Thank you guys for hanging in there, I also want to thank all of you who are reviewing. You will see PMs soon, I've been really busy with my job, they are training me on the register as well as the bakery and on the slicer. So this chapter and not breaking it into two is the full portion. I apologize in advance for the length or any typos I missed.
Thank you,
Kuro.
Chapter 15: Dessert 6: Withered Flowers of Dreams
Red eyes glanced over the few boxes in the room; he had a total of two boxes plus the trunk. He sighed as he looked them over, to think that his life fit in three boxes and a trunk. Everything he owned could be set inside each cardboard container, tapes up, labeled with a marker and catalogued. Part of him wondered if he really was worthy of his job and life. His existence has been filled with torment and pain, he had no idea what Ciel would do to him. Sebastian was well aware that his life now belonged to the young man, and Ciel could do as he pleased with it. There was a loud knock on his door, "That must be the movers," he muttered as he walked toward the door and opened it. Standing dressed in white with a cap on his head was the man who would help him load his life into a truck. "Hello are you Mr. Michaelis?" he asked with a smile. It was cold and told Sebastian all that mattered was getting him out of his flat and into Ciel's penthouse.
"Yes," replied Sebastian as he allowed the man to enter his flat, he looked around and paused. There was silence for a moment as he looked at the boxes, he was clearly expecting more, "Is this all of it?" he asked after a moment, there was a note of disbelief in his voice. Sebastian nodded and said slowly, "Yeah, that's all of it." The man looked over his shoulder and seemed slightly apologetic, "I see, well then let's get these on the trunk," he said enthusiastically before picking up one of the brown boxes. The Pậtissier nodded as he picked up the second one and left the trunk for when they returned.
Ironically he had more when he lived in Paris, however he didn't have the money to take it with him when he moved so he had given it to a handful of friends. Keeping only what was the most important to him, it seemed to be as though every time something happened there was a brown box close by that he could shove his life into. The day he left Paris, Sebastian swore he felt his heart being ripped out of his chest. He wasn't as attached to the flat he had now as that one. He chuckled as he thought about it, it had a single window, shared a bathroom with other tenants, and the door would get stuck from time to time. Yet the view was to die for, now he was in dreary and dank London. He hummed as he helped the mover pick up his trunk it was the heaviest, filled with books, clothing and memories.
Once the trunk was loaded, Sebastian watched the mover slam to door of the massive truck closed. He honestly thought it was amusing that Ciel had sent it, "The furniture?" asked the man after a moment. Sebastian slipped his hands into his pockets and replied, "Sold, there is a new tenant who doesn't have any, so it's his." The landlord had already closed the contract with Sebastian and was going to have someone new move in that morning. Ciel must have called to terminate it, Sebastian was irritated that Ciel hadn't bothered to allow him to take care of it. He could tell already that they weren't going to get along. Ciel was high handed and the type to have others bow at his feet and do as he commanded without a second thought. "Okay," the man stated as he walked around the truck and jumped into the driver's side. Sebastian followed suit and sat on the passenger side, he had a new life, and not because he wanted it. "It looks like I'm a good, and not a person," he muttered as he looked at his hands. He began to realize he was a fool for thinking he could be anything more than an asset.
"What was that?" asked the mover curiously as he continued down the street, Sebastian watched the buildings improve in condition as they drove uptown. Slowly the dirty windows, graffiti covered walls and ragged people turned into a place of shining white and silver. With shop windows that had been polished to perfection, clothes with far too many zeros on their price tags were displayed on the other side. Women walked with bags filled with brand name clothes chatting away on their mobiles, men dashed buy in suits looking perfect in every way. He really was trading his flat for the glistening silver, gold and ivory palaces of the wealthy. The truck came to a stop before Ciel's building and turned to the back of the building to use the service elevator, "They don't want us to scuff up the marble floor in the foyer," commented the mover. Sebastian looked at the two large metal doors, he knew the real reason he didn't belong. He was Ciel's newest pet, not a chef.
~~xXx~~
A silver case sat on Ciel's Living room table, he had prepared the money and Sebastian was downstairs, all that was left was to hand it off to Angela. Once that was complete Sebastian belonged to him and would never be able to leave his side. Ciel grinned, perhaps this game was the most amusing yet, he knew Alois had slept with Claude it wouldn't take the blond long to get into the man's pants. He hummed as he stared at his mobile, Alois also hadn't replied to his text which meant his hips hurt too badly to go looking for his phone. That was honestly the only time the blond didn't respond. "I will win, Sebastian has been forced to move in with me, it's only a matter of time before I crush him," Ciel mumbled darkly.
The ringing of his mobile split the air causing him to jump a little, it was an unknown number which meant either Grell had just gotten a new phone and was calling to give him the number or it was Angela. He was hoping for the second, he had zero interest in hearing Grell tell him about the wonderful night he had with a tall dark and handsome man, only to get mugged. To this day he had no idea who would both sleep with Grell and mug him, both seemed dangerous. The redhead tended to be violent and rather unpredictable. Ciel swiped his finger across the screen and answered, "Phantomhive." There was a pause followed by a chuckle on the other end of the line, it was sensual in sound and far too light to belong to Grell. "It's nice to see that you bark at everyone, dear earl. I have a feeling that your bark is worse than your bite though," the woman replied. Ciel crossed his legs, "Who is this?" he demanded. He had to keep this woman in check or she would attempt to break off their deal.
"Angela Blanc," she replied smoothly, he heard her blow a puff of smoke on the other end. He figured she would smoke as she did business she seemed like the type. "Nice to hear from you, I have the funds," Ciel stated smoothly, there was a pause and he could tell she hadn't been expecting that. "Cash, in Euros, unmarked and untraceable," he replied as he grinned. Well not every business was innocent, his father's was no exception. After all Vincent was one of those people who operated in the dark, toys were a way in which he atoned for his sins. "I was under the impression it would take five business days," she stated slowly, he could hear the distrust in her voice.
Ciel was wearing a smug grin, of course he had gone out of his way, he wanted to make sure this disappeared, "Let's just say I pulled a few strings," replied Ciel. The longer this hung out in the open the worse this would get. Ciel knew better than anyone how to sink another business, it was one of the first lessons Vincent taught him. The second was making things vanish, "I see, the little earl takes after his father, Vincent must be proud," she sneered. That was perhaps the greatest tip-off, she used his father's first name, and clearly she knew what the Phantomhives were really like. The truth behind the façade of flourishing companies, elegant restaurants and lavish parties. "Like father like son, now then about the drop," he commented, "When, where and details."
He could hear pages shifting in the background as Angela went looking for something, "Not a local I see," commented Ciel with laughter in his voice. He had a feeling she was looking for a print out. Angela sighed and replied, "No the morons I have working for me are useless, good help is so hard to find these days." Ciel swept a hand through his hair, he knew that one a little too well, Grell had a tendency of scaring people away, Mei Rin dropped everything and Bard, well there was a reason the man wasn't allowed near his kitchen. "You're preaching to the choir," Ciel commented as he remembered the explosion that nearly took out his restaurant because Bard thought he was helping Claude. He had honestly never seen the head chef look that angry, it was as though he had been possessed by a demon as he threw cutlery at the man and kicked him out. Claude's aim was spot on as well, it was a wonder Bard had escaped unscathed. She hummed and replied, "Your staff seems capable, at least at the restaurant." Ciel swept a hand through his hair, he could tell she was buying herself time to look for the page.
"When Grell behaves yes, if not we just tie him up and leave him in the back, gagged," replied Ciel. She found the sheet and hummed with a note of triumph, "Gagged?" she asked curiously and Ciel groaned. He knew that part wouldn't get by her. "Let's just say he insists on being a lady even when he's a full grown man and curses us out over it," he replied. He could still remember how hard William fought to get the crazed redhead to calm down, naturally he didn't tie Grell up, Soma had stopped him. Agni decided it was more beneficial to have Grell wear the red outfit he wanted, minus the heels.
"The drop will be just outside the Tower of London, fitting isn't it?" she asked teasingly. She was having far too much fun with selecting locations; of course she would pick one of London's most famous places of death and torture as well as the crown jewels. "Yeah, the time?" Ciel asked with irritation. He wanted to get this over with, "Fifteen minutes from now, don't look for us, we will find you," she stated before hanging up. "How cliché can she be?" he asked as he got up from the sofa and snatched the case, Sebastian would just have to wait until Ciel handed off the case.
~~xXx~~
The smell of paprika, onions, basil and tomatoes filled the flat as the sun rose, it was a wonderful medley. Claude rolled over and hummed, he loved the scent, in his opinion it made his flat, home. There was a sizzle in the distance as something hit the pan that was coated in butter. A grin swept across the chef's lips, tomato, onion, basil and mozzarella crêpes sounded wonderful. He could smell the eggs and purred with delight, it was cruel when his mind decided to make breakfast for him and he wasn't near the kitchen. "Coffee sounds good too," he mumbled before turning over and snuggling back into the pillow. The smell of eggs became even stronger and was accompanied by the scent of charcoal. He didn't remember having a bag in the kitchen, it wasn't time to grill and he would never grill eggs. He heard a familiar, "FUCK!" as the fire alarm went off.
Claude jumped to attention and slipped his glasses on as he dashed out of his room. His golden eyes widened with shock as he stared at Alois, the young man was leaning against counter and holding the spatula he had used. His eyes were wide with terror as he stared at the pan which, was now aflame, clearly not on purpose either. Claude reached around the corner and pulled a red fire extinguisher, in seconds the pin was out and the white foam covered the pan. A fog filled the room from the smoke as Claude continued to put the flames out. By the time he had managed to snuff them out the counter was covered in the white cloud like foam. The air was thick with smoke and difficult to breathe, it stung the golden eyed head chef's throat and nose. He placed the fire extinguisher down and opened one of the windows to air out what was left of his kitchen.
Alois had the spatula in his hand and was scrapping what had been eggs off of his frying pan; obviously he was going to have to replace it. "Alois what were you trying to do?" asked Claude, he purposely placed a great deal of emphasis on the word "trying". Mornings with Alois were never a good thing, from dealing with his hangover and drunken ways to him attempting to be romantic, something in Claude's flat was destroyed in his wake. "I wanted to make you breakfast," he said with a hint of sadness, his lower lip protruded slightly as he gave a childish pout. Claude sighed, he didn't like it when Alois attempted to cook, things always went horribly wrong. "I see, so you were making eggs, and," he paused as he looked at the second pan, "soldiers?" he asked as he looked at the other black pan. He would have to replace them both. "Soldiers? I didn't make sausage, that's bacon," he replied with pride.
Claude paled and stared at the pan in utter confusion, "Bacon?" he asked slowly as he pointed at it. Something had gone very wrong somewhere along the line. Alois nodded enthusiastically, "Yup." Claude was silent as he attempted to piece together something to tell the small bartender who was parading around in a pair of his boxers and a shirt of his. He sighed and made a note to wash those as well, "Um, what happened?" he asked slowly, he wasn't dense he knew it was burnt, but he had never seen it burnt to such a degree. Alois picked up the pan and jabbed it at Claude, "What do you mean! It's still bacon! Taste it!" he commanded. Claude shook his head and held up his hand as the pan was shoved at him, "Taste it?" asked the Head Chef, he had been asked to taste many things, but never food that had been reduced to charcoal. He had eaten eel, alligator, possum, snake, and even insects, but charcoal was out-of-bounds for him. "I think I'll pass," he commented as he gently took the pan from Alois' hands and placed it on the stove.
"I'll make breakfast," he stated as he walked over to the refrigerator, there had to be something left in it that he could craft into food he considered edible. In the back of his mind he was happy he had slipped into loungers in the middle of the night after Alois had gone to the bathroom. He opened the door and stared blankly at his now empty fridge, there was no way it was empty now, he had gone shopping a few days ago. "Alois, please tell me you didn't use all the food in here," he commented as he leaned his head on the door. There was silence, and he looked over his shoulder to see Alois smiling nervously and swinging his hips from side to side. "I didn't use all the food," he replied with a large nervous grin. Claude sighed and shook his head, "Liar, it's gone and now I have to go shopping," he grumbled as he closed the door. Once it closed he leaned his head on the smooth cold surface, and began to wonder just what he did for god to play such a cruel joke on him. He must have royally fucked up somewhere, either that or god had far too much time on his hands.
The Head Chef ran a hand through his unkempt black hair and sighed, "Okay, let's get food." Alois jumped and threw the spatula across the room, yet another thing he would have to clean later, "YAY, let's go to that huge market Claude!" Alois cried with glee, "Perhaps I can find something there I can cook!" Claude's eyes widened as he thought of the day he had first gone with Alois, he didn't want to end up with a bunch of things he didn't want, and a replay of him burning Claude's flat to the ground wasn't in the cards either. "NO!" Claude cried without thinking, it was a recurring nightmare named Alois. The bartender jumped and looked at him in confusion and fear, the chef paused after realizing what he had just done, "I mean, no, let's go out," he said with a fake smile. He wanted to spare his kitchen from Alois making breakfast, part two.
"I knew you had a romantic bone in your body somewhere!" he chirped. Claude smiled again and nodded, it wasn't about romance, it was about sparing his kitchen another disaster. "There is this wonderful place not far from the Tower of London, not the best backdrop but the food is good," he commented. Alois nodded enthusiastically as he skipped back into Claude's bedroom to get dressed in what the man hoped would be decent.
"Dear god, give me strength, if you don't I may just call Lucifer up instead and see if he can," he grumbled before following the now happy-go-lucky bartender.
~~xXx~~
The streets were crowded with people as they looked at the famous structure, all of them were gaping at it's size and whispering of the famous executions which had occurred there. Ciel continued wandering through the group in search of the woman with white hair, he looked at his wristwatch and grumbled, she was late. He honestly didn't like it when people wasted his time. People stared at him as he walked by in his blue suit with silver case in hand, "Claude look! That guy looks like Ciel!" he heard a familiar shout. Ciel froze, there was no way Alois was there, that would be far too inconvenient. "Alois, don't simply point at people and scream," Claude chided. Ciel groaned and shook his head, of course the king of all inconveniences was there while he was trying to do business. "What? He's dressed like Ciel would be, complete with the stick up his ass and prudish suit," Alois stated.
Ceil blinked twice, he looked at his reflection in a window and mumbled, "I don't look like a prude," he paused, "do I?" The blue haired owner shook his head, Angela wouldn't be happy if she saw Alois, he sighed and asked, "Why today?" In moments he vanished into the crowd and looked frantically for Angela. He didn't need Alois to see him and ask one thousand and one questions about what was in the case. His phone rang loudly and he grumbled as he attempted to ditch the pair. "Phantomhive," he barked. There was a pause before a feminine voice hissed, "I thought you would come alone, I didn't think I would have to get that specific." Ciel turned on his heel as he rounded a corner, "Do you honestly think I have a clue what Alois is doing here with my Head Chef? I have no clue what he is thinking half the time or where he is! How could I ask him to come with me?" he asked as he found a place to take a seat with an abandoned newspaper.
He could hear Alois' heels as he dashed after him, "Claude come on I want to see if it's Ciel," Alois cried as he chased after the blue haired owner. Claude looked less than thrilled, "Alois the idea was getting breakfast, not chasing a stranger," the Head Chef stated. Alois ignored him as always and continued, "But this is more fun, besides, just think of it as a date!" Claude stopped running and tilted his head in confusion, "How in god's name is visiting the Tower of London a romantic date," he shouted. Alois shrugged his slender shoulders and continued after Ciel, the blue haired owner slipped into the seat and fanned the newspaper open so it covered his face. He crossed his legs and attempted to look as though he had been there for a while. The silver case was resting at his side, his sapphire eyes never left it.
The clicking stopped and he could tell Alois was standing before him, "Where did he go?" asked Alois in confusion as he looked around. He grumbled something and walked up to Ciel, "Hey, have you seen a guy in his twenties with sapphire eyes, slate hair and a navy blue suit with a silver case?" Alois asked sweetly. Ciel sighed and began to wonder how slow the blond was, he pointed across the plaza, and he coughed and replied, "There," in a fake raspy voice. Alois nodded and cried, "Thanks mister, nice silver case!" as he dashed away. Ciel shook his head and groaned, only Alois wouldn't notice the obvious. "ALOIS TRANCY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING!" Claude shouted angrily as he dashed after the blond he looked around hastily. Clearly Alois was ahead in the game, which didn't matter he would catch up soon enough. "Sir, which way did a bubbly blond go, he was short and wearing a pair of booty shorts and high heels," Claude commented. Ciel was silent as he thought about which way to point, he could be nice and point them in the same direction but stuck out his tongue, this was far more fun. He jabbed his thumb in the opposite direction he had sent Alois. "Thanks," Claude said before running after the blond.
"You honestly don't know how to play fair do you?" asked Angela with a chuckle. Ciel folded the paper and placed it on the table. He hummed and shrugged, "Well, serves them right. Claude should really keep him on a leash or something," he commented. Angela took a seat across from him, she smelt of the same perfume with cigarettes, "The money?" she asked. Ciel guided the case toward her with his toe, "All yours," he commented. He was wearing a pair of black surgical gloves and she chuckled, "A clean drop, you really are Vincent's son," she remarked as she slipped her hands into white gloves and picked up the case. "And you are a mobster, they usually carry those around," Ciel observed. Angela's violet eyes fell on his sapphires as she smiled, "Well, we all have our niche, besides, I never said I was a good girl," she remarked.
Ciel smirked as he watched her pick it up and hand it to a young man dressed in white as well, "Check it," she muttered. The man bowed as he vanished, "Anything else, or can I leave once you determine that I am true to my word?" asked Ciel gruffly. Angela smiled again, it was the same from the one in his office, dark and filled with a hint of something dangerous. Vincent had the same one, "How is your father these days?" she probed. Ciel's eyes narrowed, he wasn't about to answer, "Busy," was all he could say. He didn't pay any attention to his father's affairs. She chuckled as she looked at her fingers, "You know, it's regrettable that I have to let Sebastian go. He was quite beautiful," she commented.
"Was?" asked Ciel after a moment, as far as he was concerned Sebastian was still both handsome and capable. Angela sighed, "You'll see soon enough that he's damaged goods," she remarked as she sat back and slipped one of her hands through her hair. "Damaged?" asked Ciel cautiously, Sebastian was arrogant and haughty in his mind, he couldn't see how Sebastian would be considered damaged, other than the fact that he wasn't really sleeping. "Nightmares, and he has some interesting ones, at least that's what my sources tell me," she commented. Ciel was still, he began to wonder what he had just gotten into. "How bad?" asked Ciel. Angela sighed and shrugged, "I'm not sure, he never talks about them, he just acknowledges he has them. I don't think he need's therapy," she commented.
Ciel was about to say something when the man returned with the case, "It's clean, immaculate actually," he commented with a note of awe. Angela hummed as she got up and looked at him, "He's yours, nice to do business with you, Phantomhive," she commented as she walked away. Ciel stared as she walked away, on the page of the newspaper before him was an announcement with the last name he ever expected to see attached to the restaurant as both chef and owner, Ash Landers. "So you've come back to London, and just when I thought I had gotten us out of the woods," Ciel commented as he looked at the black and white photo of the man. It seemed to be one thing after another he just couldn't seem to win. "It's just another challenge he commented as he swiped the paper and began to walk away. He was honestly wondering if Sebastian was worth the trouble he was causing.
~~xXx~~
Sebastian sighed as he looked over the apartment, work had gone well, yet Claude refused to look at him. Even when it came to his deserts, the Head Chef would simply pull out a golden fork, cut into it and take a bite. As he chewed he would ruminate on the taste and simply commented, "Good," before walking away. It seemed as though Claude had lost all interest in Sebastian, all that mattered was that his desserts tasted good. It hurt in an unusual way, he felt as though the one person that had seen him for him had turned a blind eye. He began to wonder if Ciel had told him about his debt. He sighed, he had a feeling that he wouldn't be forgiven for his mistakes. Ciel had been out for the evening, he was called into his father's office on the other side of London. He was walking around in his boxers and a tee-shirt, his chest still hurt, however Agni was kind enough to wrap it twice that day. Once before his shift began and again before he had left for the evening.
Yet, he still couldn't sleep, his mind was reeling. Ciel had paid his debt which meant in reality he was free of all his ties to France, but he could still remember it. Those moments in which he was trapped in that dark room, lit by the moon, covered in rose petals and tied up with rope. Gagged, bound and raped, those hands that made his skin crawl. "I need sleep," he muttered as he wandered into the kitchen of the flat. His eyes glided over the glistening stainless steel. His fingers slipped over the cool counters. He slowly opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a canister of dried yellow flowers. They were shriveled and dead, much like the sleep he had desired. He looked at the quality and sniffed them, their aroma was as powerful as ever, "Perhaps with this I can sleep tonight," he muttered as he placed it on the counter and went in search of the mortar and pestle.
Sebastian opened each cabinet in search for it and began to wonder who would buy the whole herb and not have the thing required to grind them into powder as well. In the distance he could hear the door of the flat swing closed and footsteps approaching, they seemed to echo through the stillness of the flat, despite Sebastian's rummaging through cabinets to find the one thing he needed. He heard a cough and turned around to see Ciel standing before him. "What are you doing up at this time of night?" asked the slate haired young man with irritation. Sebastian was about to say something when he spotted the desired tool behind his head in a glass case. "Ah, there it is," Sebastian said happily was he strode past Ciel to open the case and pull the silver mortar and pestle, he didn't like stainless steel but it would have to do.
"Making something for you to snack on," he replied smoothly, he figured Ciel was an insomniac, which would be the only reason to keep such an herb around. He dumped some of the canister into the mortar and picked up the club like pestle, it was cold and he could feel the slick steel between his fingers, he much preferred the granite one he had used in college. However, he had given his to a friend before leaving Paris; he saw no need to carry it anymore. The crunch of dried leaves against the smooth surface of the mortar as the pestle ground it fill the room. "I didn't ask for a snack," Ciel stated with irritation. Sebastian hummed and nodded as he continued to grin the shriveled dead flowers into a fine powder. "I am aware, however this will help you go to sleep," he replied as he continued to work the herb, grinding it into submission. Sapphire eyes gazed at the contents of the silver dish like mortar skeptically; Sebastian didn't expect Ciel to believe that what he was making would help insomnia. He simply hoped that by cooking he would be pulled out of his personal hell for just enough time to piece his life back together.
"What is that?" asked Ciel, his nose was slightly scrunched and he was already turning it down, and he hadn't even seen the other ingredients Sebastian intended to add. "Chamomile," Sebastian replied and glanced over his shoulder at the massive oven behind him, "Could you set the oven to 176 (1)?" he asked. Ciel walked behind the man and turned the knob, "Set," he replied gruffly. He honestly wasn't amused, and Sebastian could tell. He was using the same irritated tone that he had when Sebastian had first served Ciel a dish. The same cold, distant and bored voice which made him feel as though he had failed before even trying. He pulled out a copper measuring cup and reached for the larger silver canister on the counter with a clasp on it. "What kind of snack?" asked Ciel after a moment, the sound of a chair being dragged away from the kitchen table accompanied the question. He still sounded rather board.
"You'll see, if you're patient enough," Sebastian said with a smile, it was times like these that Ciel reminded the Pậtissier of a small child waiting to open his gifts. He could remember the children's even he had done, all the kids were fascinated by his work. So interested that Sebastian had to explain every step, which he didn't mind, he found it endearing. All of the other chefs were annoyed and scared the kids away. Ciel huffed, "Don't test me, Pậtissier," he commented. Sebastian glanced over his shoulder to see Ciel sitting backward in the chair, his arms rested on top of the back-rest, his chin was resting on top of his forearms as he lazily watched the chef. His hair was a mess, and he looked nothing like the prim and proper Ciel from that dreaded interview, he looked more like an exhausted twenty year old. Sebastian hummed and smiled playfully, "I wouldn't dream of it," he replied as he dumped two and three-quarters cups of flour into a large glass mixing bowl.
Once that was done he opened the baking powder as well as baking soda, "Yeah, right," commented Ciel he was quiet for a moment, it seemed as though he felt the need to fill the space. Something which Sebastian understood, it was awkward to have someone who was relatively unknown in his flat. "Sebastian, just what did your father do?" asked Ciel after a moment. White hands stilled before adding the half a teaspoon of baking powder to the bowl. His hand trembled slightly before dumping it's contents into the bowl. He sighed as he slipped his hand into his hair, "He was an investment banker," he replied slowly before turning to the massive refrigerator and pulled out a stick of unsalted butter and set it on the chopping block, so it would soften up. "And?" asked Ciel curiously, clearly he wanted more information, and part of Sebastian began to wonder if Angela had spoken about something she shouldn't have.
"He decided to swindle a number of mob bosses out of their money," replied Sebastian, "basically he decided to invest their funds in companies which didn't exist and pocket it and ran off to, Tahiti." Ciel was silent as he looked at the chef in confusion, Sebastian never gave off the air of a rich child. Then again he wasn't raised with a platinum spoon in his mouth, he was thrown into an orphanage over his father's stupidity. He slowly reached over and both the pre-measured salt and the freshly ground Chamomile. "Did he pull it off?" asked Ciel slowly.
Sebastian picked up the softened stick of butter after snapping the silver bowl into the red Kitchenaid electric mixer. "He attempted it, however someone caught on to the way he was moving money. As a result, I was dropped off at an orphanage," Sebastian replied. Ciel was silent, most people used that kind of information as artillery for picking on him. He heard one of the drawers roll open and looked up to see Ciel holding a silver knife between his fingers, "You needed this, right?" he asked hesitantly. For once his gaze wasn't filled with disdain but sadness. "Thanks," Sebastian replied as he used the knife to slowly add a cup of butter to the batter, he had it set to low. "Sugar?" Sebastian asked hesitantly as he looked around nervously. Ciel handed him the canister soundlessly. The dull rumble of the mixer echoed through the room as Sebastian added the sugar.
"What was it like?" asked Ciel after a moment; Sebastian had plucked a smaller glass cup from the cabinet as well as the carton of eggs, lemon, lemon juice and honey. "What like?" asked Sebastian curiously as he tapped the large white egg against the glass with one hand. Small fractures appeared in the shell and he gently squeezed to pull the shell apart and free the yolk and white from it's shell. It landed into the glass and not a shard of the shell followed, he hummed as he tossed it into the mixer. Ciel's mouth was ajar slightly before he smiled a little and shook his head. "The orphanage," Ciel replied after a moment.
Of course Ciel had to ask about the thing in his past he would rather erase, to forget just so he could sleep. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath as he debated about telling the truth. Ciel seemed like the type that would react poorly if an employee admitted to being abused as a child, let alone rapes by the man who was supposed to protect him. "I don't remember much," he lied, that was the best thing for now, to lie. Sebastian grabbed a small grater and held it over the silver bowl as he gently scraped the lemon across it to remove the top layer of the rind. The smell of lemons flooded the room and brought a little ease to his troubled mind. "Really?" asked Ciel curiously, his eyes were wide with curiosity, at that moment he decided he wouldn't tell Ciel unless he had to. No one could ever know what happened among the roses, and under the moonlight.
"Yes," he replied after setting down the lemon and opening the bottle of vanilla, another scent he liked. It was soft, sweet and comforting, three things which Sebastian had very little experience around, except for when he was in the arms of the Head Chef, Claude Faustus. Oddly there he felt safe, that night he didn't have a single nightmare while sleeping beside him. Out of all the people Sebastian knew, Claude was the only one which seemed to stop the nightmares. He slowly dipped the honey dipper into the bottle and began measuring six tablespoons of it. Once he had made it a smooth mixture he turned the mixer off and unlatched it from the base. Ciel's eyes followed Sebastian's movements as he pulled a baking sheet and lined it with parchment paper. With a glistening silver spoon Sebastian dipped it into the bowl and pulled a portion of the batter out of it. With the tip of his finger he coaxed it off the curved surface of the utensil and watched it stick to the parchment. The oven was finally up to temperature and he was coming to the end of his attempt to flee from his life.
Ciel was quiet as Sebastian finished putting the drop cookies on the sheet and slipped the two pans into the oven. Once this was done he picked up a small white box and chuckled, it was a farewell gift from a professor. "What is that?" asked Ciel curiously as Sebastian tipped the box in his hand and an unusual item slipped out. Resting in the palm of his hand was a timer with a black base and a small gray mouse sitting upon a clear dome. Trapped beneath the dome was a black cat which was extremely confused. He twisted the time so a small cheese shaped wedge on the base was lined up with the eighteen on the base. "Now we wait," commented Sebastian as he began to clean up his mess.
Eighteen minutes passed slowly, and the timer seemed to summon Sebastian's attention, "Done," he breathed as he opened the oven. With a black mitt he pulled the trays from the searing heat and placed them on the glass cutting board. Ciel was looking over the small golden brown biscuits, they looked simple, they looked nothing like the glorious cakes he served. With the edge of a spatula he slowly picked up a cookie and held it out to Ciel. "Here, try it for sweeter dreams," Sebastian said with a sad smile. He didn't intend for Ciel to see them, yet he was a little nervous, it was such a simple recipe.
Ciel slowly broke a piece of the soft and hot cookie in his hands. It was perfect, and Sebastian could tell that from the fact that it didn't make a hard snap or crumble. Once young man had finally slipped a piece between his lips Sebastian followed suit. He closed his eyes as he tasted the bitterness of chamomile; it danced on his tongue and was spurred onward by the acidic lemon, which seemed to nip at the back of his tongue. Finally the sweet notes of honey chimed in, coupling the bitterness of the chamomile and tartness of the lemon. "Isn't chamomile put in tea?" asked Ciel. Sebastian opened his burgundy eyes and looked at him with a small smile, "Yes, it's used to soothe and relax the mind before bed," he replied as he grabbed a few cookies.
Notes:
(1) 176 degrees Celsius is equivalent to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
This recipe is from a wonderful blog called "Snixty Kitchen", feel free to PM me for the link. The Recipe belongs entirely to her. Feel free to take a look.