I do not claim to own Kuroshitsuji. I love it though.

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Sebastian was a scared man- or rather- a scared demon, for what ailed the hearts of men could not compare the selfish fear of a creature from such dark natures. Guns and mortal threats bore no risk to Sebastian whom without physical form could still exist to plague needy sinners; but to loose his very existence that could not be reformed like so many simple human souls, his spiritual remains fouled by vengeful shinigami, to have no thoughts or plots, no sense of taste, or sense at all- something that no being could imagine for that state itself requires no imagination- he was scared of becoming nothing.

Ceil was admirable, able to acknowledge that this would be his fate once consumed, with a chance for reincarnation the same as Sebastians- none- and to pursue this path nonetheless successfully… for shame. Sebastian was in comparison inadequate to his human master.

And though he wanted nothing more than the wondrous soul of his Ceil to return to the demonic chasm within Sebastian, where all delectable souls reside, should the one tracking the boys soul be far too superior an opponent for Sebastian to face, as his instincts suspected it was, he would leave Ceil to the hunger of the wolf an flee, himself intact.

He could see Ceil's new face as it came to the revelation that he was sacrificial meat in Sebastian's scheme. And even so the lips would curve to smile ever innocent and understanding. And Sebastian would leave feeling guilt he should not be capable of and the loss of his best meal. Perhaps it was more regret than guilt.

But one soul was not equivalent to Sebastian's self proclaimed worth.

The demon grinned feeling superior and resolved with this internal argument; characteristically smirking still he served the young master his afternoon refreshment.

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"Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth, unapt to toil and trouble in the world,

but that our soft conditions and our hearts should well agree with our external parts?"

(Taming of the Shrew)

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Ceil crossed her legs- nay they should be open, knees apart commanding space and presence- and they would be were it not for the gap between her thighs that although not a sight usually to be seen she thought the world would stare and know that this body only masqueraded as a boy. If she placed an arm to drape over her upper thigh so that the hand attached rested conveniently over the spot wanting to be concealed they- the onlooker- would then notice the effeminately delicate digits and the softened skin around thin knuckles that surely was not due to her youth but to the womanliness of her body. From there eyes travelled up the limbs, across her concealed chest and over shoulders- made from pretty little bird bones it seemed, and onto the face that if you really examined the jaw line and the mantle you saw it lacked its former developing masculinity.

Insecurity made the resurrected Phantomhive paranoid; time made this feeling grow exponentially larger.

Is this really I, thought Ceil, pondering over a reflection backwards in the silver tea spoon with which he'd just stirred into the mixture four more cubes of cane sugar- each dissolving slowly into the tea until their existence was no longer. How quickly the tea devoured them. He continued with his thinking; Sebastian is like tea.

"Something troubling the young master?" Sebastian dutifully asked.

"Nothing— The Viscount' tea has poor flavor."

"It is indeed regrettable that his hospitality did not include high quality teas, my Lord." The sugar cubes went to waste as Sebastian took from Ceil the still full cup from the table before the young Lord since it was made clear that the beverage would not be touched otherwise.

Ceil of course should be accommodating for his less that humbled host. "The fragrance wasn't the worst however." But no more than that.

Moving on to other matters: "I've been unable to tack down the servants, save for Finnian who's left quite the disturbance in his wake- the others are more discreet being military trained- but I've penned letters of invitation to resume work should their locations become known. I've taken the liberty of also sending some reassuring correspondence to old acquaintances should we happen to come across them in our work. And the plans for rebuilding your estate for the second time are going swimmingly—."

"Leave it be. I've no need for my own mansion. I expect to be finished with this business quickly and the Viscount is exceedingly accommodating."

"My Lord…" The butler began before Ciel resumed once more.

"There were no plans in our contract for me to return to life and I'd hoped not to return to these god forsaken streets. I belong to you, Sebastian." The Earl looked to her butler with unspeakable longing that was so intense the degree could not be calculated. Ceil could not be sure, for one is not conscious of their nonexistence, but it should have been better than this living world she'd formerly left behind. Mayhap Sebastian thought she was a stickler for the fine print in contracts.

Deep sienna eyes, borderline red, looked troubled. "Of course, My Lord."

There seemed to be a disconnection in the confidence in the girl's voice and in her body language. Same for Sebastian's demeanor and expression. The room was filled with personal tensions so thick that anyone joining them would feel unwelcome just from the mix of energies about them. Only an idiot would insist on joining them.

And so the Viscount proceeded to walk in.

AN: and so... second chapter. Well the good stories always start out slow. Does it make you curious for what comes next? I am, i could use some interest so go along with this bland. it is what it is, and it was neccessary- chapter two is the reason for sebastian's actions in chapter one. and blah biddy blah blah blah i'm blathering- is that the word? i dont know, i just really like alliteration. :)