Stars were plastered over the sky, towering over the city, as the coach stopped before an alley. The chauffeur gave his clients less than fifteen seconds to get off, after which (having been paid from the outset) he made haste to depart.
Ciel remained rooted to his spot for a few more moments as his footman seemed to review the way to the chosen inn in his mind. The boy had seen him stuff a map in his coat pocket before they left, but the moon barely provided enough light to see by, let alone read. He had just started wondering whether his footman was playing a cruel joke on him, when he muttered something akin to a "let's go" and started towards the opposite end of the alley. Ciel followed suit.
It took them about ten minutes to reach the inn—ten minutes of avoiding the shadows who lurked behind corners of run-down buildings, and altering their route accordingly—and once they did, they found out that the only available room was free for three nights, at most. Snake turned slightly, throwing a questioning look at his master, noiselessly asking him if he thought they should look for another boarding house.
Ciel jerked his head a few centimeters to the right, then brought it back in its original spot.
No.
Snake asked for the keys.
He didn't request an explanation when they entered their frugal room, which was fine with Ciel. He had his reasons, albeit a bit childish.
No, not childish, Ciel chastised himself. Hopeful.
He figured their search for the Undertaker couldn't take much more than two days; he had left Ciel with the lockets, so he must have known that he'd be able to find him.
Yes, and he would. The Undertaker would know what to do after that.
He was his grandfather, after all.
Though there were not a lot of times when the master found himself sharing a room with his servant, every now and then came a peculiar exception. The boy deemed it inevitable as he sat on his bed—the sole bed in their room. With the many uncanny aspects the Phantomhive name brought along, this was to be expected.
But Snake refused to sleep on the floor, saying that it was too cold for his friends, and insisting that even the floor in his attic room wasn't that frigid; he couldn't take the bed either, for his master could not possibly sleep on the floor. And sharing it was out of the question. Ciel saw one of his footman's snakes hiss something in his ear, and Snake immediately translated its suggestion.
"We'll have to improvise, says Wordsworth."
And so, Cie found himself watching Snake as he tried to make a decent bed out of two wooden chairs, one thin sheet and an old cushion, his companions offering advice from time to time. At least Ciel thought they were doing so, as Snake kept nodding and making small adjustments to the "bed". Minutes passed, and Snake was still working.
Soon, Ciel's attention could no longer be held by the struggling footman. Letting out a sigh, he allowed himself to fall back and his head to sink onto the pillow. Creaks resounded in the room while the frame sagged to the point where it was a few inches short of touching the floor.
"Good night, Smile," said Snake, without looking up.
"I'm not going to sleep," Ciel replied, more out of habit than anything. He sent a furtive glance towards Snake, in time to see his upper lip twitch.
He let it slide.
A/N: This is a bit short, I know, but it's kind of an in-between chapter.