A/N: This is a story originally written for an English class. Please, no flames, my grammar may be uncorrect as I'm not a native.

Warnings: Contains shonen-ai and minor suggestive themes. If you don't like shonen-ai, please don't read this story. The pairing is SebaCiel.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji. No money will be made of this story.

Strawberry jam

I saw cobwebs covering the old, dusty walls as I walked down the dark corridor. The air smelt stale and my steps were the only sound in the quiet cellar. How had I, the young Earl Phantomhive, got here? I only intended to take a look; I wouldn't admit that I had got lost but I didn't exactly know where I was. It wasn't my fault that the Phantomhive manor was so huge. Besides, all the corridors looked the same so it was a little hard to find the way back upstairs.

Suddenly I heard a loud 'thump' echo in the corridor. I turned around and squinted my eyes in the bright light. Someone had come in – this was my chance to get out! But before I could take the first step towards the exit I heard a deafening crash. So it was Maylene, the enthusiastic but clumsy maid of the Phantomhive manor, who had entered the cellar. She was extremely near-sighted and apparently had no sense of balance; she had probably dropped at least three jam-jars while trying to retrieve one. I cringed at the thought and hoped that the strawberry ones had been spared. There weren't too many of them left.

I hurried towards the door but Maylene had already left the cellar. I was engulfed in complete darkness again – how could I ever get out of here? Not that I was afraid of the dark but I didn't like it, either. Trying to calm myself down, I groped my way in the dark corridor and almost bumped into the wall. I tried another way but had no success; it was a dead end. There I was, all alone... And then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" I cried out in fear and turned around to see whose hand it was. I found myself staring at glowing ruby eyes and relaxed at the sight.

"I apologize, young master, it was not my intention to scare you." Although his tone sounded apologetic I could sense a smirk on his face.

"I'm not scared, Sebastian", I said and glared at my demon butler. I heard him chuckle.

"Then please forgive me for my misinterpretation, My lord."

"No need to be overly respectful", I muttered to him.

"May I ask why the young master was here in the first place? A dark cellar is surely not good for your eyesight", Sebastian enquired. I chose not to answer and remained silent, stepping out of the dark corridor while he held the door open for me. "Well, well, it is not very polite not to answer a question, now is it?" I eyed my butler for a moment and then talked.

"I wanted strawberry jam", I mumbled, hoping he wouldn't hear.

"I beg your pardon?" I didn't want to look at Sebastian; wanting strawberry jam and then getting lost in one's own cellar sounded childish. I was twelve years old, not a child anymore.

"I said I wanted strawberry jam, Sebastian. Are you happy now?" My cheeks were tinted slightly red as I answered. I heard my butler chuckle again and turned to look at him.

"You could have asked me to retrieve a jar, young master. There was no need for you to fetch one", he said. There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes and his head was playfully cocked to the side. I once again found myself gazing at his handsome face; his deep red eyes fascinated me. Part of me wanted to caress that perfect creature, to touch those jet-black stresses that framed his face, to feel the heat of his abnormally warm skin. But I couldn't – he was my butler. And a demon.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and waved my hand dismissively to indicate that the conversation was over. After all, Sebastian was busy enough without my requests for sweet food. He had three servants to look after; they were constantly causing catastrophes of some sort. It was all due to him that the Phantomhive manor still existed – without him, it would have broken down a long time ago. I often wondered how he could accomplish such a task but, as he said, "it was only natural to him as the Phantomhive butler". I should have guessed that he would say those exact words when he served me the afternoon tea. He had prepared crêpes with strawberry jam, that is.