Disclaimer: I do not own any of Black Butler/ Kuroshitsuji's story or characters.
Those wandering memories of red...
Even after oh so long, that boy would still ponder on the thoughts of his dear aunt.
Her deep scarlet hair, which had been trimmed, cut, and cropped until her locks formed perfectly to her sharp attitude. She always kept the top covered with the most outrageous hats, for that flatness of her skull. Even so, the Madam diligently brushed the strands to her favor. Not one was out of place. Ciel's aunt kept looks in mind. It was an important notion to be beautiful. At least, that was how Madam Red saw it.
Men swarmed her everywhere. They bowed at her feet. Not once was she seen without that lovely aura which attracted their eyes.
Angelina was invited to all of the parties. Her popularity rose with her age, as well as her beauty. Though that legacy of her beauty did not start out, or even end, with perfection...
At her younger age, she adored that color red. Her hair. Her clothes. Anything red. Though that night, that time of Ciel's birthday, was the time at which she hated..no...despised...the color red, for those flames that scoured the Phatomhive's estate. The building which contained her love and his wife, as well as there son.
All hope was brought again though for the Madam when they found her nephew. He was the only thing left of the two people she loved most. After he came around again, that color red, didn't seem like such an evil. Even so, her madness eventually caught her by the heels...
Madam Red, a doctor, performed her precise duties, with a sort of charm. Even so, that blood on her hands, stained her mind. Tainted it with the memories of her late husband, and her unborn child. Her memories and the hate she carried for the abortions carried out because of the prostitutes, was what drove her off the edge...
Ciel missed the loving family he once had. Everything was right in the world to a child, as long as they had their family near. Ciel on the other hand, was forced to live with the corrupt hearts tainted by that color red. As did Angelina.
When Madam red held that blade above Ciel's head, that brought the realization to the Earl. His entire family, that which was left of it, was breaking, and only hanging on by a weak thread.
Even then, there was a time at which Angelina gained her sanity. That knife, the dagger, fell from her grip. She couldn't...she wouldn't, let this child go. Not by anyone's hands, much less her own! This child...This child is her...
Though before an action could be made, that sliver of hope was cut by a violent, and brutal Shinigami. One of the God's of Death. Her blood was splattered across his feet. Flashes of crimson were left before the young lord's eyes as she feel. Blood was strewn across the concrete, such as petals of roses in a garden. Even her death, had some of her beauty within it.
Although, that morbid moment still inflicted its serious pain to the boy. Not a tear was shed directly, or intentionally, by the boy as she lay in rest. His hand brushed shut the eyes which had vouched for forgiveness from a Death God. Those eyes which had met his own many times before. Her pale skin was drenched in that evening's down pour. The sorrow flooded those streets, as well as that love between Ciel and Madam Red.
During that time, at her biggest day, that black day, Ciel pondered over those memories of her. Wondered what would've happened if he hadn't have found out. She was of great importance to Ciel. Not to his own game, but to his own life. To that heart which is no longer allowed to smile.
At the moment when her nephew came up that isle, he carried with him, her scarlet gown. A perfect example of her love for red. That Death God may have claimed her to not fit in red, though this white that caressed her did not fit. A black veil in despair didn't quite suit her either. The only thing that Ciel could really have done for her, after all she had done, was to greet her with her passionately shaded, sanguine dress. That color of licorice burning in the earth. He had lain it across her while she slept inside her first, and last coffin.
Ceil's forehead gingerly pressed to her's as a last sign of affection before the shower of petals came gusting in. Ciel found it his duty to bring her that passionate, yet arrogant color she adored. Each rose petal covered the churches floor and pews, as well as the face of the Madam Red.
Lord Phantomhive wished that the last note of love he had shown for her hadn't been after her death, and also, that when he kissed her cheek, the night before the discovery, that the attention he gave wasn't drenched with the suspicion he had in her. A regret that left Ciel with more of a saddened heart then he already possessed. Even so, Ciel still cherished what he had.
Those wandering memories of red...
Author's note: I was reading the manga and for some reason, when I saw Ciel kiss her cheek, this was inspired. I'm not sure why or how, but it was. I hope you all like it and enjoyed reading it. Please tell me if you cried or smiled or anything while reading this. My goal was to leave a sort of wandering thought behind after this being read. I just hope it was good, even though it was short. For some reason, I feel as if I did get Ciel's memories and thought's correct. I just personally think I did, because I understand that feeling in a sort of less dramatic way. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it. Please review.
Love, your author,
Akiho13 =^-^=
