.
.
.
.
Hair freshly washed, it fell into still-wet waves down to mid-back, as she gradually worked through the inevitable knots. He had offered to do it for her, likely to ensure that her hair was no longer a rat's nest, but a fake smile and door slamming was his answer. Like hell she wanted him to do her hair, like she couldn't even manage that much. Finishing off with one final pass, she was satisfied to find it went without a snag.
Now came the hard part.
Though she had braided her hair before, which was usually with the aid of another mirror, or another set of eyes. Doing it completely blind now was a bit of a challenge, and thus she kept a slow, patient pace, not wanting to make it crooked.
With a small, black hair tie it was fastened securely at the end. A little bit of hair spray or anti-frizz spritz would have been perfect, but there were no such luxuries here. And if there was some alternative, Mia really did not want to ask.
A short series of knocks drew her attention, and assuming it would be the butler, she let out a growl, "Fuck off, Michaelis."
"S-so sorry to disturb you, my lady, b-but I'm here with your clothes!"
Embarrassment rose to the surface, and she quickly invited the woman — who was, judging by her appearance — the maid. And she'd just made one shitty first impression on her, too. "Shit, sorry; I thought you were the devil in black. I'm Mia, by the way. What's your name?"
"Mey-rin, my lady! It was a bit short notice, but we managed to get some clothes for you to wear for now. More will be ordered tomorrow after your measurements have been taken."
Even though the pile of clothes looked ghastly, she couldn't help but smile, because the red-head was kind of adorable, and her grin was rather infectious, too.
"Alright, let's see what the damage is, shall we?"
Each dress was considerably worse than the last. Why in God's name did they have to be so frilly? Didn't they hear of the phrase, less is more? If they weren't so overblown with lace, it wouldn't be such a disaster. She would even consider wearing one, though she generally only wore dresses on really special occasions, or on the rare day that she actually wanted to.
Today was neither one of those days, and she didn't want to subjugate herself to drowning in fabric that was far too layered, heavy, and would require a corset. Seeing as more than a few people have broken ribs from heavy use of that particular garment, it was not going anywhere near her body.
With her eye twitching, she sat, rather dejectedly, on the edge of the bed, hoping the sheer force her disdain would will the horrible pieces of fabric next to her away.
"If I may ask, my lady," Mey-Rin began, twiddling her fingers and looking a bit nervous, even when motioned to continue, "….Do you not like Sebastian?"
Mia promptly snorted, arms crossing over her chest. "Not really. Was I suppose to be charmed and dazzled within five seconds of meeting him?"
Silence was a very telling answer— but she couldn't say she was surprised. From what she had gathered from skimming through a few pages of the Manga ( and general observations ), he was a very popular character among a few female characters, and even moreso among fans.
Then again, they never had to actually meet him!
"Granted, I don't really know him, but I'm not all that interested in doing that. All I want is to go back home, and get on with my life."
Mey-Rin nodded vigorously in understanding, and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "W-where is home? Far away, yes?"
"Very far from here, I'm guessing."
With one more pitiful glance at the small pile of dresses, she shot Mey-Rin a pleading look, fingers clasped together. "Look, I know you were suppose to help me into one of these, but honestly, it's not going to happen. Do you think you could find some nice pants and shirts? And…shoes that aren't heels, if you can. Boots would be preferable but anything flat with do. Please?"
The other woman quickly turned to the door, making sure no one else (most likely Sebastian) was within ear show. "Y-yes, I think I can!" It was a hushed promise, but one that was appreciated nonetheless.
Grinning, a quick hug was offered, much to the maid's surprise. "Thank you, you're a real live-saver. "
xxx
Reaching behind her head, the thick, long braid was pulled over her shoulder, a finishing touch to the attire Mey-Rin managed to get her hands on. More pieces would need to be ordered, but this would definitely do. Needless to say, though her current, somewhat loose shirt had an extra layer of thin fabric underneath, she was more than glad she hadn't taken off her bra for that nap. Otherwise, she would've had to suffer through a wrap.
Just thinking of a bind for her chest made the girls hurt.
Tucking in the remainder of the pants (which had a surprising resemblance to leggings, if only not quite as skin-tight, but close enough) into the boots, they were buckled up, secure along her calf.
Mey-Rin mentioned there were three other staff members, and that they were generally quite busy. Thus, she wouldn't be surprised if they weren't seen until much later, depending on what the devil meant by putting her to work.
"When you're done," The red-head explained earlier, "….go down to the dining room for lunch!"
She could hear voices speaking, but it was not until she descended the stairs, and stood outside the door to the dining room that they were clearly recognized as the Earl, and his ever-loyal manservant. Random tidbits about their most recent case drifted into the hall, none of which made too much of an impression.
Now I kind of wish I did read the damn story. Then, I'd know what the fuck is going on.
Pushing the door open, she made her way to the table, and took a seat, ignoring the slightly surprised looks. Surprise quickly bled into frustration for the butler, and confusion from the Earl.
"I heard lunch was ready, which is great, because I'm starving."
Ciel cleared his throat slightly, and nodded to Sebastian, who went to, presumably, retrieve a plate her for. Good riddance.
Tilting her head to the side, the faint pops were relished, some tension being expelled by the simple, effective gesture.
"Mia—what on Earth are you wearing?"
Without even missing a beat, she slyly responded, "Clothes, of course." The small twitch of the butler's brow when he returned and placed a plated sandwich before her nearly brought fourth a satisfied smirk.
"I believe what the Young Master means is, you were suppose to be appropriately attired—"
"This is appropriate,"
"—in a dress, as a lady."
"Funny, I didn't think not wearing an obnoxiously frilly dress suddenly negated my gender. Thank you for correcting me, Mr. Butler."
As if sensing the metaphorical (or literal) battlefield unfolding, the Earl promptly held up his hand, halting the response that had nearly tumbled from the steward's tongue, probably injected with venom disguised as sugar. "Regardless of how things are done where you are from, here, women are expected to dress, and frankly, act, a certain way. Going against that might invite— questions. Trouble, even."
Taking a bite out of the sandwich (this should not be so good, you fucking prick), she gave a slight shrug. Wiping some of the crumbs with a napkin, she rested her chin along her hands, contemplating.
"Are you telling me you can't handle a little trouble? You live in a ridiculously big house, and are obviously respected in society because of your lineage. If anyone says anything, just tell them to mind their own business. Honestly, it's not the end of the world. For the record, pants are a lot more comfortable. If you ever had to wear a dress, you would know that."
Something flickered across his expression, and the boy sat back in his chair, pressing a finger to his temple.
Gotcha.
"Sebastian." One could practically hear the butler straighten, and turn his gaze to the Earl, for goodness sake. "I have quite a bit of work to do; therefore, I don't expect to hear any disturbances, from anyone. Have I made myself clear?"
A gloved hand came to rest above his heart, before he bowed respectfully. "Yes, my Lord. "
xxx
It seemed as if all the stupid, sexist jokes of get back in the kitchen had come to fruition, because here she was, in the kitchen, with the man who clearly had some kind of stick up his ass, who was thoroughly criticizing her ability to knead bread.
She was pretty sure Gordon Ramsay was heaven compared to this guy, who was such a detailed-freak it was ridiculous.
"How is it that you do not know how to do something so simple?"
Pushing the heel of her palm into the dough, she flashed him the best, nauseating, sickly sweet smile she could manage, "—I'm sorry, I missed that class. Darn."
Her sass was no appreciated; it seemed, by the fact that a hand that suddenly smacked down on the table, making her jump faintly. "Then I suggest you make up for lost time and do it properly. The Young Master will not be pleased if anything in his house-hold is half baked."
Mia blinked in rapid succession, totally caught off guard by his words.
Did he just—
Obviously proud of himself for rendering her quiet, he returned to getting a head start on some of the dinner preparations with and all too smug air.
"….Was that a pun?"
No answer (or look, or acknowledgement) was given. In fact, she may as well have been invisible with how engrossed he became in finely chopping the ingredients.
She had to cover her mouth from snorting too loudly.
"That was just— awful."
A/N: Alright, updates from here on out might be a tad slow as I map out the story, and make the chapters longer now that I've got a nice foundation. I just cannot get Mia or Sebastian to not clash when they're in the same room; on the other hand, my love knows no bounds for Mey-Rin, and things are picking up! Also, I'm appreciative to everyone who's checked out the story so far, you're great! Perhaps, even, great enough to leave a little review? I've got cookies! uwu