink and turned on the water a bit.

"Mister Sebastian?"

He thought he heard a voice beyond him and turned, raising an eyebrow at the maid as she was standing extremely close to him. "Yes, Mey-Rin?"

"Are you mad?"

"No." And he wasn't, he realized. He wasn't mad at her, or the fact she had not double checked when she thought it was too light. He wasn't mad because, well, he finally sighed, turning the facet off, because she had been hired to protect the manor and the young master, not clean it. She was an expert in killing, not mopping. But like all things, she tried her best. Even when trying her best meant more work for him.

"Good," she said quietly. She fiddled with her glasses absentmindedly as he took the bucket in hand and turned toward the door. His hand reached for the door knob but he thought better and set the bucket down and turned toward the maid.

"Are your glasses particularly giving you trouble?"

A startled look crossed her face, what amount he could see around the rather large glasses. He longed to see her eyes.

"Y-yes, Mister Sebastian," she stuttered. Her hand stilled in adjusting them and he heard her more relaxed voice come out. It sent something deeper into his mind and body that he wished he could capture and place somewhere else. "The headaches," she muttered.

Instead he acted. He took the two short steps to close the gap between them, and lifted off the tinted spectacles. He watched, fascination driving him to stare almost, as her light brown eyes came into view. It had been awhile since he had seen them.

"Better?" he asked lightly, all his normally harsher tones disappeared in that one word.

Mey-Rin blinked and blushed, nodding and turned away a bit. Sebastian scowled; was she not happy to be seeing clearly? Was she not appreciative that his appearance was pleasant to look with her extra sharp eyesight? The anger boiling up surprised him. Why should he care? Why would a human - a woman who could shoot as well as he could tear up a body - be affecting him so?

"Look at me," he heard himself demand. A panic rose along side his anger as her eyes slid oh so slowly towards him. He watched as she looked at his chest, at her eye-level, and lifted her sight to his face. But, he noted interestingly, she did not lift her head to look up at him, like she normally did when she had her glasses on, which were delicately pinched between his right thumb and pointer, dangling in mid-air between them. No, she rather chose to look at him from under dark, full, eyelashes. The breath he held escaped his body and he stared at her, the almost human part of him fled and he felt his demonic needs rise much closer to the surface then he allowed them when she was around.

"Yes, Mister Sebastian?" her now clear, lightly Scottish accented voice hung in the air between them.

He licked his lips. He couldn't help it. Damn he wanted Ciel's soul - was bound to the boy and would execute his every boyish whim, excluding some which were beyond he felt was his duty as a butler. But Mey-Rin's one glance, one he had not seen or tried to see in a long time, unleashed his want for a different thing. A more primal part of his nature.

He wanted to consume her body.