Chapter Seven
Fabled

Monday, 7.12 AM

I roll out of bed and stumble over to the wardrobe, robotically pulling on my school uniform.

THE ST. CHARLES SCHOOL UNIFORM
Every girl wears a fitted black blazer, a short grey skirt and a sapphire ribbon tie around the collar of a snowy white blouse.

The only thing different about my uniform is a sneaky leather holster attached to my midnight blue thigh high socks, hidden by my skirt. It holds a slick, silver pistol.

But the loaded death device does not feel unnatural, slung against my thigh. For the last five months it has simply been a necessity: something in which Ciel Phantomhive insisted upon. Just in case.

I sling my long, dirty blonde hair over to one side and tease it into a plait. I tie my brogues and grab a satchel, throwing in the needed books for today. I cringe at my English book, knowing that I will have to face Sebastian for a whole hour today at least. I try to shove my art journal into my bag too, but it's too big. I sigh and resort to carrying it instead as I make my way down the corridor.

When I enter the kitchen, three other servants are already there. Maylene is buttering some toast, Finny is eating a bowl of Cornflakes and Bard is...well...

"Bard, what are you doing?" I ask, as the blonde haired man takes a bag of bagels and a flamethrower out of the cupboard.

"Oh, err - " he stumbles, hiding the device behind his back, "nothing, Skye, nothing..."

I chuckle as I help myself to a slice of toast and a cup of tea. The flamethrower disappears back into the cupboard, along with its family of countless other destructive tools.

The rest of the servants do not go to school, as Ciel feels it unnecessary ("what would they learn that would be of any use to me?"). Instead the Earl simply lets us borrow books from the library, if we so desire to learn in our (very little) free time. I only attend school for his sake.

Then something hits me. Will Sebastian still go to school? If Ciel already has me then...

"Good morning," a pleasant voice reaches us from the doorway.

Sebastian Michaelis walks into the room, clad in a black blazer, navy tie, waistcoat and black trousers; the typical St. Charles uniform. Why do I feel such a sense of relief? I frown to myself. Surely the fact that he is still attending school should make me annoyed...but it doesn't.

"Good morning, Sebastian" the other servants mumble as he pours a glass of orange juice.

Finishing off my toast and downing the dregs of tea, I pick up my satchel and bid the others a good day. I make my way up the stone steps, out of the basement of a kitchen and into the corridor. I go out the back door and walk along the path to the front of the house, where I sit on my usual bench to wait for Ciel.

The Young Master only permits me to call him Ciel when in the presence of other students, so that we may keep up the pretence that we are family. I laugh to myself at the obscenity of it – us, related? What a joke. But people believe it.

I have come out to wait for him far too early, but I don't mind. I lean my head back and let my face bathe in the morning sunlight. Sinking into my Dream Land, I allow a sense of tranquillity to wash over me for one minute...two minutes...three...four. I'm almost asleep, until I hear something...A noise? What is -

I pull out my pistol and dig it into the neck of the figure looming over me. My senses are immediately awoken, and every nerve is tingling. My fingers rest on the trigger as my eyes adjust so I can see the attacker's face. I gulp.

"Oh come now, is this how you treat all of the servants?" Sebastian Michaelis asks pleasantly.

"Are you trying to get yourself shot?" I snap, thrusting the gun back into its holster.

"Are you trying to get yourself caught?" Remarks Ciel Phantomhive, staring down at me in distaste. He too is dressed in the St Charles attire.

"Of course not, my Lord." I apologise through gritted teeth, which earns a smirk from Sebastian. I act like the whole situation is already out of my mind, and begin to walk down the lane to school. The others follow.

After walking for a few minutes, Ciel breaks the silence.

"We shall have to come up with a suitable reason as to why Sebastian is walking with us." he says, troubled.

"Can't he be our cousin?" I ask.

"No...The school would find out. We can't just change his family record."

"A friend?" Sebastian suggests.

Ciel stays quiet for a few minutes, as though pondering the roll. Then, a smirk curves his features, and he slowly looks directly at me: "Or...a boyfriend".

I almost choke on my own saliva, "I don't see how that's necessary," I say bluntly.

"Yes my Lord, I too do not see the convenience..."

"Why would a 'family friend' walk us to and from school every single day?"

Sebastian and I both remain silent, subtly glaring at each other. Ciel remains oblivious and continues voicing his plan.

"A boyfriend, however...That is a different story. Sebastian is simply so in love with Skye, that he feels it compulsory to ensure that she remains safe to and from school. It also works out well because it explains why Sebastian is suddenly hanging around with us between classes."

I silently fume, because Ciel has made an incredibly valid point, and I can think of no other alternative. Ciel flashes me a fake grin. Is he tryingto make my life a living hell?

Oh wait...Yes, yes he is.

.

As we come to the outskirts of the forest, Ciel murmurs "Skye, Sebastian...At least try to act convincing." And I look over at the latter, resentment burning my eyes. He simply smiles pleasantly and grabs my hand, entwining our fingers.

My heart suddenly lurches at his touch, and I feel heat rush to my cheeks. I've never been touched so...affectionatelyby a boy before. Well, I've never really been touched by a boy, period. Sebastian smirks down at me.

As we walk across the school grounds, I feel everyone's eyes bore into us. From what I gathered on my first day here last week, Sebastian is not exactly unpopular at school. He's the sort that every girl fantasises about, but would never dare to actually date. I suppose his creepy, dangerous persona probably accounts for that.

But he is handsome, I grudgingly admit. Then I turn away, disgusted with myself. What is wrong with me today?

I take a deep breath and try to ignore the death glares I am receiving from dozens of jealous girls. I feel everyone's judgments on every part of my body and make a conscious effort not to cringe away.

"My, my, seems like this will cause quite a stir," Sebastian remarks, and hooks his arm around my waist, pushing me closer to him. I feel the hatred from the onlookers intensify, and shoot him a scowl.

"Watch it," I growl a warning into his ear, disguising it with a smile and a nuzzle against his neck.

He replies by smiling pleasantly, and carrying my art journal for me.

.

Each period goes by relatively uneventfully. I sink into my Dream Land and simply daze my way through each lesson.

For fourth period, I stand outside the art studio. This is only my second day back, (Ciel insisted that I start on a Friday: "get all of that new-kid business out of the way quickly, rather than have it drag out over a week.") so I haven't had an art class yet.

"Goo~d morning, students!" a feminine, sing-song voice coons from the doorway. I walk into the studio, ignoring the fact that it's the afternoon, not the morning.

I sit down at the back of the room, as far away from the red headed professor as possible.

THE RED HEADED PROFESSOR
He stands at the front of the room, wearing a grey waistcoat, white shirt, red ribbon and a strikingly crimson coat.

"Class!" he (yes, male) smiles, revealing pointed teeth. "Are you ready to express your undying love for one of the most profound arts?" he asks dramatically.

"Yes, Mr. Sutcliff," the students reply in a monotone, clearly used to the strange man's antics.

"Well then, what are you waiting for? RELEASE YOURSELVES; you are free, free, free~! Embrace the nature of this splendid subject. Feel the clay, mould it into anything you so desire. Create something! Create something spectacular, children!" the bizarre she-male screams and spins in a circle until he collapses into a chair, fanning himself.

The class rise from their seats and drag their feet to get the various utensils needed for the lesson. I smile to myself in shock. I never expected St. Charles to have such a teacher.

I walk over to the side of the room and grab a couple of paintbrushes, a small canvas, some acrylics and a pot of water. Laying it down on my desk, I ignore the glares of the jealous girls. I sigh, wishing I could tell them that the whole thing with Sebastian is just an act. But I can't.

Sinking into my Dream Land, I begin to paint. Each second flies by, and I am simply engrossed in my own bubble of imagination. I only stop when there is a presence by my shoulder.

"Oh my God," A girl stares in horror at my painting.

I snap out of my haze and deliberately spill black paint over the canvas of two blood soaked bodies. My hands begin to shake and beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. That's not my parents, that's not my parents, that's not my parents.

The bell rings and I dispose of the ruined canvas in the bin, and try to act like it never happened. But it's hard to ignore my sweaty palms and the girl's horrified glances in my direction as she speeds away from me as fast as she can, whispering into another's ear.

I almost walk straight past Sebastian, who leans against the wall outside the studio, lazily gazing at passers-by and oblivious to the whispers of various girls. His eyes lock with mine and he makes his way over to me, through the swarm of students.

"Do you feel unwell?" he asks with concern, noticing my state. I narrow my eyes, fake.

"What does it matter to you?" I ask.

The next thing I know, I am trapped against the wall of the corridor, with Sebastian's arms either side of me. The air is suddenly harder to breathe, and I fight a blush to glare at him. He leans in, and whispers into my ear.

"Skye Riverson, do at least try to seem convincing" he hisses. Then I feel a silent laugh against my neck "or we shall have to practice"

My face burns and I scowl with as much hatred as I can muster, my hand dying to reach under my skirt and pull out my pistol.

"Fine," I growl, and he takes my hand and we walk into the courtyard for lunch.

I frown as I sit next to him on a bench, oh brilliant, so I have to eat with him too?

We mostly eat in silence as I try to pretend like he's not there and sink into my Dream Land. But when the bell goes for fifth period, he doesn't get up to leave.

"You're not coming?" I ask, hoping that my voice doesn't betray just how much I want him not to come.

"No. The Young Master has a guest coming this evening; I need to make sure the others haven't destroyed the manor."

"Who's the guest?"

He stays silent for a while, perhaps deliberating whether or not to tell me.

"The Undertaker"


Why is the undertaker visiting, I wonder ;D Well, what do you think of their relationship? I wasn't sure if it would work but we'll see :) Chapter eight will be out sooner or later!

~Ched.~