Title: Uncharacteristic.
Author: Sun
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji
Rating: Risque
Summary: Sebastian is puzzled by his own thoughts.
Warning: Slight Smut, Possible OOCness.
A/N: My first Kuroshitsuji fic; I'm trying to break myself in slowly.
I adore watching you, young master. I watch you as you sleep and as you study. I watch you as you bathe, as you run, as you fastidiously run that empire of yours. You are definitely a sight to behold, Ciel Phantomhive.
There are some occasions where watching you displeases me immensely. You are strong, young master, and it is that strength of mind and soul that I wish to someday collect from you. You should not snivel and weep as you do sometimes; it is most unbecoming of your powerful nature.
As you sleep at night, I watch you closely, this physical form you have given me singing in response to your own. I am still unsure as to whether the reaction stems from my uncharacteristic feelings for you or the form we both chose for me to assume while in the physical world. Red eyes unblinking, I wonder if these eyes are my own – or a reflection of one whose time to spend with you ended long ago.
You stir slightly, and I relish the sound of rustling sheets and haughty moans, allowing them to fill me. A smile unconsciously spreads along my thin lips as I imagine myself letting loose upon you for once.
"Sebastian?"
I blink, the smile disappearing more quickly than it appeared as you sit up in bed, young master. You stare at me quite closely, your blue eye wide with a lack of emotion that only you could pull off. Your hair falls over your other eye, though it glows to me through the dark locks.
"Yes, young master?"
You blink at me. "Get me some water."
Something in me releases with a flurry of pride at your stern tone, despite the simplicity of your words. I bow low, the palm of my hand pressing against the opposite shoulder. "Yes, my lord." Without letting you know of my slight unsettlement, I depart from the bedroom and disappear into the darkness of the hallway.
As of yet, I am still unable to forget the way your small frame twisted in the bed just before awakening to order me about.
Someday, I will own that body, Ciel Phantomhive. Someday.