Author's Note:
I want to take the opportunity to thank all of you who have been reviewing, I received a huge number of reviews on the last chapter. Those of you who have been reviewing anonymously, thank you. I know this Ciel isn't your typical one, I thought this would be what he could have been like if he hadn't lost his parents.
That being said proceed with caution, this chapter contains a very graphic and dark lemon. Let me just remind you Ciel is intoxicated, before all of you shout at me. People do horrible things when they are drunk, so just remember that.
Chapter 17: Fractured Roses
Ciel's command rang in Sebastian's ears, he closed his eyes and began to wish that someone would save him. The slate haired young man chuckled, "Closing your eyes won't make me disappear," said Ciel with a grin. His large hands that were stilling ink black leather gloves swept down Sebastian's neck and pectorals, "These scars, are new, they are still quite swollen," he commented as he slowly swept his hand over one of Sebastian's nipples. The Pậtissier whimpered and jerked away, his lips moved to protest, yet nothing came out of them. His heart was pounding, Ciel really wasn't different from Francis, "Despite that, it's still beautiful," Ciel breathed. Sebastian felt as though all of his power had been taken from him.
Ciel was his new owner, which meant if he desired sex, Sebastian had to please him. He shied away from Ciel's hands, he didn't want this, his head was a mess. Nothing was making sense, he had been trained to accept the treatment his masters bestowed upon him. Yet with Ciel it felt wrong, the young man was his boss, he wasn't attracted to him. His lips moved but the words refused to come out, he was trapped inside his own body. Praying for the young man to somehow sober quickly sober up. Ciel's hands traveled down Sebastian's sides, beckoning for the man to enjoy himself. The soft and supple black leather that, covered them sent shivers through him. "Come on Sebastian, touch me," he demanded. The Pậtissier shook his head violently. "P-Please, n-not... this. I will do... an-anything but this," he stammered as Ciel pressed Sebastian into the counter, the lip of it was being forced into the small of his back. Soft and delicate fingers slipped down Sebastian's abdomen, tracing his scars.
"Now I understand what she meant," Ciel commented, his sapphire eyes narrowed deviously as he grinned. Sebastian shuddered as the young man slowly gripped his member, Sebastian hissed and pleaded, "Don't." Ciel licked his bottom lip and ignored him. His hands gripped the counter so that he had Sebastian pinned against it, "Don't what? You're far too gorgeous to pass up, Lizzy is hot but you," Ciel commented as he leaned in and licked the side of Sebastian's neck, "You are stunning," he whispered. Sebastian could feel his slick hot tongue against his neck and whimpered with fear. Sebastian was trapped between Ciel and the counter, he felt one of the young man's hands roam down his side and slip over his hip. "You're in a league of your own," Ciel whispered against Sebastian's neck, his voice traveled like a chill up his neck. "St-Stop," Sebastian stammered as he felt one of Ciel's hands grip his backside harshly.
"Why?" asked Ciel before he sank his teeth into Sebastian's slender and beautiful neck. "You must feel it too," he breathed as his other hand slowly ran up Sebastian's chest, his touch was light and Sebastian shivered with disgust. The scent of champagne and Ciel's cologne were combining, making Sebastian's stomach churn. He couldn't stand the musky scent mixing with the liquor from the champagne. Ciel's nimble fingers tweaked one of his nipples causing Sebastian to cry out. Tears that he had attempted to stop from falling were burning his eyes. "Please, I can't," he pleaded as Ciel's fingers began to knead his ass. He didn't want this, "Of course you can, just think of the pleasure," commented Ciel as he drove one of his legs between Sebastian's, forcing the Pậtissier to spread them. It wasn't until now Sebastian realized just how tall and strong Ciel was, he may have looked slender but clearly looks in this case were deceiving.
Sebastian finally willed his body to move and his hands shot up to push Ciel away, only for them to hit a firm chest. A chuckle left Ciel as he looked at Sebastian, "Honestly, you're too cute," he commented as he pulled his cravat off and harshly grabbed Sebastian's wrists, the Pậtissier struggled, twisting and squirming in an attempt to get away. "The more defiant you are, the more I want you. Lizzy was like this at first, it took a bit, but I got her in my bed," he said with an air of pride as he used the piece of cloth to bind Sebastian's wrists together. The fabric wasn't as harsh as the leather had been, however it wasn't comforting either. "You, why did your force her?" asked Sebastian nervously.
Ciel tipped his head to the side and chuckled, "Honestly, I'm rich, powerful and have quite the libido, why wouldn't I? Women are a game, I will admit I've never had a man though," he commented. Sebastian felt as the walls move in on him, as far as Ciel was concerned sex was a conquest like business. Sebastian gulped as he attempted to force Ciel off of him, only for Ciel to use his hands and force the Pậtissier to his knees. "You really don't get it, do you?" asked Ciel. Sebastian was looking at the floor, his mind was screaming to run, yet his body just wouldn't obey. Ciel grabbed Sebastian's hair and grinned, "You are mine, you will do as I say, when I say and how I say. I own you, there is no one who will save you," commented Ciel he stood proud, and Sebastian paled, he managed to find his voice, "No, never," he stated. Sebastian got up and pushed Ciel back with his bound hands. "I'm a Pậtissier, not a slave!" he replied.
He had finally found his voice, he drew a deep breath as he managed to stumble backward to get away, "I'm not a slave, I'm a Certified Pậtissier trained at one of the finest French Cuisine Colleges, Le Cordon Bleu," he proclaimed, hopefully his new found confidence would stay long enough for him to run. Ciel gripped Sebastian's hair and chuckled; he was at his full height and forced the Pậtissier to look at him. "You should really listen to what people are saying," Ciel hissed in return. His other hand gripped Sebastian's chin forcefully, "I'm telling you that you can't escape me, the best thing for you to do is pleasure me," he stated. Ciel undid several buttons on his vest and proceeded to unbutton his shirt. His toned body underneath was far more intimidating than the heavy set one of Father Francis from his nightmares. Ciel could hurt him far more than the priest ever could.
Ciel's free hand proceeded to unbuttoning his silver belt; the buckle fell to the side as did the dark brown leather end. He slowly slipped it off, and Sebastian stiffened, while Claude had set the belt down after a minute Ciel looked as though he would enjoy using it on Sebastian. The burgundy eyed Pậtissier was silent and stiffened as he heard Ciel snap the belt as he pulled it tightly. "You would look great in leather," commented Ciel as he looked down at Sebastian. He placed the belt on the counter and proceeded to unbuttoning his trousers. A grin of delight was on his lips, his slate hair had fallen out of place, and the tri-corner hat with the beautiful white plume sat on his head perfectly. He lifted one of his hands to his lips and tugged the black leather article off by the tip of his finger. Sebastian watched as the glove rolled off of his hand and was held in the young man's teeth, before he dropped it to the floor.
Ciel's fingers were cold in comparison to Claude's as they wrapped around his chin and he removed the second glove. His cold sapphire eyes never left Sebastian's face, the bitterness they held frightened the chef. "Lick it," he commanded with a dark smile. Sebastian stared at the man's trousers and shuddered, he closed his eyes as he attempted to calm his nerves, "No," he said firmly. Ciel glared, "What?" he asked harshly. Sebastian replied, "I wo," before he could finish Ciel slipped his thumb into Sebastian's mouth and forced it open. "You will," he hissed as he pushed Sebastian's tongue down with his thumb. Sebastian felt as though he were about to gag. His eyes closed as he felt Ciel's fingers inside his mouth, caressing his tongue and forcing it open. Francis had done something similar his first time. Shivers of fear wracked the Pậtissier's body as he felt his sense fall away from himself.
If he couldn't physically run, he would mentally. Ciel's fingers probed his mouth, forcing it open, he grinned with delight as he shoved his fingers into the Pậtissier's mouth as far as he could making him gasp. In a swift motion Ciel had managed to slip his large hard into Sebastian's mouth. The Pậtissier whimpered as he felt the hot thick length enter his mouth harshly. It tasted salty and made him remember the time Francis had forced him. "Use your tongue," Ciel demanded as he ran his fingers through Sebastian's silky black hair. Sebastian looked up at the pirate his skin was flushed, and his tongue ran over his lower lip. Even if Sebastian wasn't attracted to him, there was no way he could deny that any other person would have loved to do it with this man. His burgundy eyes fluttered closed, he didn't want to bite Ciel, if he did he might have received a beating like Francis often bestowed upon him.
Sebastian's hesitantly ran his tongue around the head and drew back, he couldn't do a good job if Ciel kept forcing it down his throat. Ciel was about to protest only for Sebastian to look up at him and run his tongue around the head of his throbbing member. Sapphire eyes glowed with desire as his fingers twisted in Sebastian's hair, "I knew you'd understand, satisfy me," he whispered darkly. His voice hummed in Sebastian's ears as he slowly ran his tongue down the man's thick shaft and his lips ghosted over the thick piece of flesh. Ciel growled as he felt Sebastian's tongue wrap around him. The Pậtissier took this as a sign to continue, his lips parted and he teased Ciel's slit with his tongue. "You're good at this," commented Ciel, he was panting and Sebastian felt the young man's member hardening in his mouth as he descended upon it. The memory of Francis beating him if he didn't do well was fresh, it hurt but he wasn't going to provoke Ciel into doing the same.
Sebastian hollowed his cheeks as he sucked as hard as he could, Ciel's hips bucked forward and the owner groaned, "Way too good," he growled. Sebastian felt the young man's dick slowly leak pre-cum as he took Ciel even deeper; his tongue swirled around the base with ease. The slate haired young man's hips bucked again and his hands gripped Sebastian's head. "God I want to fuck your mouth," Ciel whispered darkly. Burgundy eyes opened and he looked at the sight above him, sweat dripped down Ciel's chest and his coat swayed, it was as though he had viewed the dark side of the moon. Ciel was nothing like his usual self, he was seductive, hot and more aggressive. Sebastian stilled and allowed the young man to thrust in and out of his mouth, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked, he could feel the thick member slipping into his throat. "Fuck," gasped Ciel as his hips moved more forcefully.
Sebastian felt as though he was being gagged as Ciel's hard length slipped down his throat. Tears stung his eyes and he felt as though he wanted to throw up, Sebastian didn't have a gag reflex, but the shear action of doing this with his boss was more than enough to sicken him. Ciel growled as he moved and finally pulled out, "Enough, I want to be inside you," he hissed as he forced Sebastian to his feet. The Pậtissier turned to run only for his chest to meet the unforgiving and cold granite counter. Ciel's fingers found the waistband of Sebastian's boxers with ease, "Has anyone ever touched you here?" asked Ciel with a grin.
Sebastian squirmed and attempted to break away only for Ciel to press his head into the counter with his hand, "Yes," he whimpered, "Let me go." Ciel chuckled as his hands caressed Sebastian's smooth bottom, "Such a cute hole for a slut," he commented. Sebastian was about to protest until he heard the sound of a plastic lid leaving a glass bottle. The air smelled of olives and it wasn't until then that Sebastian register what was going on. Francis never used lube, it was slick and stick, "What?" he stammered as he felt the slick substance roll down his skin. A low chuckle left the owner as his hands kneaded his flesh. His fingers spread the slick substance over his body and Sebastian moaned, it felt odd, and very bot. Ciel's hands were sliding across his skin as they applied the slick substance.
Sebastian looked up to see Ciel holding a bottle of olive oil in one hand, "Did you do this for the man too?" asked Ciel darkly as he tipped the bottle and coated his fingers, a thin ribbon of green fluid fell from the tip and hit his fingers. The excess dripped from them and landed on the small of Sebastian's back, he never thought anyone would use Olive oil that was meant for cooking on him. The powerful scent of olives assaulted his nose, he was about to protest until he felt one of Ciel's slicked fingers slip inside of him. His eyes widened and his lips parted, "Stop!" he cried in a panic. Ciel's free hand rested on Sebastian's hip as he began to move the single finger about, stirring the chef, making him feel lost in a haze. He hated Ciel's touch, he wanted to get away, yet his body was ignoring his demands. "S-Stop!" he protested again only for the young man to laugh, "I won't," Ciel stated as he slipped a second finger in. Sebastian arched his back and cried out when he felt those fingers sweep over a bundle of nerves. His head went numb and his body convulsed with pleasure.
He had never felt something like that, when Francis touched him, he only felt pain. Yet, with Ciel he felt both pleasure and pain, it was an intoxicating cocktail. Sebastian whimpered once again, the sound of his voice filled the room as well as the erotic sound of Ciel's fingers sliding in and out of his entrance. His heart was pounding wildly, "See, I told you it would get better," whispered Ciel into Sebastian's ear. His breath caressed the shell and sent another shiver through him as he felt the young man sink his teeth into it. Sebastian's hips swayed as Ciel scissored his fingers, he could feel them slowly stretching him, it hurt and yet his mind was going numb. "Pl-Please," Sebastian begged as Ciel licked the side of the Pậtissier's neck, the young man hummed against his skin. Sebastian could feel those demanding lips curve into a smile, "What?" asked Ciel teasingly. Sebastian's eyes were closed tightly and he was panting as he reamed under Ciel's touch. "Please," he begged, "stop."
At that second Ciel's fingers slipped out of him, leaving his hole empty and twitching, "You honestly," grumbled Ciel as Sebastian felt something hard prod at his entrance, "don't get it," he hissed. Sebastian's lips parted, he wanted to protest, yet his voice failed him. He felt as though he were gagged with that handkerchief and being raped by the man from his nightmares. With the snap of his hips Ciel was inside of him, pushing himself as far as possible into the Pậtissier. Sebastian's body went rigid as pain shot through him, Ciel was massive and he hadn't been stretched enough. He wanted to cry and yet he couldn't, "So fucking tight," moaned Ciel as he instinctively began to pound into the man.
One by one his senses left him and he felt his mind go numb, with little warning the Pậtissier's head met the unforgiving counter. He didn't want to lapse into the darkness, he wanted the light. To feel the warmth of the sun caress his skin and those powerful arms he had slept in once before to encircle him. He could never have those golden eyes gazing solely at him, they would be filled with disgust if they knew just what had happened to the Pậtissier. Faint calls of his name rang in his ears, perhaps it was for the best he hadn't slept and slipping into emptiness was better than the dreams which haunted him.
~~xXx~~
Claude sighed as he finally left the lift and opened the door of his apartment. Alois went home with his uncle, he was plastered after the party. He placed his keys on the small wooden table by the door and proceeded to slipping off his shoes. "Another cold apartment," he commented as he turned the lights on. The warm woods seemed lifeless somehow, he wasn't sure if it was from how alone he was or if he simply lost interest in the design. Unlike most flats, Claude searched specifically for one with a number of windows, warm woods and an open plan that made everything seem brighter.
His footsteps echoed through the lifeless home, at one time there had been someone waiting for him; sitting by the window on the soft brown sofa, with short white hair, violet eyes and alabaster skin. The Head Chef could remember when his apartment smelled of coco, honey, oranges and cinnamon; the sound of a knife not too far away, and an attempt at the weekly desert sitting under a crystal dome on the kitchen counter. Those were the days when life was good, and Ash still loved him, or at least pretended to. His fingers trailed over the back of one of the chairs in the living room, "To think, I actually wanted him to stay with me," he commented sadly.
Out of all the people Claude had allowed into his home, none of them managed to effect him as much as Sebastian, not even Ash. Sebastian was different, a talented and powerful chef that was gentle yet tough at the same time. His skill was far above that of Ash, and yet he didn't have an ego and a half. For the most part Sebastian was quiet, it wasn't until Claude had seen the lashings that Sebastian had on his chest that he felt differently. Sebastian needed to be protected, loved and cherished. Those burgundy eyes held an emotion that he had misunderstood to be pride. He wasn't like that; it was his armor, a way to keep people at arm's length; to prevent them from harming him.
Claude wasn't sure what hurt more, that Sebastian didn't trust him enough to stay the morning with him or the fact that the person he wanted wasn't available. He was with the owner, the one person it was impossible to take anything from. Ciel wasn't something to mess with, he had his own way of ensuring that things were taken care of, no the legality of his actions was always something Claude didn't want to question. The Phantomhive's were known for black market dealings, what was worse was that it was expected of them. His long fingers slowly rubbed his temples as he turned and walked toward a bookcase. He hummed as he looked at the books on it, Claude was an avid reader and would venture into just about any genre.
Among the volumes of Dickens, Doil and Shakespeare was a well worn cookbook. The spine was cracked and the pages threatened to fall out of it as soon as he picked it up. He sighed as he pulled it from the shelf; it wasn't the book that was important, his eyes glided over the title. It was the book used for introductory pastry classes; a smile curved his lips as he opened the cover.
Sprawled across the now yellowing inside cover of the ragged book was the name of it's true owner, "Sebastian Michaelis," he read with a small smile. He could remember the day he found it on a bench, the young chef had left it there by accident, since there wasn't contact information in the cover he couldn't return it. Rather than handing it to the lost and found, he kept it. Claude knew it wasn't right, but he couldn't leave it in a worthless box of junk. He slowly turned the page and flickered past the introduction, the book had been annotated in red, black and blue pen. Notes on preparations, modifications, and presentation had been made in the margins. Sebastian's hand writing was neat and easy to read. None of the other Pậtissiers had ever made notes like these in their books, only Sebastian.
Golden eyes closed as he recalled the first time he had seen the chef, he had just arrived and was taking a tour of the campus. His father was still irritated with him and Claude decided that it was the perfect time to flee to Paris. As the Dean lead him through the hallways he peaked in on a chef, he wasn't before a class, in fact there was no one else around. A single light was on at his station, and he was hunched over working in something. The side of his face was slightly swollen; it looked at though he had been in quite the brawl. Yet, that wasn't what attracted the young chef, it was those nimble fingers as they took simple red sugar and crafted it into a bright red budding rose. It was stunningly beautiful and seemed to be one of eight to go on a cake.
Those stunning red eyes were locked on his fingers as he worked with the hot soft sugar, sculpting it into the blossom. His attention to detail was phenomenal as Claude looked at the other seven the chef had made, each beautiful. The light reflected off the sugar giving them a soft glossy sheen, as though they had just been covered in dew. At his side was a rather large chocolate cake, it had been frosted and was ready for the flowers. It wasn't until Claude noticed the band around the man's arm that he realized the chef at work was actually a first year. There wasn't a single first year at the CIA who could produce such beautiful flowers. He had seen a number of third year chefs fail as well. Yet, here was a first year, with handsome features slowly molding every last flower.
At one point a chef had challenged him to craft one of the roses himself. Claude had attempted it several times only to learn how delicate sugar actually is when it's that hot. Every time he attempted to sculpt a petal, it would crumble in his fingers. The sugary base it's self had a habit of staining things, and if the ratio wasn't right, the color wouldn't be as vibrant. If the sugar cooled too rapidly it would shatter like glass. Claude couldn't peel his eyes off of the young Pậtissier. Each of the red tinted flowers looked as though they had been plucked off of a dew covered bush.
"Are all the First Year students able to make roses of that quality?" asked Claude, he watched as the chef lifted it to the light and watched it glisten, slowly turning it to check for cracks. His fingers gently caressing the base as he examined his craftsmanship. "Like that? No, never. That is Sebastian, he's the most promising of the students in the entire college," replied the Dean with an air of pride. Clearly, Sebastian was a gem. "Was it difficult to get him to study here?" asked Claude curiously as the Pậtissier placed the flower on the table gently. The Dean was silent, "We have an extensive number of talented individuals though, our staff is surely one of the greatest in French Cuisine," he bragged before walking down the hallway. Even then the sheer fact that Sebastian was used as a highlight but the rest of his life was forgotten annoyed him.
Claude's fingers stopped at the page with the directions to make the rose. Sebastian had drawn each step perfectly, he used origami symbols to show the folds. Several days after seeing Sebastian working alone he caught the talented Pậtissier lecturing on how to craft and Italian Ricotta Based Cheese Cake. The entire class had doubted him, yet Claude knew it was possible. He had seen them all the time in New York, but he had never had one as wonderful as Sebastian's, even if the amaretto was too much for him. The chef looked upset that day and left the room quickly, parties meant the world to the man and Claude could tell. He tried the cake and chased down several professors to convince them to at least trying it. Once he had managed to do so, he walked outside to find the thick textbook, used and worn. It became his treasure, proof that the talented Pậtissier existed.
Claude slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, he had treated Soma to dinner to get the number out of the Indian. It wasn't cheap but he had a feeling that it was worth it. He hit the side key and quickly tried calling the number, he didn't want to text him it would be a little too odd for him. After all he was first the Head Chef and then someone who loved Sebastian. Even if he didn't see that he had a right to, he still was concerned. After all Sebastian hadn't allowed him to get close to him again after that morning.
He pressed the green phone icon beside Sebastian's name and held it up to his ear; he looked at the clock and wondered if he would be able to catch the chef this late at night. After a moment he slowly took a seat in one of the bay windows and looked at the tank with his Gold Silk Spider in it. The line rang for a while, yet no one answered. He sighed as he listened to the greeting of the Pậtissier's voice mail. Claude drew a deep breath and began, "Michaelis, its Faustus. The doctor who treated you at the hospital called me; I had given her my info. She wants to do a follow up to make sure that your injuries are healing well," he said smoothly. It was part of the truth but should be more than enough to get the raven haired man to return his call. "Please call me as soon as you get this," he added before saying his number slowly to ensure that he got it right. Once he had finished doing so he hung up and looked at the book that was now resting on the floor.
Part of him wondered what it would be like to have Sebastian standing barefoot in his kitchen, in his black apron cooking just for him. To touch those beautiful fingers that caressed the glass like roses of his memory. To taste Sebastian's sweet tongue and enjoy his warmth. "Please, call me back," he whispered as he pocketed the phone. He was about to pick the book up when it rang. His heart fluttered, hoping that somehow Sebastian had just gotten the message and was returning his call, in seconds he answered, "Faustus," he said with a note of happiness.
"That is the happiest you have ever sounded to hear from me," replied a cool and familiar voice. Claude froze and looked out the window, "Lucian," he whispered, his voice gained the sharp cold steel edge it was known for when he spoke to the man. "That's the Claude I know, and would it kill you to call me," before Lucian could continue Claude interjected, "Why the hell would I honor you with that title?" he asked. There was a pause and he could tell the other party was attempting to find a reason, "Simple, no matter what you say it's my blood in your veins. I will always be your father, no matter how much you desire to change that Claude. People lie, DNA doesn't," he retorted. Claude hissed with irritation as he opened the Golden Silk Spider's tank and pulled the arachnid out. He allowed the beautiful gold spider to walk on his hand, "It's a good thing people can't test DNA by shaking hands, otherwise I would have a hard time hiding you," he stated as the beautiful creature climbed up his arm.
He could hear a deep chuckle from the other end, "I was wondering when you would stop screwing men and switch to women. I need an heir and one that can produce children, not screw horny prostitutes," he stated acidly. Claude's lips parted, he had enough of the way he was being treated, never once did he ask his father for anything. He made the money for his flat by investing in stocks, he paid for his college degree by working three jobs. "I have never asked for a single thing from you and you know screwing the closest female prostitute could potentially provide an heir," he stated with a grin. He knew plenty of places that would love to hear that Lucian Faustus, owner of Faust Acquisitions was actually looking for a piece of ass. "You can't run from this forever Claude, besides you are the only heir the board will recognize, after all I presented you to them from day one as the future CEO of Faust," he replied.
The golden spider leapt off his hand and back into the tank, "I never asked for that," he stated bluntly. He never wanted that, he wanted to craft his own life, he didn't want to live in his father's shadow. "No you didn't, however you will pick up my legacy. This isn't something you can walk away from!" roared Lucian, "It's bad enough you're gay, marry a woman have a child and continue to have a tart on the side for all I care." Claude grit his teeth, he wasn't about to do what Ciel was doing to Lizzy, "Screw you. I refuse," the Head Chef hissed before hanging up. He didn't want to deal with his father, the man who wanted to tell Claude how to live his life, to dictate his every move and force a company down his throat. He was a Chef, not a business man. "Why does he had to show up now?" he asked angrily as he tossed the phone to the sofa.
~~xXx~~
Resting on a dark wooden dining room table was a familiar box; it was midnight blue with the single word Ciel curling across the lid. Pale white fingers lifted the lid to reveal a slice of German Fudge cake. It was dark brown and had a beautiful crystal red rose sitting on top of it. There was silence as a fork was lifted from its place on the table; it winked in the light before the side sliced into the wedge. It glided through it like a warm knife in butter, causing a deep voice to hum with satisfaction. The rich scent of chocolate hung in the air as the fork aggressively stabbed the piece that the man had taken. Violet eyes locked on it as he examined its texture, it looked perfect in every way, he continued to guide the fork to his mouth and parted his lips hesitantly. The soft hum of the familiar chorus buzzed in the background as the cake hit his tongue. Melting in his mouth, the texture was spot on, heavy but not over weight. It was rich in flavor, yet not too strong, a balance that even this man had never had. His silver hair fell in his face as he hummed along to the other voices on the record, "A beautiful sound for a beautiful dessert," commented the man as he heard the humming cease, "The Humming Chorus from Madame Butterfly," he remarked with a wicked smile.
"So this is what Ciel has brought in to replace me," he commented as he looked up at the name painted in the shop window. Amour was written in large red letters with his name below in elegant gold script, Ash Landers. He picked up a folded napkin and slowly wiped the corners of his lips. He could remember the restaurant perfectly, even he didn't have this kind of skill, however if he was going to push Ciel out, he would have to defeat them somehow. He needed a weapon to give him the advantage, the question was, what he could use to do it.
Ash's eyes narrowed as he plucked the rose from the top of his cake. Angela had told him about Sebastian's debt, yet before he could make an offer, Ciel Phantomhive had managed to acquire the funds and purchased him. The rose was perfect, not a crack and, every petal had been added with care. It was far more beautiful than the ones he had ever produced. He hissed in irritation as he tossed it to the floor, watching it shatter with a hint of satisfaction. "I suppose I will have to keep an eye out for you," he whispered, "Sebastian Michaelis."