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Chapter Five: Eleven Months Anniversary
The flames came back, higher and more scorching than ever. Ciel whimpered, lost in the middle of them, unable to see or hear anything but the roaring of fire.
His parents were dead. He knew it. He didn't need to see their bodies — the knowledge was there, as solid and irrevocable as realisation that he, too, was going to die soon.
The flames hissed, licking closer to him, slowly melting his skin off his bones. Ciel cried — in fear, in pain, in helpless fury. When the wall of fire began to close over him, he threw himself forward, right into the flames, desperately hoping that he would find the door behind them and that a brief contact with fire wouldn't kill him.
To his surprise, he felt no pain. The flames let him in easily, and then there was indeed a door and a long corridor — the one that led to the final exit from this hellish trap.
When there were just several steps left to safety, something stopped him. Ciel turned and saw a tall, dark silhouette standing on the opposite end of the corridor. He couldn't see the face from here, but something about this figure — its contours, the unnatural stillness with which it was holding itself, was instantly, instinctively recognisable.
Sebastian.
Ciel glanced at the door, then back at Sebastian.
He didn't need him right now — the exit was right in front of him. He didn't need his help. And yet…
He started moving before he even realised it. The fire was near, it could burst from one of the rooms any moment now, but Ciel continued to walk toward Sebastian. He didn't know why; he wasn't sure why Sebastian felt safer than the actual exit.
"What are you doing here?" Ciel asked when he finally approached. Sebastian looked at him silently, his eyes glistening in a strange, ominous way.
Ciel shivered, even more unsure now, but instead of retreating, he just stepped closer.
"We are leaving," he ordered. "Take me out of here."
Sebastian smiled and opened his arms, and Ciel stepped into them without hesitation, expecting to be picked up. However, Sebastian's hands went to his hair, caressing it gently, and then slipped down his neck. Ciel lifted his head in surprise.
Despite the soft touch, Sebastian's eyes were cold. His grip tightened, and when Ciel gasped, he did pick him up — by the neck. Pressure made him choke, but Ciel did not try to pull free, for a reason he couldn't understand. He didn't try to fight even as Sebastian carried him back to the room from which he had escaped earlier, bringing him back to the fire. Then he tossed him right in the middle of it, confident and indifferent as ever, and this time, the fire did hurt. The flames tore into him mercilessly, filling him with liquid, agonizing pain, and Ciel screamed — burning, burning… Burning.
He woke up with a start, panting as if he'd run a mile. For a second, he could still feel the toxic smoke in his lungs, the bitterness from Sebastian's betrayal, and then his consciousness slammed back in, chasing the illusions away.
He was in his bed. In his house. There was no fire — there hadn't been for almost a year now. It was just a nightmare, one of many, and it was high time he got used to them and stopped panicking.
Annoyed with himself, Ciel left the bed and walked towards the window, staring at the bare greyness.
At least he hadn't screamed this time, or Sebastian would have come to wake him up.
Months had passed since their game with Rassford. Three more games had happened after it, and yet the nightmares were still vivid — and each of them now involved Sebastian, in one way or another.
When would it stop?
The floor was wintery cold despite the fire cracking in the fireplace. Ciel stared at it and nausea crawled up his throat, bringing back the memories of smoke, heat, death.
No. Stop.
He forced himself to look away, wrapping his arms around himself when more coldness came in a wave.
He hated winters.
A soft knock startled him. Ciel frowned, cursing Sebastian and his hearing, and then mumbled, "Come in."
Sebastian walked inside, holding a candlestick in his hands.
"Young Master," he said flatly. "Is something wrong? You are supposed to be sleeping at this hour."
"I was. Then I woke up."
"Would you like me to bring you something soothing to drink? Some milk?"
"No, thank you. You can leave. I won't need you tonight."
"Very well," Sebastian smiled and Ciel narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He became well acquainted with Sebastian's smiles by now, and this allegedly innocent one meant that Sebastian was going to be especially annoying. "Only after you return to your bed."
Why the hell was Sebastian so obsessed with his regimen? Ciel shouldn't have encouraged it. It was much more satisfactory when Sebastian left him alone whenever he asked, like he had been doing during the first month of their life together. He paid no attention to Ciel's state then — if Ciel dismissed him, he went, asking no further questions.
This more responsible version of a butler was maddening.
"I'll return to it in a minute," Ciel said calmly.
"You should do it now, Master — you are cold."
"I'm not."
"Your feet are turning blue."
"No, they are not!" Ciel shouted indignantly before he cringed, realising how childishly that sounded.
Sebastian remained unmoved.
"It is your birthday tomorrow — or rather, today," he said. "You should rest particularly well."
The reminder darkened Ciel's mood further, bringing a familiar, bitter taste of loss with it.
"I already said that I am not going to celebrate it," he uttered dully. "I also remember ordering you not to mention it again. Or did you forget?"
Something peculiar flickered in Sebastian's eyes before he sent him a small smile.
"No," he assured. "I simply wondered if you changed your mind."
"Do I change my mind often?"
"Young Master—"
"Leave," Ciel demanded curtly, climbing back to his bed. "I'm going to sleep now and I don't want to hear even one word about my birthday in the morning. Understood?"
"Perfectly," Sebastian bowed and left the room, throwing him one last strange glance.
Why did Ciel have a feeling that there was something about tomorrow he wasn't aware of?
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His suspicions intensified in the morning, when Sebastian took extra time to pick his outfit and hovered over him in that irritating manner of his, making sure that everything looked perfect. He was also unexpectedly quiet, to the point where it was impossible to tolerate it and say nothing.
"Sebastian." Ciel was surprised at how calm and detached he sounded. "What have you done?"
Sebastian gave him a long, studying gaze, as if deciding whether he should confess or not. Before Ciel could snap at him in outrage for even considering disobeying, though, he said, "Madam Red has written me a letter, insisting that I organise a celebration event today. After careful consideration, I decided that it is my responsibility as a butler to ensure that you enjoy your birthday. Celebrations of this kind are common in England, so I followed Madam Red's advice and invited her and the Midfords. They are to arrive in three hours. Additionally, I have made all preparations for a celebratory lunch — I am making your favourite—"
"Shut up," Ciel interrupted him coldly. Sebastian fell silent. Several minutes passed in silence, with Ciel trying to breathe slowly and soothe the rage boiling in him. When he thought he could control his voice, he spoke again.
"You disobeyed me."
"Not directly," Sebastian said carefully, and Ciel glared at him.
"You knew very well what I meant. I stated explicitly that I don't want to hear anything about my birthday — tell me, how does it translate to inviting all these noisy people into my house?"
"Based on Madam Red's letter, I came to a conclusion that birthday celebrations have always been a big event in your family. Your parents—"
"…are dead," Ciel hissed, clenching his fists in fury. "Have been dead for a year as of today. My life has ended this day, too — I have a seal on my eye to prove it. And you think I'd want to celebrate something like this? Are you a complete idiot?"
"Young Master—"
"I accepted that you know nothing of humans — demons can't feel any real emotions, so obviously you cannot understand them in others. But even you couldn't possibly be this moronic! I thought you've made progress over this year but now I see you remained just as half-witted!"
Sebastian clenched his jaw tightly and a familiar wave of dark satisfaction welled inside Ciel.
He managed to make Sebastian angry. Not annoyed, but genuinely angry.
Not many people could boast of it.
Even less people remained alive afterwards.
Sebastian hated imperfection and he hated being imperfect in anything. He hated being called out on it even more, so Ciel added venomously, "Incompetent," and watched how Sebastian's face darkened further.
Good. He deserved that.
"May I remind you that it is your aunt who suggested the idea of celebration?" Sebastian said tightly, and Ciel immediately retorted.
"She doesn't know me. You were supposed to."
It was the right answer — something dark and possessive flared in Sebastian's eyes, and Ciel imagined him recalling every bit of information he had gathered during this time, everything that he needed to become the perfect butler.
He was probably thinking of nightmares that Ciel still had weekly, waking up screaming — confused, scared, and disoriented. He could also be thinking of the scene he had witnessed when they made their contract, of that big, elegant room, with the smell of blood and perversion thick in the air. Or about the manor, silent and ruined after everything that had occurred inside, a shadow of what it had been once. Sebastian had restored it, but even though he managed to copy everything, down to the tiniest cracks and holes in the walls, it still wasn't the same. Could never be the same.
No, Ciel did not want to celebrate the day that had led to the destruction of everything he had ever held dear. He didn't want to celebrate the day of his own death, because however long his and Sebastian's contract lasted, it was still a reprieve rather than salvation.
Even someone as emotionally dead as Sebastian had to understand this.
"Get everything ready for their arrival," Ciel ordered roughly. "I don't want to see you until then."
Sebastian looked strangely stricken. He nodded silently, slowly, and Ciel waited until he left the room before letting out a sigh. He turned to his bed, staring at it unseeingly, and then he kicked it as hard as he could. Pain shot up instantly, wrapping his foot in an infuriating, throbbing blanket of pain, and Ciel hissed in frustration. Then he cursed, realising that Sebastian must have heard it, and cursed louder out of spite, deciding that at this moment, he didn't care what Sebastian thought. Inviting Madam Red and the Midfords! What was he thinking? The whole day, which was unpleasant to begin with, was now ruined entirely.
His leg continued to throb. Ciel limped to his bed forlornly, wanting to hide among the thick blankets but knowing that he couldn't — not unless he wanted to have to summon Sebastian once again and ask him to change his wrinkled clothes.
He couldn't even allow himself something this small because today belonged to other people.
The noise, the boring wishes; sympathetic smiles and softly-spoken words meant to bring comfort — words that only made him uncomfortable and bitter.
Pretending to be something he wasn't all day.
Just what his idea of fun entailed.
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"Ciel!" Elisabeth threw himself at him before Ciel could even mutter the words of greeting, attacking him with her golden locks, the endless frills of her green dress, and with her flowery perfume all at once. Not that Ciel minded any of those separately, but definitely not when they were pushed right into his face all at once.
Clearing his throat, he murmured, "I hope your journey was pleasant."
Elisabeth finally pulled back and started to answer when Madam Red took hold of him and hugged him tightly, cooing and refusing to let go.
"Happy birthday, Ciel!" Elisabeth exclaimed, beaming at him with innocence and sincerity that were almost painful to watch. Ciel fidgeted, torn between annoyance and an unusual protective instinct.
It confounded him that Elisabeth could stay absolutely the same after everything that happened. Logically, he knew that whatever happened to him hadn't happened to her, so there was no reason for her to change, but still… coming to terms with it was harder than he expected.
Now, looking at her, he found himself unable to believe that just a year ago, he had been exactly like her. Carefree, joyous, naïve… happy. Blissfully happy and unaware of the evil biding its time to attack when he least expected it.
Elisabeth was a reflection of everything good that had been present in his life before that day, and Ciel felt strangely compelled to protect her, to preserve this innocence and this openness, even if he would never be able to relate to them again.
His eyes must have lingered on her because Elizabeth flushed while Madam Red smirked and winked at him knowingly. Ciel scowled before he could stop himself, nearly groaning when he realised that Elisabeth's parents and Edward were also looking at him, having caught this embarrassing display.
"Happy birthday," Aunt Francis said, giving him a rare smile, and then her features hardened. "Butler," she uttered sharply. "Why are you still standing here? You should be unloading the carriage by now — there are presents for your Master there."
Sebastian, who had collected the heavy coats and was now standing silently, bowed.
"Right away," he murmured. He glanced at Ciel briefly, his eyes dark and expressionless, but Ciel thought he looked troubled — to an extent.
Or maybe he just wanted him to be.
"Really, Ciel, you should fire that man. He does not correspond to the standards that the butler of the Phantomhive family must adhere to."
"I don't know, he corresponds to all standards of mine," Madam Red drawled, and when Aunt Francis narrowed her eyes at her, she laughed. Her laughter sounded empty, but then again, it always did to Ciel. Maybe it was a part of her personality.
Alexis was the next in line for a hug and Ciel tolerated it, even though his lips started hurting from smiling so much.
"Ciel, promise you will open my present first!" Elisabeth implored. Ciel nodded and Edward immediately glared at him, as if agreeing to comply with his sister's request was a mortal offense.
Ciel already felt tired of their company, even though it had only been five or seven minutes.
"Back to the butler, though," Aunt Francis noted. "The fact that you are forced to rely on him so much bothers me, Ciel. He is clearly incapable of maintaining your family's good name. If you want, I could use some of my connections and find a perfect butler, someone who—"
"Thank you, but I am satisfied with Sebastian's services," Ciel interrupted her. He knew that this was a mortal offense indeed — his aunt hated being interrupted, but his own patience was short today and he wasn't going to stand and listen to his butler being insulted. Sebastian was his, and frankly, Aunt Francis was the only person not impressed with his abilities. Ciel couldn't understand where her intense dislike was coming from.
"I like Sebastian, too," Elisabeth joined in. "He cooks the most delicious things! That cake from several months ago was flawless, I have never tasted something like that before."
Yes — in fact, Elisabeth had enjoyed it so much that she had eaten his portion. Ciel was still sourly about it, and even though Sebastian had prepared an identical cake later, it still didn't taste the same.
And where was Sebastian? How long was he going to pretend unloading that carriage? It couldn't have taken him more than several seconds.
As if hearing his thoughts, Sebastian walked back inside, smiling his usual meaningless smile.
"If you would follow me," he said politely.
"You need more servants," Aunt Francis grumbled as they moved towards the dining room.
"Stop harassing the poor boy, Francis," Alexis uttered good-naturedly. Ciel pretended he hadn't heard her, and considering Sebastian's refusal to comment despite his tensed shoulders, he'd chosen the same option.
At least this day would be hellish not for Ciel alone.
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Hellish was an understatement. Lunch and everything that came after were a complete and utter torture.
Elisabeth kept pestering him about presents. Aunt Francis kept pestering him about Sebastian. Madam Red kept gushing about people he didn't know and didn't want to know. Alexis, surprisingly, was the worst — he was telling him stories about the Phantomhives, everything he knew and remembered, and Ciel just wanted him to shut up. After an hour, he felt ready to explode, so he tried to distract himself by watching Sebastian, who was tirelessly trying to be perfect despite Aunt Francis' persistent criticism.
It was amusing. The harder Sebastian tried, the faster he moved, the more helpful he was, the more criticism Aunt Francis unleashed on him, and Ciel found it endlessly entertaining.
It didn't mean that he appreciated such comments, though, especially when they were directed at him.
"And your outfit," Aunt Francis was saying, frowning, eyeing him with obvious disapproval. "I understand this is your birthday, but don't you think you've gone a little too far with all these…" she hesitated. "Details," she added awkwardly, and then her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is Sebastian choosing your wardrobe for you?"
As the matter of fact, he was, but Ciel wasn't going to say that. He liked how he looked — otherwise, he'd never agree with Sebastian's choices.
"I think Ciel looks wonderful," Elisabeth intervened suddenly, and Aunt Francis immediately focused on her.
Using this temporary reprieve, Ciel moved aside, towards the window, staring at the falling snow. Sebastian walked to him, with the same strange hesitancy he had been demonstrating since morning.
"Young Master," he murmured quietly. "You are limping. Did you hurt your leg?"
"No," Ciel replied automatically.
"I could say that you are tired and see your guests out. All you have to do is order."
"Your quests, since you were the one to invite them," Ciel corrected him maliciously. "And no, I don't need you to do anything. I've had enough of you twisting and misinterpreting my orders. Leave me alone."
With a silent nod, Sebastian obeyed, and Ciel went back to staring at the snow.
"Nephew, what are you doing there? Come here!" Madam Red called, and Ciel fought the urge to hit his head against the window repeatedly.
They couldn't leave soon enough.
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When his house became blissfully quiet, Ciel finally allowed himself to relax. Anger was still simmering in him, though, so when Sebastian tried to initiate a conversation lightly, Ciel shut him down.
He continued to do so for the next several days — anger had left by then, but vindictive pleasure remained.
His coldness bothered Sebastian. Now he was absolutely sure. Sebastian didn't deal well with rejection, so Ciel doubled his efforts, going as far as refusing to even taste the desserts that Sebastian kept making for him. As the result, Sebastian started to get more creative with his cooking, to the point where Ciel couldn't determine if it was funny or disturbing.
Whatever Sebastian was doing, it wasn't because he genuinely felt sorry and wanted Ciel's forgiveness. There had to be something else here, and this something pushed Ciel's thoughts in the darkest direction.
Sebastian had proven time and time again that he could disobey him. He had already tried to break the contract and consume his soul by tricking him. He proceeded to interpret Ciel's orders in the way he wanted several times after that, whenever he felt like it. And if he could do that, then Ciel's nightmares weren't baseless. Contract or not, Sebastian could hurt him. Could betray him.
Why did he bother with being in Ciel's good graces, then? Why was it important to him?
Could Ciel choose to end the contract because of Sebastian's disobedience, with no personal repercussions?
He thought about it for a while, wondering if he should discuss it with Sebastian directly — and, most importantly, if he could ever actually trust the words of that slippery creature.
His leg was still hurting but at least he stopped limping, so the next day, Ciel decided to go riding. If he didn't get tired so easily, it would be one of his favourite activities. He loved it — the sense of power he felt when riding, the way he merged with the horse entirely, making it move almost with his thoughts alone.
He had never enjoyed riding until Sebastian's lessons.
Scowling — why did his thoughts always turn to Sebastian?, Ciel picked his horse and spent some time on trying to prepare everything the way he had seen Sebastian do it. Finally, when he was more or less sure that the saddle wouldn't move, he climbed up and froze when he heard a low chuckle.
"My, my," Sebastian said, looking at him from the shadows. "Young Master has managed to mount the horse all by himself, without asking for help. What possessed you to do such a thing?"
"Well, it's not like I can rely on you, can I?" Ciel snapped. He hated being taken aback. Where did Sebastian come from — was he following him around the house?
He could sense Sebastian's displeasure without having to look at him. Then he sensed him getting closer, and this time, he did look.
Sebastian checked the saddle, tightened the tie strap, and then sent Ciel a contemplative glance.
"Would you like me to accompany you? A competition, perhaps?"
"What, are you going to ride a horse, too? I've never seen you on one."
"I do not need a horse to keep up with you."
Ciel stared at him, his mouth agape, before curling his lips in derision.
"Are you planning to run after me?" he asked in disbelief, and Sebastian smirked.
"Not after you, no," he said. "We should have a final destination in mind. Do you remember how to ride to the lake?"
"Of course I do."
"Then it's decided. I will meet you there."
"And how is that supposed to be entertaining? You will just use your demonic powers and reach that lake even before I leave the stables. No, it has to be a real competition."
"Such as?"
"You will choose a medium speed and you will try to avoid collision with my horse. I will try to trample you."
It was Sebastian's turn to stare at him in disbelief.
"You will try to trample me," he repeated. "That is certainly… novel. However, I do not think that your horse will comply. Horses do not trample people unless trained for it specifically."
"Oh," Ciel frowned in disappointment. He still wasn't sure what to do about mindless aggression that kept burning in him whenever he thought of the long list of Sebastian's betrayals — small, but betrayals nonetheless. A chance to see him physically hurt, to test his own reaction, was intriguing, especially after the last incident where he had only embarrassed himself.
He didn't care if Sebastian was hurt. He would prove it — now or later, but he would. This time, he would react differently.
"In that case, I won't be needing your company," Ciel announced. Without waiting for a reply, he directed his horse forward, leaving Sebastian behind.
As it turned out, it wasn't for long. Soon, his peripheral vision caught something dark moving alongside his horse, and when he glanced there, he saw Sebastian who was… running? sliding?... on his level easily, without even looking where he was going, too busy watching Ciel.
"What are you doing?" Ciel shouted at him, his voice fighting the strength of the wind. "Stop that. I told you I don't want your company."
"I'm afraid you will have to make it into a direct order," Sebastian said without pausing. "To me, this looks like a good time for some running."
"You look ridiculous. Stop it," Ciel said again, but he couldn't help but check if Sebastian was still keeping up with him.
It did look ridiculous. The speed and effortlessness of Sebastian's movements were unnatural, his legs and his hands were moving so quickly that it was difficult to tell them apart. After watching him for a while, Ciel started to feel surreal because Sebastian was blurring into one impossible picture, and he wasn't sure if he found it spooky or funny.
"Will you stop? What if someone sees this?" he asked, and to his mortification, his lips began to tremble from barely supressed laughter.
Sebastian must have noticed it — he always noticed everything. His smirk grew smugger and he managed to somehow shake his head without breaking pace.
"I will sense if there is anyone in the vicinity, Master," he said. "You shouldn't worry about it."
"I'm not worried," Ciel huffed, and it was true. He wasn't worried — he was amused. Perhaps even… happy? The wind kept ruffling his hair, the cold, crisp air burned his lungs in the most delightful way, and the blurring image of Sebastian's limbs was still too funny to keep a serious expression. Ciel laughed, genuinely and too loudly for the sound to be decent. He saw how Sebastian's smirk softened to a smile in response.
"It is too cold for you to be inhaling so much winter air," he noted. "Maybe it is time to take a break?"
Ciel started to answer when Sebastian suddenly tripped over something. It lasted for half a second only — he found a balance again immediately, but Ciel noticed and his eyes widened incredulously.
"You tripped!" he exclaimed, the excited disbelief clear in his voice. "Aunt Francis was right — you are clumsy!"
At such speed, he couldn't properly read Sebastian's expression — then again, maybe it was just blank.
"I am not," Sebastian said, and the dignity he tried to convey would have been more effective if he wasn't still moving like a crazed, blurry toy. "I do not trip."
"You just did! You were too busy nagging at me to pay attention to where you are going!"
"Unlike humans, I experience no difficulties when doing several things at once."
"Liar," Ciel rolled his eyes. Sebastian glowered, his eyes flashing red suddenly, and Ciel's horse jerked, letting out a frightened screech. A moment — and Ciel went flying, his heart jumping to his throat from the unexpectedness of it. There was no fear, though — as if his mind was confident that he would be saved.
He wasn't disappointed — Sebastian caught him before he landed and cradled him to his chest.
"You really are useless," Ciel muttered with a sigh. He wasn't in a hurry to pull away — despite being a demon, Sebastian was warm, or at least warmer than the air around them. It was comforting. It was nice.
"I did not let you come to any harm, did I?" Sebastian objected.
"You were the reason why my horse threw me off its back in the first place."
"You should have held on, Young Master — didn't I teach you how? Perhaps we need more lessons."
"Perhaps not," Ciel told him. "What I would like to do instead is to discuss our contract."
Sebastian raised an eyebrow in obvious curiosity.
"Is there something you would like to know?" he asked carefully.
"Yes. I would like to know why you allow yourself to disobey me and how much farther your disobedience could stretch."
As soon as he said it, relief and trepidation filled him and Ciel fell silent, waiting for the answer.
It felt good to finally ask Sebastian directly, after all time he'd spent wondering, distressed and unsure.
Granted, Sebastian could lie again… but if he did, Ciel hoped he would be able to catch it.
"I do not disobey you," Sebastian said finally. Ciel expected him to put him down already, but as Sebastian continued to hold him and it was warmer this way, he didn't protest. "My first goal is to protect your interests, even if you might not see it this way at the time."
"Your goal is to protect my life, not my interests," Ciel pointed out. "And even if you were concerned about it, how is organising my birthday celebration relevant?"
"There are different ways of interpreting orders," Sebastian said vaguely and Ciel fought the impulse to growl at him. Then, remembering he was a Watchdog, he did growl, and Sebastian's surprised and disturbed face became more than a sufficient reward.
"Sebastian," Ciel stared at him intently, and suddenly, he knew what he had to do. "I order you to give me direct, comprehensive, honest answers to the questions I am going to ask."
Sebastian didn't like it — Ciel could see it in the slight stiffening of his posture, in how his eyes darkened visibly.
"Yes, my lord," he said, his voice reluctant, and Ciel grinned sombrely.
"Good," he uttered. "Question one. Can you hurt me physically, despite being in a contract with me? Deliberately?"
"Yes," Sebastian replied evenly, and Ciel froze, his nightmares rising to the surface with the terrifying speed. Sebastian didn't look away. His eyes were getting redder and crueller, and Ciel's lungs constricted in panic. A cold chill poured down his spine and he tried not to shiver, not to look away from the danger that he suddenly found himself in.
However, when Ciel blinked, Sebastian's eyes were back to normal, and when he spoke, his voice was its usual mild self.
"Contract or not, I could hurt you. I could even kill you. However, I will not, because it would mean that I wouldn't be able to touch your soul. This is an unacceptable outcome for me. I swore to protect you until you fulfil your revenge and I will do that. So you can rest in peace, Young Master."
Rest in peace?
This time, Ciel did shiver, and Sebastian tightened his arms around him in a deceptively caring gesture.
"So… question two," Ciel cleared his throat, trying to chase the fear away. "If you break my orders, I can break the contract? With no consequences?"
"Well, no, not exactly," Sebastian smiled and Ciel tensed again, recognising this lips-parted, fangs-glistening smile as a dangerous one. "You may indeed break the contract, and if the reason is valid, such as my disobedience, then I wouldn't be able to consume your soul. However, I would also be under no obligation to protect you. Therefore…" Sebastian let his words linger meaningfully.
"Therefore, you will just kill me," Ciel concluded. "One way or another, I won't escape alive."
"No," Sebastian admitted, still smiling enigmatically, and Ciel lowered his eyes, focusing on the buttons of Sebastian's frock coat.
He knew it, it wasn't a revelation, yet still, strange melancholy seized his heart.
How long would he live? How many years waited for him until his death?
He and Sebastian had already spent eleven months together. Eleven months… on the one hand, it seemed like a fairly short amount of time, but on the other, Ciel felt as if he'd been living like this forever. During these elven months, he learned and managed to accomplish more than he had in all previous years of his life.
It was something. Now, even with him gone, he would leave something behind — Funtom Corporation, a few stories of his victory over the underworld members… Knowledge that he did not sully his family's name and continued performing his duties in a satisfying manner.
The melancholy didn't dissipate but Ciel still brightened.
He was never going to celebrate his birthday again, but maybe, if forced, he could celebrate the success he had achieved — the eleven months, and then a year and eleven months, and possibly more since he had summoned Sebastian and changed weakness into power. Celebrating death didn't make sense, but celebrating revenge, even a slow-burn one… it was something else entirely. The only thing Ciel had to do was to stop focusing on his fears and pay attention to revenge only.
He would have died on the table in that terrible place if he hadn't summoned his demon. Sebastian had given him more time, but the outcome remained the same, and wasn't it what Ciel wanted?
Yes. Yes, it was. He just had to remember it and not succumb to weakness and this childish fear again. It was beneath him. Ciel would repeat it as many times as needed until it was finally engraved in his mind. And if Sebastian did break the contract and killed him sooner than they agreed, then he would still have his revenge, only on Sebastian — because Sebastian wouldn't be able to eat his soul. It was better than nothing.
"I have the last question," Ciel said when Sebastian started walking back to the house, following Ciel's horse and still cradling him in his arms. "Why are you so particular about my clothing? I haven't thought about it before Aunt Francis's words, but it is obvious that she finds my wardrobe lacking or inappropriate in some way and I was wondering why. I do not really know much about such things, and some people did compliment me on how I look, but I still wonder. Have you been making fun of me all this time? Do you dress me so I would look stupid?"
"I dress you so you would look beautiful," Sebastian told him. "And you do. I enjoy knowing that my meal is appealing in every way possible."
"Oh," was all that Ciel managed to murmur. He pressed closer to Sebastian, seeking out his warmth, thinking about what he'd just heard.
Had Sebastian just called him beautiful?
It felt nice, knowing that. Ciel wasn't sure why — Madam Red always made praising remarks about his physical appearance, and Elisabeth did, too. It never meant anything. But somehow, coming from Sebastian, it was different. Embarrassing, but not in a bad way.
Content, Ciel closed his eyes, hoping to keep the warm glow in his chest for at least some time to come.
A/N: So, this was more of a relationship-focused chapter. In the next one, there will be some bits of a case, some more bonding moments, and Ciel and Sebastian headhunting.
As for replies — first of all, thank you all so much for your comments, subscriptions, and favorites!
HiddenOtaku24, oh yes, Sebastian can be a huge asshole — he so deserves a smack at times… and he has so many things to learn, even if slowly.
James Birdsong, SagenWarrior — thank you!
Madame, thank you so much for your wonderful comment! I'm so happy you enjoyed chapter 4 – it's my favorite so far, I enjoyed those games Ciel and Sebastian play in canon so much. And yes, in this story, Ciel was also raped – anime makes it clear in the episodes about the puppet turning girls into dolls, where he says that Ciel's body has been 'sullied' and Ciel reacts by remembering how he was half-naked, in chains, torn in different directions. I won't include any graphic details here, but it will be addressed occasionally.
Elisabeth will be appearing occasionally, too — I can't say I'm very fond of her, but I do think she's great and I respect her a lot. Unfortunately, as the events are told mostly from Ciel's POV, he won't be able to notice a more complex nature of Elisabeth for quite some time – boys can be so oblivious… Later, though, it will be addressed.
And yes, I will try to smooth over the possible plot holes, like with Undertaker's story. Based on S1, he's a legendary Shinigami, but in Book of Atlantic, they do mention he's a deserter. I have some ideas of how to address it already, so I will connect the missing bits when the time comes :)
Thank you again, so much, for your words and for your constant support! It means so much to me, and I think your English is very good!