Let me tell you a story. A story in which a certain Earls life is turned around. A story where a butler keeps secrets. A story that will change everything.
"Sebastian!" I shout loudly, my fingers impatiently tapping on my wooden desk. Now really isn't the time to be testing my patience Sebastian. I slam my hand down on my desk, my self-control wearing thin. I might as well drag him up here myself. I stare at the door, waiting for that demon to appear. I ring the bell again and again and again, hoping he will get annoyed and hurry up already.
Just as I opened my mouth to shout out for him, I hear three knocks on my door. "Finally" I mutter. "Well, come in." I lean back in my chair, rocking on its heels. I pick up the fountain pen and tap it on the desk, becoming more and more irritated with every second that ticks by.
He walks through the door casually, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back in a bun. That's strange for him; he doesn't wear his hair back often.
"You called, young master?" He asks, looking at me in my chair. His eyes land on my fingers, on the pen I'm playing with, and smirks. Smug bastard. He waits expectantly.
"What took you so long?" It's not so much a question than it is an accusation. But it doesn't faze him. Nothing does.
"I was working." He states smoothly.
"That's very vague. What were you doing?"
"If you really want to know, I was elbow deep in blood and insides, gutting a pig for tomorrow's supper. But I thought it would be best to not let you see the intestines on my hands, so I needed to clean up. Apologies young lord." He explains. I didn't think that he did that work, I just assumed…
"Never mind that." I dismiss, standing up. But when I stand, my vision goes a little blurry, and I wobble slightly. I steady myself on the desk, and blink a few times.
"Young master? Are you alright?" He asks, stepping towards me. I wave him off.
"I'm fine. Just a little dizzy is all. I've been sitting for a very long time" He nods, watching me a little closer. I walk over to my bookshelf and grab my copy of Sherlock Holmes.
"I want something to eat; Sweets. A cake to be specific. Anything is fine, really. Perhaps something newer though. I've had far too much gateau chocolate and raisin and apple deep pie." I tell him, eyeing my paperwork in front of me. Apparently Sir Richard wants me to come celebrate the birth of his second child. The manufacturer down town also needs my approval for a new candy they've created. It sounds good, a deep fried wafer covered in chocolate and caramel. I lick my lips, swallowing back the saliva pooling in my mouth. Signing the papers, I hand them to Sebastian. "And take these to the post, mail them by today. I can't have business backing up." I tell him, leaning back in my chair. I grab my book, and begin skimming through the pages, glancing up when I hear the door close behind Sebastian. I quickly set the book down, and open up my bottom drawer. I pull out a picture frame, and set it on my desk.
Mother. Father. She sits down in the chair, hair pulled back, and a lovely lilac dress on. He stands behind her, hand on her shoulder. They both look so beautiful together, they look happy. I exhale harshly, trying to keep calm. My eyes sting and I can feel tears forming at the back of my eyes. I blink a few times, trying to get rid of them, but they only fall to the floor. They drop onto the hard wood flooring, leaving splatters of water behind. I stare at my mother and father, crying silently. How weak I am, crying over the death of somebody. But, after all, it is their anniversary. Which means it's also my birthday. I can't believe it's been eight years. Eight years without a mother or father. Eight years of having to pretend like I'm a grown up. Eight years alone. No family. They're all dead.
What's the use in doing this every time. I thought it was supposed to get better. I thought people move on from loss and death. My breathing becomes labored, like someone is stepping on my lungs. I struggle to take in a breath, as the water streams down my face and on to my trousers. It feels like im drowning. I can't take a breath. I choke, and let out a strangle cry. My lungs burn for air, the edges of my vision going dark. What's happening to me? I stand up, staggering at the rush of blood to my head. I trip and hit the top of my desk, the few papers that it held floating to the floor. The picture frame goes crashing to the floor. It feels as if invisible hands are gripping tight on my throat. I lean against the desk, feeling so light headed I might pass out.
Then it suddenly goes away. My trachea opens up and air funnels down in to my oxygen deprived lungs. Relief fills my body as I suck in the much needed gas. My head is pounding, but over the sound of the beating I hear Sebastians footsteps coming down the hall. I quickly gather the papers that had fallen off the desk and throw them on to the table, straighten myself up and sit down in my chair. I can't let Sebastian know about this. It'll only make him worry, and I won't hear the end of it. He'll have me poked and prodded with who knows what. I grab the photograph off the floor, wincing at the large crack that made itself down the middle of the glass from the fall, and hide it underneath all the documents, shutting the drawer. I pick the book back up, the only thing that hadn't moved, and start reading at a random spot, taking a deep breath to calm myself. I close my eyes, hoping he won't be able to tell of what just happened.
The door swings open, and in comes Sebastian pushing a trolley with my sweets on it. It's covered up, but I can smell the aroma of the food and my tea. He looks at me, and for a brief second his eyebrows scrunch together. But it's gone as quickly as it came, the break in appearance gone.
"I have prepared something extra special for today my lord. I found the recipe in the back of the cellar, and I have to say it looked delicious." He tells me. "I made you a fluffy white cake, covered in strawberries and cream. The recipe said it is shortcake of some kind. And with it, White Darjeeling Tea. The slight peach flavor will compliment the dessert nicely." He finishes his summary of the meal, and smiles at me. But I can't focus. My vision is going blurry, and I can feel my throat closing off again. No no NO! Not again, not in front of him. I try to stay calm, to ignore the pain of the weights on my chest, but I start gasping for air, my mind going blank. It's worse this time, the thumping in my head deafening.
"Master Ciel? Is something wrong?" Sebastian says quietly. Im hiding the pain as best I can but it becomes too much. My body slumps forward, propelling me out of my chair. I don't hit the hard floor like I expected, but strong arms. My eyes are wide open, but unseeing. I hear Sebastian calling for me, calling my name, and then everything goes black.