Sebastian wasn't sure how long he had been able to see things that other people couldn't; all he knew was that, when his grandmother passed on, she didn't leave like she was supposed to. Six year old Sebastian still chattered on to Grandma and was kept from the funeral after he had told his mom not to be so sad because it made Grandma sad too. After years of therapy and a couple of stays in a mental asylum, Sebastian stopped talking about Grandma and she eventually went away. He missed her but, once he all mention of the kind old woman ceased, he was slowly welcomed back into his mother's love and good graces. There were still… incidences but they were quickly dismissed with threats of more therapists and asylum stays. Sebastian no longer confides in Jennifer.
Now, here he was again with another ghost.
The two males in the bedroom stared uneasily at each other and Sebastian sat himself down on his bed, well aware of the boy watching him. It wasn't the first time the living young man had spoken to a ghost from a different era; spirits were quick to realise that they could be seen by Sebastian and were usually pretty eager to communicate. Sometimes they would ask for help to move on and sometimes they would ask for a favour like revenge or finding a family heirloom long buried to give back to living relatives. It was an inconvenience but it wasn't like you had much choice when the dead bother you persistently until they have their way.
"So," Sebastian began, watching the ghost currently occupying his room, "Why are you still here?"
Those big blue eyes blinked once as confusion knitted the boys brows together. "I don't know," he replied, shifting uncomfortably, unused to eyes being on him, "How can you see me?"
The living young man shrugged, "I just can," he paused, eyeing the boy who, at second glance, seemed to be a little older than just an adolescent; despite the deceased being of a slight frame, he had a little squareness to the jaw underneath those rounded cheeks, suggesting an age more of seventeen or eighteen rather than the thirteen years that Sebastian had originally and incorrectly supposed. Perhaps early to late childhood illness or cousin- cousin inbreeding had stunted this young aristocrat's growth which was remarkably common back in the 1800's, before modern medicine and genetic research. However, the result of whatever genetics ran through this teenager's veins, so to speak, was not unappealing; Sebastian had to confess privately to himself that there was a certain beauty to the pale creature standing awkwardly by the open window, "Do you have a name?"
The spirit hesitated for a moment, "I am Earl Ciel Vincent Phantomhive," he declared with obvious pride, "This… this was my room. Is my room. This is where I died."
"Well, Earl Ciel Phantomhive," sarcasm leaked into Sebastian's tones, "I am Sebastian Michaelis and this is my room now."
That full lower lip protruded slightly in a pout as the earl glared at the living teen. The death glare may have even been threatening if it wasn't for how lush and plump those lips were and how large and round Ciel's eyes were. In fact, it just struck Sebastian as quite adorable. A smile pulled at the corners of the warm blooded male's lips despite his attempts to conceal it but the grin kept spreading.
"What?" the earl demanded hotly, infuriated by Sebastian's amusement.
Acting on impulse, the dark-haired young man stood up and made his way over to the glaring ghost, leaning in and whispering, "You're cute when you're mad."
Ghosts, as a general rule, don't have blood but something coloured Ciel's face as he blushed. He became very flustered, stepping back and nearly fell back but Sebastian caught the spirit's arm before he could topple over. Of course, this had the earl pale again as he stared at the hand gripping his arm so tightly. Perhaps Ciel would have gasped if he could breathe. As it was, his mouth was opening and closing in his mute astonishment, his eyes sliding up to meet the alive ones gazing down at him calmly. For a moment, neither moved until Sebastian helped steady the earl.
Ghosts, contrary to popular belief, are not transparent. As far as Sebastian could tell, interacting with something stuck in the veil meant being able to touch and feel it just as if they were in the mortal realm. He had often wondered if, perhaps, the reason he could interact wit the veil was that maybe he was partly in the veil himself but that would only make sense if he was in a comer or something. In truth, Sebastian had absolutely no idea what the fuck either.
"You… can touch spirits?" Ciel asked, his voice a little high.
"Yeah, I guess so," Sebastian replied as he removed his hand.
"You guess?" there was the note of disbelief in the earl's tone and he moved around the living, which was pretty peculiar because he could just walk through literally anyone else, and sat on the bed.
Sebastian was used to the shock that came when he revealed that he could touch spirits but, usually that was when he was trying to wrestle them into the afterlife. He decided to take pity on this lost soul and sat in the chair by his desk. "Look, as far as I know, my job is to help spirits move on. Usually that means helping with unfinished business or, if you're particularly violent like a poltergeist, I can sort of kick your ass into whatever is next," he explained, keeping his voice soft and reassuring, "Do you have unfinished business, Ciel?"
"I don't know," Ciel hesitated, "There was a fire. I remember… burning. I… I want to know who killed my parents. Bring them to justice if I can."
It was Sebastian's turn to hesitate. "Is this justice or… revenge?"
Those sapphire eyes locked with maroon. "Both."
