.
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"H-how was your first day? Good, yes?"
If by good, she meant that the muscles in her hands and feel were killing her, than yes, it went extremely good.
Staring at her hands, Mia's frown deepened. "I don't think I can feel my fingers anymore, Mey-Rin."
"What happened?"
Slumping against the table, her arms stretched out, before coming to rest beneath her forehead. "He made me make a dozen loafs of bread. A dozen. Apparently I kept getting the consistently of the dough wrong, and he would throw it out before it even finished baking. Hell, sometimes he tossed it out even before it got to that point! Annoying bastard thinks he's so high and mighty. I hope he scuffs his shoes and doesn't notice until the end of the day."
Damn butler was so perfect it would probably give him a heart-attack realize his attire had not been utterly impeccable every moment of the day.
I have failed the Young Master! My existence is a sham! Her mental-mocking was promptly interrupted by a sudden explosion from the kitchen, while startling, wasn't enough to make the young woman jump (though Mey-Rin looked alarmed enough).
"Oh, there is a God." Any time spent fixing someone else's fuck up, meant time that she didn't have to deal with him hovering, making comments that were insults wrapped in feigned compliments, or any of his holier-than-thou crap.
Mia was intent in blowing out of there, and was nearly out the backdoor when a stupidly familiar chest blocked her path.
"There you are. I'm glad I found you."
Spoke too fucking soon.
Though convinced this had to be breaking some kind of guest-labor laws (Sebastian helpfully informed her that it wasn't, nor was she technically a guest), she did her best to avoid slacking off. The sooner the kitchen was no longer covered in charcoal and burned meat, the sooner she could take a break.
Maybe even a nap.
Before she could even daydream about that prospect, someone came crashing through the kitchen, and consequently, her. Knocked onto her back by the blow, an unfamiliar weight settled on her, and a groan of pain was released.
I think I fell on a fork, goddamn.
"Oh! Sorry, I'm so sorry!"
The wonder of the voice quickly scrambled off of her, eyes wide and apologetic. By the description given from Mey-Rin about the other staff members, she categorized him as the gardener. What was his name again?
"Yeah, it's— fine."
Rubbing her back slightly as she stood, and used the counter to anchor herself as the blond had a mini-meltdown among the mess. "Are you sure? Oh, no, you're hurt, aren't you?! Sebastian will skin me!"
At that, Mia couldn't help but snicker faintly, and shook her head. "I'm sure he won't. It's probably against policy to do that."
Not looking very convinced, he opened his mouth to speak once more, only to shut it immediately, paralyzed in the spot. She didn't need to be a psychic to guess why that happened.
Black moved into the corner of her eye, much to her displeasure. "Finny, I believe I instructed you, very plainly, to tend to the garden."
"A-ah, yes, you did, but I saw a cat sneaking in, and you know that they aren't allowed to be inside, so—!"
Gloved fingers pressed against his temple, before the gardener was waved off. "I will take care of the cat. And this, as well. "
If the door came off it's hinges when Finny left, the butler made no move to fix it just yet. Instead, his attention turned to her. A swift assessment of her condition was made, before his head, ever so slightly, tilted to the side. "Please, follow me. You are bleeding, and I would rather not have the kitchen contaminated once more."
Feeling warm liquid begin to trickle down her back, she grimaced, before idly following the swishing tailcoat down the hall. Allowing her eyes to wander, it quickly became evident how very empty the mansion was. While it was filled with furniture, books, paintings, and other decorations, the halls were barren of people.
This was so very different from what she was used to. Growing up, her home always had people, it was always loud and filled with good food and laughter. Even her apartment wasn't nearly as silent as this place, explosions aside.
"…Where is everyone?"
"Working, naturally."
Rolling her eyes, she brushed passed him as the door to the washroom was opened. "That isn't what I meant." And you know it.
Hopping onto the counter (glare ignored), she did him the favor of pulling her shirt half-way off, letting it hang off her neck so as to be out of the way. If he was surprised by the lack of modesty, it went unnoticed. By now, she could practically feel some bruises forming on her back from how hard Finny knocked her into the tile, with the added bonus of falling onto silverware. "How bad is it?"
Though she could not see him, she could feel him behind her after a quick rummage through the cabinets. "Far from life-threatening. Thankfully, no stitches will be required; once the wound is disinfected, and wrapped, it should heal perfectly well on it's own merit."
Not desiring blood, or cleaning agents to stain his gloves (regardless of the fact that they could be cleaned, or replaced if necessary), the right one was removed for the time being. He surmised she would remain still, and even if not, his Faustian mark was on the other hand.
"Lean forward."
Dabbing hydrogen peroxide onto a folded piece of gauze, his gaze drifted to the scratches upon her back, as well as a sizable bruise that was blossoming on her upper shoulder. Such was the hazard of encountering their extremely strong, though friendly, gardener. Knowing it would sting, Sebastian took care in pressing the damp material along her skin.
To her credit, only a light hiss escaped in the beginning, before she had grown accustomed to the annoying sting. "You are lucky there were not more dangerous objects on the floor. Or, that Finny did not barge into the kitchen with more force than what was already being used."
Mia's fingers twisted with the end of her braid, humming in some acknowledgement to his words. "Yeah, well, it's fine, isn't it? Besides, you don't have to pretend that you even remotely care. I'm just a suspicious stranger, after all."
Discarding of the gauze, now spotted with red, a pleasant smile formed on his features. "Even so, for the time being you are staying here. It would hardly reflect well on the Young Lord to have any within his household to sustain terrible injuries. And, as far as the outside world is concerned, you are a guest. We have famous hospitality and service to uphold. Surely even you know the importance of one's image, when their social status is renowned?"
"Why does every other sentence you say sound like an insult? Believe it or not, social status isn't everything. It hardly makes someone a better person — maybe better off, but that's about it."
From behind her, the butler's brief chuckle reached her ears, only serving to add to her general disdain for him.
"Yes, perhaps that is true. But in this world, whether someone is good or not matters little to most. What does sway opinions is power. Wealth. Status. That is a truth to this world, regardless of whether you think it is fair or not."
Whatever, she bit back mentally. As easy as it would be to fall into an argument, this was obviously going to be an uphill battle. Of course he didn't understand; but that was his problem, not hers.
"Please raise your hands above your head, so that I may wrap these bandages securely. If needed, you may hand the cloth to me should you feel more comfortable with—"
"Oh, geez, just do it. It's not a big deal, and it'll go faster."
As expected, he worked swiftly, and with precision, not even sparing her chest a glance. Whether it was from a lack of an openly perverse nature, or simply a lack of desire to, she did not particularly care. Too bad her breasts felt squished now.
Bringing around the final few inches of the cloth, Sebastian reached for the adhesive, allowing his fingers to, but for a moment, touch the skin between her shoulders.
In that instant, he knew it to be a mistake.
Time slowed, and his power flared to the surface, pulsating through his veins, alive and wild. It then released, crackling against his skin, filling the space with a dark mist, and a brilliant amaranthine glow.
"…..Uh, Michaelis? What is that—"
His energy pooled in his hand, and seemed to still for a moment. The next instant it all rushed forward, spilling from his fingertips into her in a strong surge of power.
Sebastian broke from his rare, ill-timed stupor, and immediately ripped his hand away, ceasing the connection, and putting a cap upon his energy once more. It was now once more under tight lock and key, as it should have been, were it not for this unexpected affair.
Pain shot through her system in waves, causing her to fall forward onto the floor in a fit of movements. It felt like her skin was burning; like a fire was trying to eat it's way into the bone.
Clenching her fists against the tile, she fought for the right to breathe. Every inch of her body screamed for oxygen, and for relief from the foreign thing that was consuming every nerve, leaving nothing untouched from agony.
Her chest constricted even as the pain slowly began to ebb; but it was far from gone, like lingering acid within her cells. Panting, a light sheet of sweat formed on the surface of her skin, cooling the fire that had once been present; but it was not nearly enough. From the floor, pale blue eyes glared fiercely at him, from betwixt a mess of dark hair.
"Fuck, what did you do? It hurts, dammit!"
Red-orange eyes remained fixed on her. Though his expression was that of subdued surprise, inside, shock, horror, and disgust swirled into one, a dangerous mixture that tainted his very being.
"Oh my."
His lips formed a tight line, gaze flashing red faintly, before returning to their previous hue. His fingers curled beneath his jaw, still uncovered, with black nails on full display; brows drawn together in thought, the butler shook his head gently, utterly displeased. "This simply will not do."
Groaning, she reached up to grab the counter, and pulled herself to her feet, arms shaking as she popped herself up on his surface. Shirt still askew, it offered a view of her freshly bandaged back to the demon— and the faint, though visible brand of his mark.
xxx
Knocking at his door brought Ciel from his thoughts, eye lifting from the paper that held the quarterly marks of his company.
"Young Master, may I speak with you?"
It was too early for tea, or a pre-dinner snack. Though clearly rather important, the young boy could not help but be slightly irritated still; after all, he was rarely in short of work to be done, whether it was in regards to the Funtom Company, or the Queen's desires.
What the devil could Sebastian want?
"Enter."
His butler swept through the door swiftly, with his newly acquired 'guest' in tow, which was certainly a surprise. The door shut behind them, and the demon took a place closer to him, looking a bit unsettled.
"It seems as though an unforeseen circumstance has arisen. For, at least, a period of time, I must request that we keep Miss Gordon on the premises, regardless of the credibility to her— story."
Ciel's brow rose slightly as he sat back into his chair comfortably. "And why should I entertain this request, Sebastian?"
It did not escape his notice how uncomfortable the demon seemed to be, though very little was being let on. Another may not have picked up on it, but having spent so much time with him, it was glaringly obvious.
"The peanut gallery would also like an explanation for the fuck happened back there—"
Mia was practically seething, arms crossed over her chest as she waited expectantly for some kind of answer. One that the steward did not seem to keen on giving to alone, let alone admitting out loud.
What could possibly be so bad that he did not even want to say it?
Alas, there was no choice in the matter.
Clearing his throat, Sebastian shifted minutely on his feet, hands enclosed behind his back as he spoke with closed eyes, "In an unsavory turn of events, Miss Gordon has, much to my confusion, been claimed as my mate."
Something in the air definitely cracked at that.
"Excuse me? What the fuck!"
A/N: I don't know why, but it's pretty fun having Sebastian just pop up out of nowhere. Maybe it's because he's a demon, or maybe his ears burn if someone is talking about him? Who knows! Though I didn't plan to put this up today – because frankly, I didn't think I would have time to write it – I was pretty inspired during my lunch break and work, and wrote most of it! I'm also pleased at the new followers & favs that happened between my update last night and this morning—thank you! And, just to get this out of the way: this won't be one of those soulmate stories where Sebastian is a lovesick puppy because of it ( however adorable it is ). I want to toy with the idea of soulmates, but not liking who you're tied to, and frankly, being disappointed at who fate chose. It won't /stay/ like that, this is a romance after all, but the thought of that tension, and working through that really interests me. Can't wait to continue the ride with you guys in the next chapter!