Disclaimer: Refer to chapter one please

AN: Just thought I should mention that not every chapter will be different view points of the same occurrence. The first half of this was rather fun to write =)

Something about him fills me with uncertainty.
Challenges the core of what I am.
But no…
It must be my hunger, driving me mad.
Nothing more.

"Goodnight, Sebastian!"
First is Finny, much too lively at this late hour.

" G'Night, Sebastian!"
Second comes Bard, American drawl slurred by a yawn.

"Sleep well, Sebastian!"
Finally, an enthusiastic chirp from Maylene.

Tanaka is already fast asleep in his quarters.

I bid them a good night in turn. They'd be wise to rest. There is quite a bit to do tomorrow, since the destruction they caused today has left a mass of setbacks in my otherwise flawless planning. That being said, I shall have no mercy when rousing them awake come sunrise. It's always amusing to see the looks of disappointment when they realize it is time to get to work, and leave their foolish dreams behind.

Although I can sleep, I seldom do so. Not that a little nap isn't enjoyable every now and then, but honestly, living with this lot, when would I ever find the time for even that? Then there's the Young Master, with a lavish lifestyle that demands all the precision and cunning I can spare. In such an environment, sleep and I are rarely acquainted.

So much to do, so much, but any who says that only Gods can yield miracles is simply a person with no knowledge of my existence. Of course, the price for such feats is steep, but not unfair in my own opinion. In fact I daresay that a demon is the one cheated in the dealings of a covenant, for I've toiled away for three years, and my banquet eludes me still.

It's fine though. He is such an amusing trifle of a child, with that cherubic face that masks a heavy dose of unbridled defiance. Intelligence. Maybe even a little ruthlessness.

I watch the flames of the candles I am carrying in hand weave back and forth with each step I take down a desolate hall within a now quiet Phantomhive manor, listing all the things I will have to prepare for tomorrow. The Young Master's favorite visitor will be coming for him, and there is no better show than the one Lady Elizabeth gives when swinging him around and suffocating him with her adoration. Truly, the girl is no better than a golden Labrador dressed in fine lace…

Let's see then…

Set silverware (if only to ensure it's survival, the rate which, when Maylene is involved, plummets to zero)…

Marinate the beef roast for dinner early (to ensure an incomparable flavor, and that Bard does not turn it to a charred massacre)…

Cut fresh flowers (those plain, colorless white roses that the Young Master is so fond of, because if I instruct Finny to do so, they will easily become white petals)…

Ah, and right now?

Investigate the animalistic cry that just came from the Young Master's bedroom.

I burst through the door and let the candle light bathe over the room.

There's no one here but the Young Master himself. But he is wailing, and I feel a heat on the center of my left hand, where the pentacle of our bond is etched in black.

It is my name he's calling, over and over, a chant intertwined with the most helpless whimpers I have ever heard him muster.

I quickly set the candles down on his night stand. What a terror he must be concocting in that head of his, to be thrashing about in such a manner! So unlike his usual self!

I am at his side at once, of course, because to deny his call would be to betray our contract. My fitful Young Master is a disheveled mess. Clutched sheets in quivering fists, nightshirt clinging to moon-pale skin beaded by a cold sweat, and an expression of pain so frightful that it could almost be beautiful.

I loom over him, grasping his shoulders in an attempt to wake him, and he grabs me suddenly.

Those wiry arms of his are laced around my back in a vice-grip. Clasping on for dear life, one would think. He burrows his face against my neck, his cries incessant and his body shivering. Still dreaming.

But the situation paints such a lovely picture.

He scent is appealing- fresh like the floral notes of the soap he prefers, honeyed with his nubile youth, and laced with the fear that fuels his restlessness. His lips continue to plea to my name again and again, and his body is completely at my mercy in this embrace.

It is torture, so very unfair, to have such an inviting meal writhing against me. But there is time yet. He is a fruit unfit to be picked, and I am no Eve. If I am going to feast on a forbidden fruit, I will do so at my own leisure, when it is fully ripe.

"Young Master!"

I say it only once, shaking him gently and feeling him stir.

"Se…Sebas…tian."

His voice is weak from all that sobbing.

"Shhh. It was a dream, Young Master. Or a nightmare, rather."

I try to bring him into reality, holding him as his labored pants huff against my skin. I am not expecting it when he pulls away and sits up, looking at me.

To see him in such a state should bring me enjoyment. But it does not.

Instead, it is tugging at something inside of me.
There is the acute feeling of something shattering, though I know that this is not possible.
There isn't even any pain.
Because it isn't real.

A pair of eyes are watching my own, both the ethereal glow of the seal on the right, and the natural cerulean of his iris on the left shining with tears. They bead his lengthy lashes and shimmer in the candlelight, and for a moment, I remember this same look of despair, only it is a memory of three years prior.

"Sebastian!"

Young Master surprises me again with a tremble of his lower lip that erupts into my name. He throws himself against me, confusing me. Is he not awake? Shouldn't his pride keep him from displaying this blatant vulnerability?

While trying to make sense of it I find that I've begun to pet his back absentmindedly. Comforting him. When have I ever…?

"Young Master. Hush now. I can only imagine what images plagued your sleep, but it is over. You are awake, and perfectly safe."

You are with me. I have you. You are mine.

All things that are never spoken, but trickle into my thoughts.

I dismiss all of it- clearly, I am just being possessive of my meal.

That must be it.

I feel the body in my arms break free of my hold to look at me again. He is staring. I feel the need to hide something, thought I cannot imagine what. The boy's never been able to read me, so what have I to hide?

"Sebastian. What do you do if I call for you?"

Ah, there it is. That low, uncaring tone of the Earl Phantomhive. A little weighed from the crying, but unmistakable.

I answer him. "Why come, of course, Young Master."

"And if I tell you to stay by my side?"

I want to smile but restrain myself. I see. So he's asking for reassurance in the only way he knows how.

"Then by your side I shall remain, until the day you cease to exist."

I'll protect you, Young Master, delicate little flower, and feast of that rare nectar you hold when you come into bloom. Leave you utterly wilted the second my end of our bargian is complete.

"I'm tired," he declares, "I want to go back to sleep."

I grant him the reprieve he's wished for, moving forward to settle him against his bed. I fix him among the pillows as though he is a doll, shifting him just a bit here and there until the arrangement looks both comfortable and esthetically pleasing. All that remains is to tuck him in, which I do, tossing covers over his form.

Wordlessly, I turn to retrieve the candles that I placed on his nightstand and reach for the door. There is still far too much to organize, and this has taken up a sizable amount of time.

The Young Master's voice cuts through the silence. "Stay until I fall asleep. It's an order."

Oh? Do you feel safe if I am with you, Young Master? Even though I also pose the biggest threat? But that is fine. It's fine if it's only me that you want…

"Yes, Young Master."

I can see him as I stand at my post, watching sleep come for him once more. He looks so much at peace; a little fallen angel curled in a nest.

Before I can contemplate it, words are leaving my mouth:

"Pleasant dreams, Young Master."

And I find it very strange that I mean them.

What nonsense.

Perhaps I have come to spoil him unintentionally, but I suppose it cannot be helped. An animal pampered to the fullest also tastes the best, after all.

Yet, when I take a last glance at him, now certain that he is asleep, I do not see food.

I see a boy. A lonely soul and heart marred with wounds that might never heal. A lost human who seeks of me what he dares not seek from anyone else, because he's already been betrayed by his fellow man. Experienced cruelty, probably before he even knew the word.

I should like to reassure him again. Would rather enjoy it, if he latched onto me as he did more often…

My, my.

Get a firm grip on reality, Sebastian, and quickly. One might start to think you're becoming attached…

That Master of mine.
He makes me wonder.
Has me questioning everything I know about my devilish desires…
But I am a little hungry. Yes. That must be it… I'm hungry…
Nothing more.

AN: Really, after re-reading the first volume of Kuroshitsuji, I realized that Sebastian sounds like a frustrated house wife ^_^ Chin up, Sebby. At least you have a young, rich husband to keep you in line =P

Hope you enjoyed ;)