From the Tumblr given sentence prompt: "Why are you lying to me?" This was written for one of my biggest Ao3 supporters and I am forever grateful for their comments! I'm also very thankful to all of you for support with favourites, follows, and extremely kind comments! I don't reply to everyone individually here as I can't comment on Anon comments, so I wanted to use this as my chance to thank you all for being so amazing! Xoxo
The memories never fade. They resurface anew day after day, tainting the past and bleeding into the future with a sting more profound than the blade plunged through his brother's chest. The razor sharp edges would singe everything in their wake, bringing rise to a decade old panic and further fraying already shot nerves. Nightmares plagued each moment meant for solace, causing the Earl of Phantomhive to awaken with sticky sweat soaking his brow and breaths ragged as he hyperventilated through a river of tears and silent, mournful sobs. It was torture, madness even, that he was forced to endure every night; The weight on his shoulders was unrelenting, tides threatening to pull him under and drown him despite the absence of water in the bedroom shrouded by a thick darkness. Rain fell and shattered against the window panes whilst thunder crackled and rumbled in the distance, the raging storm shredding the petals of newly bloomed flowers and splintering the branches of century old trees. The amount of damage to the garden would be immense, taking most of the day to clean up, but neither that thought nor the sound of howling wind and crying skies did anything to distract Ciel from his tormenting inner-musings, pupils blown in fear and lips parted in silent prayer. Only, he didn't pray to the god in which his parents before him worshipped, it was a muted scream to the universe for a salvation that would not come. Just one night of peace. That is all I ask.
The clicking of oxfords upon polished wooden floors echoed in the hallway, growing less faint by the second as they neared the room in which he suffered. Small hands trembled and clutched at the sheets over his lap, frantically smoothing and positioning them in hopes of hiding how mussed they had become in wake of his disquieted thrashing. He had screamed, that much was clear by the dry, rawness of his throat, alerting his ever loyal butler to his distress. He dreaded the moment that door would slide open with a creak, twin garnets catching sight of him cowering in his bed as if he were a mere toddler, whining and sniveling after a bad dream, in dire need of comfort and reassurance. He was not a child, much less one weak of mind, but even he had his limits when it came down to the burden he carried. It would forever haunt him, but that didn't mean he had to show it to the being approaching, regardless of if said presence was the one whom he often shared his bed with. As the young nobleman had predicted, two crisp knocks rang out to break apart and fill the hush; Ciel tried his hardest to quell the uneven breaths wracking his chest and hastily wipe away the slick trails painting his cheeks, disentangling his fingers from the duvet with a huff of air. "My lord, might I come in?" Sebastian's words, while posed as a question, seemed to be more of a notification than anything else as he gave no time for a response before twisting the doorknob and allowing himself entry.
It was a scene the devil had seen countless times, his master curled in on himself, quivering and yet stoically wearing a mask of calm indifference. Ah, how hard he tried to be seen as anything other than mortal. It was in the human nature to feel, to fear, but he attempted to hide it with everything be had. Didn't he know that he could protect no information from a demon's grasp? To Sebastian, he was transparent. Humans were such stubborn and fickle creatures, his contractor most of all, withholding their feelings for the sake of their pride or to spare crushing the hopes and wishes of others. As clever as Ciel thought he was to grasp his strength in a chokehold and squeeze every last ounce of life from it to remain standing tall, it was a foolish move. For eventually, everyone needs rest to remain composed and when he grew too weary, his power over his own emotions would crumble and wither away until given a chance to be released. When that happens, the situation will be made worse, not better. Immortal or not, it appeared as if Sebastian could grasp that concept more easily than Ciel. Rather, he accepted it as truth whilst the little lord denied it. The scent of salt permeated the air despite lack of tears, bearing proof that few were shed prior to his arrival. Approaching the smaller male's bedside, a candelabra was set aside to guide his way and illuminate the pale cheeks before him; The light brought Ciel's lips into focus-they were bitten raw, two miniscule speckles of blood dotted along the right corner of his bottom lips. In the daylight, as the sun rose high in the sky and Sebastian served the first cup of tea, Ciel was his master. But when the pale glow of the moon replaced the luminescence of day, whether hidden by dark clouds or as clear as a crystal fluke, formalities began to fade into something more equal. Less like a master and servant or a demon and prey, and more like century old lovers. Procuring a pristine handkerchief from the inside pocket of his coat, he delicately dabbed away the faintest hints of sanguine from Ciel's lips, eyes meeting a vast ocean of azul and violet. Previously swimming with tears, they now bore a certain darkness he couldn't entirely place. Was it hatred? For all that had been done to him and family? Hopelessness? Still searching for the objects of his revenge after all these years? Loneliness? For in spite of having someone constantly by his side, he always turned away company and comfort. A heavy sigh finally lead the immortal servant to speak, "Young master, might I ask if you are alright?" It took no answer to see that he was anything but fine, but the young lord did hate assumptions... A shallow nod was given though no words were uttered, a desperate glint in his beloved's eyes sending a searing pain straight through this darkened heart. "My lord..."
Gloves were slid from their elegant perch without the seductive tug of lips and teeth pulling them forth. Such an action was done to get a rise from his master, now was not the time. Smooth skin and onyx nails moved to comb gently through matted, perspiration-dampened locks of dumortierite, untangling the strands and soothing with light scratches atop Ciel's scalp. "Sebastian, it's okay. It is just dreams, nothing to concern yourself with." The aristocrat's naturally light and smooth baritone was hoarse and worn-through, as downcast as the weeping skies and twice as desolate.
"Why are you lying to me?"
The question caught Ciel off guard. Was his performance truly so lacklustre as to fall flat from the beginning? Though, maybe he never stood a chance in the first place. Sebastian knew him better than he knew himself. He'd seen him at his best, his worst, and everything in between. He could seamlessly pinpoint his inner-ache at any given time and wash away his fears and irritations without letting on that he noticed to begin with. The devil was sly and cunning, perceptive in every sense of the word. This would never go unseen by his watchful eyes. With their steadily growing bond, he couldn't say he was surprised that he was picking up on more and more everyday. However, this was meant to be dealt with alone, without troubling others or giving rise to worry for his sake. "I'm not lying, I just...-" Allowing no time for the mortal to continue, as he was clearly about to ramble on over excuses that held no weight, Sebastian interrupted by cupping his the silken cheek, finally bringing back its color as it was painted in a rosy blush. "Ciel," He whispered, the lack of title a breach in conduct for sure, but freely accepted in these circumstances, "Do not tell me you are okay when it obviously isn't so."
"And just what makes you think that it isn't so?" The murmured query was met with a sigh of the devil's own. Leaning into the source of condolence, Ciel's digits idly traced over the stitching at the corner of his cheeks. Such fineries still failed to keep his bad dreams at bay. He could be draped in velvet and cloaked in gold, possessing the most expensive and exquisite of fabrics and patterns to keep him safe and warm throughout the night but they would all be to no avail. These hands, however, managed to bring solace to him when no others could. It was a slight difference to his stormy aura, yet Sebastian could sense the subtle change. It pleased his master to be fawned over and cared for this way, calmed him in a way that he'd never suspected was possible. But he suffered all the same. For even with this consolation, his pain remained. It always would, it was burned deep into his soul and scarred permanently onto his skin and heart at a very young age. But that didn't mean he had to trudge through this hidden misery in solitude and perfect silence. Thick and damp eyelashes fluttered over a melancholic gaze, covering the unspoken emotions with frail skin and the lashes' ebony kiss. "Because it is written all over your face as well as your soul. Young master, you need not face this alone. Merely call for me, whisper my name if you cannot bring yourself to scream it, and I will be here to pull you back from all that you loathe and fear."
Trauma, as he'd heard many humans call it before, was no easy feat to deal with. There had been more nights than he could possibly count in the first two years of their covenant in which he was distracted from his midnight chores by the sound of screaming. His lord, so very young and tiny at the time, would scream his throat raw and wake each of the manor's residents with the agonized wails he produced. Sebastian had been the sole person allowed to go to him in those times, and throughout each anxiety filled night, the hush stifled by the sobs of a grieving child, all he could think of was how he wished for the nightmares to stop. They would not break nor damage a soul this strong, that much he knew for a fact, but they kept him from his duties, left the servants without sleep, and made the earl more irritable than a disturbed nest full of hornets or a rabid dog. But as nights grew longer and the earl aged into a young adult, the nights spent by his master's side grew fewer and further between despite the persistent replay of memories deep in the throes of slumber. He hated those nights for an entirely different reason now than he did nearly a decade ago. He genuinely cared for his charge now and was scarcely given a chance to show his support though he'd pleaded his love months prior. Ciel was reluctant to accept any form of help now, no matter if he needed it or not.
"I thank you for that, I truly do... There is no use though. They will not abate; Whether or not you are present makes no difference to them."
"But does it make a difference to you, young master?"
Thinking it over for the briefest moment, the bluenette offered a tiny nod, glancing between the crack in the heavy drapes to watch a flash of lightning illuminate the foggy grounds. No words were spoken, none needed to be for Sebastian to understand the weight behind the gesture. "Then allow me to stay and guide you through this in anyway that you believe will help you rest more serenely." A second of hesitation was wasted before Ciel pulled away from the caressing of his hair, shoving the covers from his lap before scooting aside to lie directly in the center of his bed. "Lie with me then. Do not leave my side until morning comes." A smile tugged at Sebastian's lips, his expression gentle in a way not at all befitting of a demon, as he complied. Brushing aside the clothing he deemed unnecessary for this occasion, he shed his formal attire for the button-up and trousers beneath before climbing in beside the mortal he'd claimed as his own. Without request or command, his arms looped around the narrow waist he faced. No coaxing was needed to guide Ciel's head to his chest; Sebastian watched closely as he burrowed into the warmth he emitted, fingers latching onto the front of his shirt with no hint of resitance. A fluttering kiss was placed upon his collarbone in gratitude, a sleepy groan following soon after as the body he securely held began to fully relax. With Ciel's unrelenting grip, his shirt would without a doubt be wrinkled come sunrise, but he couldn't bring himself to mind. Creases could easily be remedied, a wounded heart could not. "Rest easy, my lord, and know that I am here. And whilst I'm here, nothing can harm you again..."