Hey everyone! Long-time no see, huh? How have you all been? Okay, for those of you who haven't visited my profile, I was sitting exams for the past week and a half and so over these past few months, I have been unable to update. I'm sorry about that but unfortunately, real life was my first priority. But now that I'm free, here's another update that's been a long time coming. I hope you all enjoy it. It's been a while since I've written for this story so I'm sorry if I'm a little rusty. I'm sure I'll get back into the swing of it soon.
Enjoy!
How Many Miles to Babylon?
Kuroshitsuji / How Many Miles to Babylon?
Chapter XI: A Rather Tragic Memory
xMiss Shizaya Michaelisx
"Are you really going to enlist tomorrow?"
I closed my eyes as soon as the words escaped me, embarrassed by how shaky they flowed from my lips, like spotted leaves fluctuating on the wind.
His unblinking scarlet eyes gazed up at the ceiling. I watched him from my place by his side. My left arm had wound its way to lounge lazily across his chest. My feet were tangled in the sheets. My right hand played with his hair while my elbow supported my near non-existent weight. His own hands had found my hips and I could feel his fingers splayed out across my skin, softly moving in tender strokes.
"Yes." he answered, somewhat sadly. He let out a deep breath as his eyes wandered back down to meet my own equally disappointed pair. His head nestled back into my favourite pillow, not that I minded, as it allowed me the perfect angle to stretch up and cover his lips with my own. I could sense his hesitancy by the way he flinched back. It took him a moment to realise that I was the one to initiate contact, and I could feel him smile gratefully as I planted small kisses to each corner of his mouth.
I'm not sure why I feel the need to write down this rather tragic memory. Maybe to relive the moments I will never get back or hope to see happen ever again?
"You don't need to go." I urged in a pleading whisper against his pale skin, trailing hot, desperate kisses up along his cheek to his temple, "Stay... Sebastian, stay. Please." I could feel my emotions override as I forced myself closer to him than was physically possible. I knew I probably sounded desperate, but I honestly couldn't have cared less.
He had become the most important person in my life, and I knew the person I had become would die if I had to let him go.
I could hear him gulp as he continued to caress my skin silently, "Sebastian," I hissed at him. The growing frustration within me caused my eyes to blur, "say something for God's sake." I demanded through clenched teeth. I could feel my chest tighten and it was suddenly hard to breath.
His ministrations ceased and I could feel his chest rise and deflate as he let out an exhausted sigh, "Ciel…" he began, touching my cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, "Cash, Ciel. That's what's driving me to go."
I remember my eyes narrowing in disbelief. Had he not listened to a single word I said?
I pushed myself up off his chest, "Didn't I already tell you that if you needed cash, all you had to do was ask."
A small smile graced his lips. The look in his eyes told me that he knew more about the world than I did.
He reached up and planted a small kiss on the tip of my nose, "You will just have to forgive me for this."
That was all his said on the subject before he lifted his head up ever so slightly from the pillow to capture my lips with his own. His mouth against mine felt warm and welcoming, bordering on hot as I pressed back into the kiss. His grip on my waist tightened and pulled me closer against him. I slid my hands down his neck to grip onto his strong arms and leaned up closer to him for a better taste. One of his hands then clasped around the nape of my neck in order to deepen the kiss. His tongue had skimmed across my bottom lip and I hesitantly complied with his wishes.
Good things always come to an end.
We lay on the bed surrounded by an air of heavy, crushing silence.
I knew it must have been early morning by how the shade of the drapes had a dark blue hue to them. It was possibly an hour later before either of us spoke.
"I too, will go tomorrow."
"To enlist?"
"Yes."
Sebastian remained silent before speaking once again, "I'd much rather you didn't."
"Why so?" I demanded.
"What if something happened to you? What if you die?"
"What if you die?" I shot back at him.
"Good point." he replied reluctantly.
"My mother says my father's a cheat."
"So?"
"What do you mean 'so'?"
"How does that affect you?"
I thought about it for a moment, "I… suppose it affects me in a lot ways."
"Do you think of him as a lesser man?" the butler inquired, an exquisite brow raising up in question.
"Not particularly."
"Do you love him any less?"
"Not at all."
Sebastian laughed.
"What are you laughing at?"
"You're still quite blind, I see."
I hated it when he would beat around the bush.
"Blind to what?"
"Blind to the woman you call mother."
I lay in bed too long the next morning after a maid had brought in the hot water in a brass can and pulled open the drapes. Sebastian had excused himself a few hours beforehand. It took me a long time before I opened my eyes to the blinding light streaming in from the windows. The day was too bright for me. A suitcase lay at the foot of my bed, opened and ready to be of use. The problem of what to put in the suitcase when heading for war was too great to be grappled with. I eventually got up from my bed and fixed my hair and face for the day. I stared back at myself in the mirror, looking remarkably well and offensively young. That was when I caught site of darkened patches of skin on my neck. I then realised what Sebastian's little collection was.
"Just don't show your neck."
He had warned me the night before.
"Why?"
"Please trust me on this."
I sighed, knowing there was nothing I could do to help that. I could only hope the collar of my shirt would hide the patches.
The gong sounded from downstairs. It always reverberated throughout the house at breakfast, lunch and dinner time, and seemed to proclaim the end of the world rather than the next meal.
I could hear the maid Meyrin hum from outside my bedroom door as she busied herself with a broom. I could hear it tapping against the cold floor. She seemed somewhat late about her business.
I wriggled my tied tie into position at the front of my collar. Mother was always insistent on an immaculate appearance at the breakfast table.
Father and mother would be there, immaculate and perfect themselves. Father would elegantly bend his head downwards to read the morning paper while mother would read from one of her many poetry books while gracefully eating her cream-drenched porridge. Starch damask napkins will sit neatly across their laps, as per usual.
I believe they will both grow old immaculately, their mutual hatred of one another hidden from the rest of the world.
I often wondered if hatred was necessary where love was concerned, to keep the wheels of society driving forward.
I made sure I looked immaculate for my mother before I went downstairs.
The crisp white cloth covered the table. The room as usual had its air of formal gloom. My father was reading a catalogue while mother was surrounded by her own little delicacies; a comb of honey, her small silver teapot with china tea, her little pot of sugar for her porridge and a small knife with a curlicued handle for her apple.
My mother smiled as I entered the room, "Ah, my dear boy."
She held her face up for a kiss, but I felt repulsed by the thought of even touching her. It took me a long time before I realised what Sebastian had meant when he said I was blind to my mother. Now I understood.
I walked straight past her to the hot-plates on the sideboard. I inspected the food underneath the silver covers. Some of it looked destined to be eaten, while other foods were fated to be thrown to the pigs. It seemed that Bard had cooked breakfast that morning. I placed the covers back down. I didn't really feel like eating.
I made myself a cup of Earl Grey tea before sitting in my usual seat at the long dining table.
I stared out of the window to the garden as there seemed nothing else to do. I could see Finnian happily going about his business across the lawn.
"I do hope you're not sulking."
I heard my fingers click as I clenched my fists under the table.
"Why should I sulk?" I replied, offering her a forced smile.
I knew by the stillness of my father that he was listening.
"You know, it's childish to sulk." she retorted.
"What better advice than to follow your own."
The words rushed from my mouth before I had time to think.
Something in her eyes changed. It was almost as if the black of her eyes narrowed, making me feel as if I were a target to be shot at.
Oh, the irony.
My father had frozen behind his catalogue.
I picked up the tea spoon from the little saucer in front of me and stirred my tea.
"Aren't you eating?" she questioned eventually.
"No."
"Why not?"
There was a touch of anger in her voice.
"I'm not hungry."
"Perhaps you are ill?" she suggested, "But I do believe you are sulking. You used to sulk quite often as a little boy. It's such an unpleasant habit."
"I'm not sulking." I ground out.
"Then why aren't you eating?" she demanded.
I could hear my father stir uncomfortably behind his catalogue.
"I have told you, I'm not hungry."
"Well," started my mother as she poured herself a cup of tea from her own silver pot, "I'll butter you some toast, darling, with a little bit of my special honey. It's really delicious."
"How often do I have to tell you that I'm not hungry?"
"Rachel, he's not hungry."
The look in my father's eyes seemed to advise my mother to drop the subject of getting me to eat, when clearly I didn't desire any food.
My mother's lips tightened into a straight line.
My father's eyes immediately softened as they met mine, "My boy, we need to talk about the hunt-"
"There's no need."
"There's no need?" he repeated.
"That's right. Considering I won't be here, I don't think it's necessary."
My father straightened in his chair, his eyes widening, "What do you mean you won't be here?"
"I suppose I'll be heading for Belgium by then."
"There you are." said mother, "I told you he was sulking. But, dear boy, you don't need to go before the opening meet."
"Today."
"Today?" the shrill of her voice reverberated around the room. She was very angry.
"Yes. I'm going today so if you'll excuse me…"
"Don't you think you're treating us a little unfairly?"
I couldn't help but laugh at her, "Mother, you confuse me. Last night you said you wanted me to join the army. Today I join the army. I don't understand why you're complaining."
"You don't have to go today." my father offered. He seemed, somewhat, in a state of shock.
"The sooner the better." I muttered under my breath as I got up from my seat. I met my father's eyes. The little bit of life that had been in them seemed to slowly vanish, "You know, father, I had thought of just getting up and going. Crack of dawn, something like that, but I thought better of it."
My mother gestured helplessly with her hands, "If you must, you must."
"Father, I'll catch the train to London. I'll go and pack."
"Such fuss."
In spite of the petulance of her words, I was conscious of a radiance coming from her, a feeling of triumph.
"Vincent, we'll send him up in the motor."
"No. I would much rather just catch the train. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I shall have to ask you for money, father."
"By… by all means, son."
My father then picked up the morning newspaper and retired behind it. His hands were shaking.
"Might I say, you have been very thoughtless, Ciel. I will forgive you, however. Now, I shall pack your case for you."
She seemed all too eager when she said that.
She had gotten up from her seat and touched my cheek with her cold fingers. I swatted at them as I would a fly.
"I'll help you."
"I'm only bringing my tootbrush. That's all I need."
"How utterly absurd you are, Ciel."
"Indeed." I responded.
I turned on my heel and exited the dining room. I closed the double doors behind me and placed my ear against one of them.
An air of silence filled the room before I heard my mother retort.
"What a thoughtless boy for coming up with such a decision."
"Yes, and I wonder who helped him come to it, hm?" came my father's quick insinuating reply.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I waited to hear what she had to say.
"If you want to say something, just say it."
"I just have to wonder, what else are you going to take away from me, Rachel?"
I almost jumped when my mother's bell-like laughter hit my ear. It was the only response she gave before I silently ascended the grand staircase.
I hope you all enjoyed chapter 11. If you did, make sure to let me know in a review as they help inspire me to continue. Also, I just want to ask, is everyone in character? I know Rachel and Vincent are kind of different in this story but what about Sebastian and Ciel? Are they okay or is there anything I can do to improve their characterisation? If you have any advice, by all means share it with me. I'm really happy and honoured to be given advice on how to improve my stories so feel free to do so if you wish to share anything. Another thing, is there any Kuroshitsuji character that you really want to show up in this story? If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Thanks again for stopping by and reading chapter 11. Thank you! XD
