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Chapter Text

Sometimes winter came early to London, driving the population away from the streets and turning the air gray. The rains swept away the autumn leaves, leaving the Victorian architecture even colder than usual. At night, the hiss of the afternoon water turned into a loud and aggressive attack of wind blowing that river that fell from the clouds. These violent storms frightened Ciel and turned him into just a scared and helpless little boy. The boy, of course, would never admit this to his butler, but he still ordered him to sit in an armchair near his large bed to keep him company. This order did not come with an explanation, it was already implicit in the fragility of Ciel's voice and his expressions as fearful as a kitten cornered by a huge dog.

That was exactly how Sebastian Michaelis saw his Young Master. A fragile abandoned cat that now explores his territory in search of food and shelter. And when unusual moments like this happened in the Phantomhive mansion (the little count never showed himself to be fragile outside of the house), Sebastian felt obliged to feel sympathy for his employer. Not a human sympathy like the one that hits you when you see an abused child, something deeper and more enormous. Michaelis didn't know how to describe it, but if he did, he would strangely compare it to a damp wall that is slowly taken over by moss and becomes greener and greener.

"Sebastian, stay here." The storm decimated the silence and muffled Ciel's cold, solid voice.

"Yes, my Lord." And then Sebastian sat in the large, velvety armchair in the left corner of the room.

The first time Phantomhive asked, Sebastian felt neither pity nor compassion. His suspicions were only confirmed that, sooner or later, that little, grumpy human would give in to fear. The butler thought that these displays of weakness would be frequent, but eventually discovered that he was wrong. Not long after, the two went out on a mission given by the queen. Ciel was in danger, he was even caught. Sebastian intervened and, upon seeing his Lord's terrified face, he imagined he would spend another night in the armchair, only to return to Ciel's chambers and receive a rude warning from the younger.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" Ciel questioned with his childish irritation.

A confused Sebastian – already settled on the velvet furniture – answered after 2 seconds of silence.

"The last time you felt afraid, My Lord, you ordered me to spend the night by your side." His indignant tone at having been mistaken was very well disguised.

"Did I tell you to stay here? Get out now! I'm not a child to feel afraid. Why afraid? Go." The boy seemed eager to prove himself fearless. His raised voice gave him away.

"Yes, My Lord." And he left with steps as silent as a cat's.

Now, with Ciel older and both familiar with each other, these mistakes were rare – if not non-existent. Michaelis even knew the exact temperature his Lord liked for tea. He also knew the water temperature for his morning and evening baths. He knew his favorite sweets and the foods he hated. He even knew his exact thoughts in the middle of a business meeting. Sebastian was inside Ciel. He consumed him before he could even take his soul. He made him more spoiled by fulfilling his every whim. He didn't make mistakes. Never. He couldn't. He was always one step ahead when it came to his Young Master's personal orders. The boy's feelings almost had a flavor to the butler. Nothing went unpunished. But not really?

Chapter Text

London, December 12, 1888.

 With his bath taken and his bed properly made, Ciel was guided by his butler to the mattress so he could be dressed.

 Sebastian gently ran the towel over Ciel's long leg once more before putting his pajamas on the boy. His skin was still damp from having preferred to get out of the bath and not take long to get under the thick covers. A habit constantly disapproved of by the butler.

 The nightwear was a simple, slightly blue, cold-weather set with a button-down shirt and drawstring pants. The fabric slid freely over Ciel's thin body, and against the light of a few candles, the boy's thin waist was visible as he stood up for a brief stretch. Sebastian took advantage of his height to give the little Lord an imperceptible smile. Sometimes, the demon liked to observe the details of Ciel's body. Just a consequence of boredom, the man thought. Those formal clothes the boy wore highlighted his social status, but Sebastian wasn't attracted to that like the others. He preferred moments of intimacy where he could enjoy the fragile, small figure of his young master. The man thought about how so much anger and demand came from those tiny, unstable bones. He could even admit that he liked to see the contrast of his hand against the boy's wrist when he had to rub his arms. Another moment when Sebastian hid a satisfied smile. He felt that he had finally made the right choice in a contract.

— What’s on my schedule for tomorrow? — Ciel asked as he stretched his arms and looked at the ground.

— In the morning you have your last piano lesson of the month. It will last a little longer for review. In the afternoon there are some papers to be read and documents signed. In the late afternoon you will have a meeting with the Queen's interests committee and in the evening I have prepared a dance lesson for your birthday. — Sebastian loved to see the count's expression of revolt when he found out about a busy day.

— Cancel the dance. I will be indisposed. — The certainty in Phantomhive's voice was comical.

— I'm afraid I can't, Young Master. — Even though he didn't have the option to deny orders and requests, the demon enjoyed defying them.

— Your party is in 2 days and you keep stepping on Lizzie's toes.Ciel glared at Sebastian.

— If necessary, I'll cancel the party with you. It's my birthday, not Lizzie's. I won't indulge her whims this time. Cancel the dance class.

Sebastian gave his usual smile and walked over to help the count lie down.

— As you wish, Bocchan. — He said, ending the conversation and walking to the bedroom door.Before he could close Phantomhive alone in the room so cold due to the early December winter, the butler was interrupted by a timid and low voice behind him.

— Sebastian. — Ciel called without moving, looking at the ceiling and fighting against the weight of his own eyelids.

— Yes, my lord? — The man held the door ajar.

— Stay. — Now, Ciel spoke louder and more firmly. That was an order, and a personal order. Something that Sebastian couldn't even retort. Maybe he didn't even want to.

The butler closed the door and turned to look at the boy. There was no rain and the candles were lit, why would Ciel want this? With a body movement that indicated distrust and confusion, Sebastian walked silently to the armchair and sat down. Then he heard his master exhale as if he had given up on speaking. It was quick and low. If Michaelis hadn't been a demon he wouldn't have heard it. He considered whether he should ask what was bothering his little master or just sit in silence like the other times. His reasoning was interrupted by a light snore coming from Ciel. It wasn't loud or even really noticeable. It sounded more like a deep sigh, a purr. The demon smiled as he heard it and delighted in the comparison he was making between his master and a defenseless cat.

London, December 13, 1888.

Ignoring this small abnormal occurrence, the night went on like any other. Phantomhive didn't move around much and didn't have any deep nightmares. His hair didn't get messed up as much and he didn't sweat as much since the night was cold. Sometimes Sebastian would go to the boy and place his bare hand on Ciel's lap to make sure he wasn't cold. Fortunately, he didn't need to add another blanket over his master's body. Everything went well.

At dawn, Michaelis calmly entered the room with breakfast and opened the curtains, allowing the white light of a cloudy sky to flood the entire interior of the room.

— Young master, time to wake up. — The butler called loudly.No movement from Ciel.

— Young master, your day will be full, with no room for delays. — Sebastian spoke from the window once again without success.

The man was not worried, he could hear the count's deep, healthy breathing.

Finally, he approached the bed, resting one knee on the mattress and leaning close to Ciel's body.— Young master. — He spoke loudly once more.

Just like a baby, Ciel struggled and put his arms over his head before opening his large, singular eyes, curious about the figure so close. When he came to, the boy got a little fright and threw himself to the opposite side of Sebastian.

— Sebastian! — He reprimanded in surprise.

— Pardon my manners, My Lord. You wouldn't wake up, so I had to come here. You can't be late today. — He explained calmly as he walked over to the food cart.— Do you want to know what's for breakfast today? — Sebastian was answered with a simple and cold "Tell me."

— We have Earl Grey tea with milk and toast with Gruyère cheese. Fried eggs with rye bread and, for dessert, pancakes with blackberries and honey. — Sebastian listed with pride in his voice. Everyone in the Phantomhive mansion knew that Michaelis cooked very well.

— Prepare me a bath. — Ciel ordered, as if ignoring his servant's words, but then he started breakfast.

—Of course, Bocchan. — Sebastian bowed.

The little Phantomhive could hear the sound of water running over the marble of his bathtub. His night had been peaceful and without disturbances, but on cold days, he liked to bathe frequently. It was easy to want to skip the bath when the temperature was so low.

With a curious look, he watched through the crack in the door as Sebastian poured the bath salts that dissipated amid the steam. The count liked hot baths in the winter; his body relaxed and he felt ready for a full day of work. And thinking deeply, the boy felt that perhaps a full day wasn't all bad... That was the eve of the date that marked 3 years since the fire. The last thing Phantomhive wanted was to leave his mind open for those thoughts to invade (even though they never went away). Just thinking about his birthday made his spine shiver and the sensation permeated his body. He definitely didn't want to see those flames again when he closed his eyes. He would have to do it when he went to sleep at night. Every time, for 3 birthdays, the dawn of the 14th had passed like this, turbulent with disturbing nightmares and screams that came from his mind going straight to his mouth. "Why me?" Ciel asked himself with shame. Had he really been such a bad child to deserve this? He was just a child, after all. Did his innocence deserve to have dissolved into ashes along with his parents and their happiness?

The little count suddenly realized that thin tears were running down his cheeks and falling onto his pants. "Damn you!" Ciel cursed whoever or whatever it was. He gave up on finishing his breakfast after those thoughts. That, to say the least, had violently torn away his hunger, leaving only a discomfort in his core. He put the dishes aside and threw away the duvet. His body was in a hurry so that he could start his duties and not think about fire anymore. Sebastian, who had certainly noticed the agitation, was now standing next to his count who was sitting with his legs over the side of the bed.

– Were you crying, My Lord? – the butler asked as he undressed Ciel.

– Those blackberries were too bitter! How could I not cry? Ask Finnian to pick better ones or do it yourself. – The boy continued with his irritated tone.

– I'll do it myself as soon as I'm done here. Finnian certainly doesn't know how to pick blackberries, does he? – Sebastian knew those were the sweetest. He could tell just by the smell.

– Yeah. – Ciel shouted as he stood up, already wrapped in the towel.

The two walked in silence to the bathroom and the demon held his Lord's hand so he could enter the bathtub.

As soon as he sat down, Phantomhive felt his muscles relax and his body warm up. The perfect temperature.

– Do you want me to scrub your hair? Since we washed it last night, I don’t think it would be healthy to do it again so soon. – Michaelis explained.

– Okay. Just comb it after I get dressed. – Ciel ended the conversation, beginning a comfortable silence.

Sebastian soon began to wash his master's tired body. First he ran his hands over his arms and then over his chest, following his abdomen and moving to his back. The butler appreciated every bit of that small creature he could in front of him. He felt the softness in his fingers and wished to have that skin resting on his body. He noticed his breathing always deep and imagined it against his neck. And Ciel's scent... If Sebastian were human, he would certainly be intoxicated by the sweet aroma that Ciel - and only Ciel - had. The boy was such easy prey... And yet Michaelis resisted the temptation to devour that soul. The contract prevented it. So, for now, he would remain admiring and imagining his young master and every detail of him. It was definitely not a bad wait.

He rubbed that tiny, bony back that arched when Sebastian "accidentally" traced it with his fingertips. Well, the boy didn't complain, so the butler kept making mistakes. First he ran his index finger down his young master's spine and then surreptitiously caressed the back of his neck. He rested both hands on hisCiel's shoulders and, as if without thinking, began a subtle massage. Maybe, but just maybe, that smell really intoxicated him.

— What- — Ciel quickly turned around. — What are you doing? — His voice, although irritated, sounded drunk.

It took Sebastian a few seconds to come to his senses and explain himself.

– Your shoulders looked tense and I thought a massage would help.

– Just finish my bath. – Phantomhive ordered. – And don't think I didn't feel your dirty hands on my body.

The demon smiled as he resumed washing.

– Forgive me. – That was not a serious request, and they both knew it. Especially because Ciel had enjoyed those caresses. And they both knew it.

Michaelis wrapped the boy in a towel after finishing rinsing him. Ciel's body left trails of water on the crimson carpet of the room. It didn't take long for Phantomhive to feel the low temperature assaulting his hot skin again. His slightly shrugged shoulders and chattering teeth made Sebastian speed up what he was doing. Using his inhuman speed, he grabbed the hanger with Ciel's clothes and quickly returned to the boy, kneeling down and removing the towel around the Young Master to dry his body.

The Butler's still bare hands worked quickly to dress the boy sitting on the bed. That thin body felt colder than usual and his immunity was no help when it came to fighting off flu. Sebastian wanted to enjoy Ciel and his high temperature, but he didn't want to risk making his master sick.

— Sebastian, your hands are peeling my skin. Calm down! — Ciel said. A tiny hint of irritation seeped into his voice.

— My apologies, Bocchan. — The demon said and slowed down, consequently taking advantage of the softness of that small body in front of him.

In response to the calm touches, a shiver ran through Ciel at that moment. Suddenly, the older man was overcome by a strange sensation coming from the bond of contract. Wait, it wasn't completely strange... It was satisfaction. Something sweet like shyness being induced to transform into... pleasure?

Sebastian looked up at Ciel. His long fingers rested on the younger's thin thigh.

—Is everything alright, my Lord? — Michaelis asked with a blatant malice taking over his voice. The mischievous smile, of course, present the entire time.

Phantomhive hesitated and was about to say something. Maybe retract? But he was interrupted by a loud noise of something heavy hitting the floor and breaking. Under any other circumstances neither of them would have any doubt that it was the work of the other three servants, but honestly, in the last few minutes bordering on erotic, they felt like the only ones in the whole world. Alone in a silence so loud that they could even hear each other's thoughts.

— What was that noise? Go see now Sebastian! — Ciel ordered. Shame spreading through his body.

— Stay here. — Sebastian said as he walked out of the room.

As he walked down the hallway, nothing seemed out of order. No paintings were out of place, and no strangers were running around. Sebastian checked the entire floor and nothing seemed amiss. When he went downstairs, he came face to face with Mey-Rin and Finnian kneeling on the floor amidst broken glass. Beside them, Elizabeth and her housekeeper Paula were embarrassed and apologetic. One of the beautiful flower vases that decorated the mansion's front door had been broken. And judging by the scene, Elizabeth had done it. The butler, knowing how clumsy Mey-Rin and Finnian could be, stopped cleaning and took care of the mess.

— Oh, Sebastian... Forgive me... I was so anxious to see Ciel that I didn't even notice Mey-Rin coming with the vase. — The girl with blonde hair and neat curls approached the redheaded maid. — Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? — Lizzie looked at the redhead's arms and stroked her dress to remove the shards of fabric.

Kind and annoying as always, Sebastian thought. Elizabeth (or Lizzie, as the girl preferred) always surprised everyone with her unexpected visits. Every now and then she caused a little chaos in the mansion. Ciel's fiancée was always lively and lively. She liked to make everyone happy. Therefore, this confusion was to be expected, but it didn't change the fact that the commotion hadn't come at the right time. The mansion's employees might even think that a feminine happiness like Lizzie's would help Count Phantomhive cheer up and forget the tragedy for a while, but Sebastian - who knew Ciel very well - knew the unnecessary stress that the blonde's notable presence would cause. On an eve as unhappy as that was for the boy, all he wanted was to isolate himself in the office, work all day and retire as soon as the sun went down. No idle chatter or loud laughter. Why didn't Lizzie respect that? Well, it was a question for the count, but Sebastian knew that passion was like that. Lizzie, being completely in love with Ciel, just wanted to see him well. He would insist until the end and he would win. And suddenly an air of superiority came over the butler when he remembered that he didn't need to insist to make his young master feel good. He knew exactly how to do it and he never failed.

— Don't worry, Lizzie. Just get out of here so you don't get hurt if a shard gets lost — Sebastian guided everyone as he held the shovel with the glass remains.

— I can buy another one for Ciel, no problem. He won't be upset, will he? Ah... I must have ruined Ciel's eve... — Lizzie grumbled.

— The Young Master won’t mind as long as the day goes smoothly. — The butler replied.

Mey-Rin and Finnian were thanking Michaelis profusely while Elizabeth spoke loudly and made her voice even higher in pitch. Could demons have headaches? They would if everyone didn't keep quiet. This was exactly the situation Sebastian wanted to avoid on the 13th because he knew Ciel would get exalted and...

—WHAT'S ALL THAT NOISE?— Ciel bellowed loudly at the top of the main staircase.

— Oh, Ciel! Finally! I'm sorry, I broke a vase, but it's all right now. — Lizzie said as she went up to find Ciel.

The girl grabbed the earl's neck and hugged him with all her strength. She jumped up and down excitedly and kissed his cheek happily. She was genuinely happy to see Ciel that morning. The agreement was that they would meet the following afternoon, just before the birthday party. Her being there a day early and so early, making Ciel late, really made him angry.

Elizabeth Midford and Ciel Phantomhive were engaged before they were even born. Tradition dictated that first cousins marry to keep their inheritance and titles within the family, without outside hands. It might not be a romantic feat, but it worked for all nobles. So it would be no different for the Phantomhives and Midfords.

As Ciel's cousin on his father's side, Lizzie had always adored the boy. Before the fire left the young earl's life in ashes, they were close and would constantly play happily in the garden with their mothers. They would chase each other and then share their favorite juices while eating chicken sandwiches. The rainy days did not stop the little couple from being happy. They would play chess in the living room or share a book from the library. From the outside, this would be an excellent union for the family. And from the inside, the Phantomhives could not have made a better decision. Everyone saw them as a loving and loyal couple who would carry on the family name and produce equally capable heirs. Sadly, all this happiness ended early.

The criminal flames that killed Vincent and Rachael also burned Ciel and Lizzie's relationship. When they saw each other again, after 1 month, Ciel was no longer the 9-year-old boy, the innocent and naive future heir who ran around the house playing with Elizabeth. Now he was Count Phantomhive who would take care of the mansion and serve everyone and everything.any order from Queen Victoria. 'What a curse hanging over such a blessed boy...' Ciel's uncles, Francis and Alexis, thought upon receiving the news.

Little by little, Ciel was taken over by the darkness that his father had fought so hard to keep away from the one he loved so much. The boy now had no time to play in the garden or play chess on rainy days. He had to take care of his Funtom company and attend administrative meetings with old men who smelled of cigars. He spent weeks planning how he would infiltrate London for investigations assigned to him directly by Her Majesty. When he was not behind his huge desk hidden by a high wall of papers, he was being the Queen's faithful and mysterious guard dog. Lizzie was his priority only as a fiancée. Meetings with the beautiful blonde girl were rarely scheduled in the agenda. And when they were, Sebastian was almost always informed about last-minute meetings requiring Ciel or urgent problems at Funtom that needed to be resolved personally. As a servant so loyal to his master, the butler did not allow Ciel to miss these extreme commitments. Of course, Sebastian was duly rewarded when the excuses worked so well (they never failed). Ciel made a point of praising his butler, boosting his ego on these occasions, knowing how strong the demon's narcissistic nature was.

The young earl sighed loudly before giving her a short hello and pushing her away before heading downstairs towards the servants. He was trying his best to keep himself from bursting out of stress at Elizabeth. "She wasn't to blame for anything," he repeated to himself.

— Make sure to cover the empty space where the vase used to be. — Then he turned to his butler. — Sebastian, remember to put the vase back in its place later. That's an order. — Ciel felt his eye marked as he spoke the last words and Michaelis didn't need any further explanation to know that he was ordered to perfectly rebuild the broken decoration with his magic.

— Yes, my lord. — The man bowed and let his hair fall down to hide a small smile. He liked it when his master communicated in codes that only the two of them would understand. It made him feel special in a way. Ciel’s tea would definitely have extra honey in it that afternoon.

— Elizabeth, come. — Phantomhive said rudely without even looking at his fiancée as he walked up the stairs, being answered with a cheerful, thin laugh.

The couple walked through the cold corridors of the mansion and passed countless doors until they reached Ciel's office. The boy held the door for the blonde and then entered, closing them inside. He walked with long strides to his chair and sat down, taking a deep sigh as he finished planning his words.

— Do you see this, Elizabeth? — he asked, glancing at the pile of papers on the table.

— I am! There are so many... Do you need help? — The girl's enthusiasm left Ciel almost speechless.

— I do. And do you know how you can help? — Ciel paused briefly, turning his question into rhetoric. — By meeting our agreed schedules.

Lizzie's gaze calmed and took on a sad look.

— But... — She didn't have an answer because she knew she was wrong. Their date was the next day in the late afternoon, but she remembered how terrible her fiancé felt when he had his birthday. She just wanted to cheer him up. Was it really that bad? Was she really that bad of a bride?

— Leaving you alone, Lizzie, when you come to visit me, is not the right conduct for a Phantomhive towards his bride. — The emphasis on the nickname would lift the blonde's mood. — Therefore, to avoid me being a bad groom, please let me know before traveling to the mansion.— His disdainful tone was masked with affectionate condescension.

— You’re not a bad fiancé, Ciel!— She replied promptly with a beautiful smile on her pink lips.

— That way I can rearrange my day so that your visit fits in and we can keep each other company. — That was certainly an empty promise. Ciel made a lot of them. Lately, he wondered how long he would have to keep them to his family? He was getting tired of all this theatrics.

The truth was that the boy would say anything to calm down a situation like this, but he felt undeniably full of the fact that he couldn't just dismiss what was in his way. Elizabeth, even though she was his fiancée and he still felt a small affection for her, was a thorn in his side. She definitely didn't stop him from walking, but she caused a little discomfort when he stepped.

— Oh, Ciel, you're so sweet and thoughtful... I have the best fiancé in the world! — The blonde placed her intertwined hands on his cheek as she looked at Ciel, completely excited again.

The boy stood up and walked over to the girl, gently taking her fingers and placing a small kiss on the pale back of Lizzie's hand.

— Thank you, Lizzie. You're very sweet too. — He said calmly. — Now, I'm late for my piano lesson. — Another lame excuse. — Feel free to stay at the mansion as long as you want. We'll see you later if I'm free. — Ciel said knowing that Sebastian would come up with some excuses to give Elizabeth today.

— I'll definitely be waiting! — Lizzie folded her hands and smiled at her fiancé — I admire your willingness to study! I hope your class is wonderful.

In response, Phantomhive nodded and forced a friendly smile. He accompanied the girl to the door and, when her back was turned and properly away from the door, he closed himself in the office alone with his thoughts, walking to the desk. For a few moments, he felt sorry for Elizabeth and disgusted for himself. He may have been through what he had been through, but she was still intact and loved Ciel the same way as before. Nothing had happened to her. Nothing to deserve being treated so coldly by her own fiancé. The count had lost his family in a fire, had been kidnapped and abused by a cult, used as a sacrifice, and finally made a contract with a demon. He had enough reasons to become the overflowing well of bitterness and rudeness. That sweet and fragile blonde had no reason to be treated so badly, however. Was Ciel just taking out his frustrations on her? On the pure and immaculate being that his soul was? Well, that was not like Count Phantomhive. Look at everything he had been through, his reasons most certainly had the right to surpass morality. He had suffered and now he wanted revenge, that was all that mattered. Nothing else. Love and affection? Maybe he would never feel that again. His affection and attention were completely focused on his own purposes these days. Only his revenge and his demon. Or rather, his contract with the demon. Ciel corrected himself, perhaps indirectly reprimanding himself.

That little slip-up — thinking of Sebastian as his — made Ciel snap out of his deep thoughts. I mean, it wasn't just a possessive thought, it was as if the butler was worth it. The boy lived for revenge, right? Nothing more. Having his demonic butler around almost 24/7 was just part of the process and nothing more... right? Obviously it was. And there was no room for thoughts like that again. The young man jumped out of his chair and crossed the room, leaving the office and heading for the library. On the way, he hoped (strangely with pride) that he wouldn't run into Elizabeth on the way. And he wasn't happy when he heard her muffled voice coming from some room on the first floor. He wanted her away. He wouldn't get married anyway. His soul would be taken by his demon long before then.

When he reached the book-filled room, he relaxed and sat in the comfortable armchair near the shelf on the right side of the room. He picked up a detective novel (he had been enjoying Sherlock Holmes lately) and reveled in the mystery for several minutes before being invited to start the piano lesson by his butler." How inconvenient..." thought Ciel as he sent Sebastian in after hearing the call from outside the library.

— I was reading. — Phantomhive commented without rushing to look at the servant. — The piano can wait. — The boy just teased, knowing that skipping class would not happen. Annoying Sebastian, however, would make everything more fun.

— Your morning reading can wait. — Michaelis said firmly, now standing in front of Ciel and stretching his gloved hand toward the book held by his young master.

Chapter Text

Thirteen-year-old English noble boys always had their days filled with various activities. They practiced fencing, had Latin or French lessons, played chess, and went out with their father to participate in some masculine entertainment and so on. Even though they were already considered men in a certain way, their responsibilities were to strive to be well-regarded gentlemen. At most, they knew how tiring their parents' work was. Three years ago, little Ciel looked at these boys and wished he were them. To be busy with things that, in his childish view, were nice things for grown-up boys. He wished he had grown up. To have presence when leaving the house and be recognized as a Phantomhive. Oh, only God knows how Ciel regrets having thought this way one day.

Now, playing the piano with a demon tutor and planning what he would say at the meeting with the queen's committee, the young Earl replaced the melody in the air with bitterness and let himself be carried away by it. No, not even God knew how much he regretted it. If he really knew, this wouldn't be happening. His thoughts wandered between guilt and anger. Summarizing his soul in every day since that fire. He didn't want to be 13 anymore. He didn't want to be the mature boy he once admired so much. He just wanted to be a child, to be 9 years old again and run around freely without worrying about the future of his family. With the future of his soul.

And then, he became so immersed in his thoughts that he missed the note he was playing on the piano. The song in question was Prelude Op. 28, No. 4 by Frédéric Chopin, a melancholic melody composed in 1839.

Usually, it was Sebastian who chose the songs that his master would play and practice. Because he understood better, he knew which would be most beneficial for the count's learning. However, there was a song that Ciel had asked to learn exactly 1 year ago. And, since then, the boy played that song whenever he could in piano lessons. The song was associated with death and its own composer requested the song at his funeral. It was strangely convenient for Ciel.

At the end of all the lessons, the butler would stand silently next to Phantomhive, watching his small hands play Chopin. A melody that was initially calm and eventually suffocating.

Ciel now knew that song by heart. He knew every note and knew how to play like a professional, so Sebastian was so bothered when he heard Ciel grotesquely miss a note for the first time in months.

— Young master? — Sebastian called, bothered by that note that was completely out of tune.

— I... My hand slipped. Let's go back from here. — And Ciel went back to playing gracefully with his eyes focused on the piano.

Indeed, the butler noticed that Ciel's beautiful blue gaze was far away from the piano, even though he remained static on the instrument. Sebastian felt a thin, gray, transparent mist slowly take over the younger man. His expression became more and more neutral. His fingers pressed the keys more and more firmly. He didn't need any contract connection to know that the little count was having bad thoughts. These thoughts made his soul more and more delicious. But then, what was the use of a sweet soul if its host suffered so much? And what kind of thoughts were these? Sebastian should care little about what Ciel feels or doesn't feel. The thing is, with each passing day it became harder not to care. That boy, that soul — the soul that belonged to Sebastian — suffering and being oppressed by imminent despair. The demon shouldn't care, but he did. Whatever the reason, he cared and suffered along with it. Well, demons are by nature creatures that put themselves above everything else. So, it was okay for him to care since it also affected him, right?

At the end of the song (which this time was finished without any mistakes) Ciel slowly placed his hands on his lap and stared at the piano, enjoying the sudden silence.

Sebastian, in turn, wondered what the little boy's thoughts were at this moment. Work? Hunger? Tragedies? Or just... piano?

— You were exceptional in today's class. And fast. What do you want to do in this free time before lunch, Young Master? — The older man asked as he put away some sheet music and closed the piano.

— I feel slightly unwell, I'm going to my room. Make some Ceylon tea and bring my book with me. — Ciel ordered as he stood up.

They both left the music room and walked together until Sebastian went down the stairs and Ciel continued on his way to his room. He took off his shoes and settled into bed, under 2 thick, stunningly clean duvets. Ciel's blue hair spread out on the pillowcase and contrasted with the dominant white color of his bedding. Phantomhive felt himself sinking into the mattress with every sigh he let out. Once again he would be alone in that room. Thinking about everything. He didn't want to, but how could he avoid it? He knew he could control everything around him, but how could he do that with himself? How could he control himself? Fortunately, this time the darkness was prevented from taking over Ciel by (ironically) his demon knocking on the door. The earl let him in and saw the tall figure dressed completely in black enter pushing a cart with a fragrant tea and his current reading.

Ciel muttered absently as he picked up the tea and brought it to his lips, slightly chapped from the cold.

— Is there honey? — He suddenly stopped drinking and looked at the butler with a hopeful, childlike look.

It was so graceful and genuine that Sebastian couldn't help but smile. His completely straight posture and hands behind his back in professional body language were ruined by a smirk accompanied by a tiny affectionate laugh. In Michaelis's sinful eyes, Ciel was the cutest thing the demon had ever seen in his long life.

— Of course, Young Master. — The butler approached to pour a generous amount of honey into the cup and then return it to Ciel. His tender smile never wavered.

The boy accepted and drank willingly.

The tea went down his throat, warming his body and making the small human relax. The honey added a sweet touch to the feeling of relief and Ciel felt his eyelids grow heavy. At that moment, he forced himself to keep his mind awake. He asked Sebastian for the book and noticed a different expression on the butler's face. For the first time, the older man seemed to be happy. Not in a fake or convenient way, Ciel just knew it was a genuine expression. He could feel it almost in his core. “He must be feeling my suffering and taking advantage of it, that's all” Phantomhive thought. He could be pessimistic when he wanted to...

— Everything is fine here, you can go. Call me when lunch is ready. — The count directed Sebastian and then looked at the book in his hands. His cup, already empty, was back on the cart.

— Of course, my lord. — And so the butler left, calm and serene.

The man walked to the kitchen and found Baldroy desperately trying to fan the burnt smell of an apple pie. What was all that about? Sebastian had only asked the “cook” to take the pie out of the oven and now it was completely ruined on the outside. The burnt smell indicated that the inside was no different.

— I just gave you a simple task... How did this happen? — Michaelis asked in disbelief at the scene. But before Bald could answer, the butler spoke again. — Don't tell me. I don't want to know! — Go and get out of the kitchen before it's our turn to burn on the wood.

— Sorry, Mr. Sebastian! I don't know how this pie got like this. I swear I was taking care of it the whole time. When I had to leave, I left Finnian here. This pie wasn't left unattended. — Baldroy said as if it were a great enigma.

In order not to lose his patience, Sebastian just agreed and expelled the cook from the room. He would have to remake the pie... He was very lucky to have supernatural powers and Tanaka there, otherwise those other 3 would bring the mansion to the ground.

Now, with the silence a little louder and amid the high temperature of the kitchen, Michaelis finally had time to organize his thoughts. Not that he didn't already know what he was going to admit to himself, but it was right to do it calmly.

Well, he met Ciel that morning and made a contract. His hunger would be satisfied and he would have some fun having such a young master to irritate and annoy. The formula seemed simple and the results seemed more than clear. And then he had never been so wrong. Could demons have feelings? The answer was no, obviously. But then why did Sebastian have to expel affectionate thoughts about Ciel from his mind? Why was the attraction he felt for that body not just carnal like with other masters? It was something unknown. The little one did something to Sebastian's mind that was not natural. The worst of all was that Michaelis did not repudiate it. That affection for his young master, the fixation on his body, the fear of hurting him in any way, that possessiveness so... loving...? Was that what the demon felt? Love? How was that even possible? It was something selfish and jealous, totally obsessive. But, in the end, isn't that what love is all about? Sebastian forced himself to stop what he was doing and think more deeply. Maybe hunger was driving him mad? He definitely wasn't strong enough for that. A demonic mental disorder? He had heard of some of his kind who succumbed to insanity, but he wasn't insane. So was he truly in love? That might have something to do with the way he did his job. If he cared so much about Ciel, it might conflict with the boy's goals. Sebastian would eventually have to choose what was most important to him. If the man chose to love in his own way, he would deal with Phantomhive's mindset about his purposes later. Now, if he chose to continue as he was, he would eventually have to deal with his master's death. Was that something significant in the long run? Michaelis couldn't answer that question. He didn't even know what Phantomhive's feelings were... Did the boy...? Right, the butler couldn't help but smile. Not because he was so weak in demon parameters, but because he thought Ciel might feel the same way. Sebastian went back a little in his memories. He remembered the blushes that Ciel had every time Michaelis was so close. He remembered the times that the young master's heart accelerated at the demon's whispers. Also every time the little count's body leaned closer, asking for more of Sebastian's touch. Maybe all of this was unconscious, but it was there. The man had a place to start. Everything was always in front of him from the beginning. He remembered the times that in the middle of the night or on some boring afternoon the master felt something so strong and then called his butler. Whether asking for a warm milk with honey or a walk in the garden, Ciel always turned to Sebastian after feeling whatever it was intensely (they weren't negative feelings, the demon could feel them through the contract. They were different, but they were definitely not bad).

If Phantomhive were to reciprocate, things would change drastically for the butler. Well, above all, he was an evil being who would have whatever he wanted. If he wants Ciel, he will have him. And he will have the sweet soul at the end of the contract too.

That was it, that was Sebastian's goal now. He would discover his master's feelings in depth and if necessary, he would mold him until he was able to reciprocate those feelings. Sebastian Michaelis would become the only one in the boy's life. The only friend, the only servant, the only need and the only love.

His demon eyes shone and a satisfied smile appeared on his lips.

☆

For Ciel, the rest of the day went smoothly.

After lunch, he worked a few hours in his office and at 4:00 PM he attended the meeting scheduled with the Queen's committee. The appointment lasted less than expected because it was just a general report on the annual performance and what everyone thought should be improved. When he returned home at 5:30 PM, Phantomhive made excuses for not being with Elizabeth and ran to the library. She accepted everything easily, which was unusual, but at the moment she was laughing and chatting animatedly with Mey-Rin and Baldroy, so Ciel concluded that she had been reviewing and planning the party the next day all day.

The count sat down in the soft armchair in the book room and took a deep breath. He rescued his current reading from the shelf and left it on his lap to have an excuse to be there. He just wanted some silence and maybe he would continue reading the detective novel. His mind began to wander about his day and his tasks. He remembered the dance class he had canceled and how good it was to know that his day wouldn't end with Sebastian yelling at him for “stepping on ladies' feet even though he was old enough to know how to lead a dance.”. It might be true that the count didn't have much of a sense of direction, but it had nothing to do with his age. That demon was very nosy. There were even times when the class was theoretical and at the end the man would pull Ciel to dance, claiming it was some kind of surprise test. It bordered on unprofessionalism, didn't it? They danced to the sound of several songs in these classes. Phantomhive's favorites were the calmer ones. He found it easier to guide his feet and less tiring because he was leaning on his butler. Sometimes it was even comforting depending on the day.

One time Michaelis put on the Swan Lake theme and made Ciel improvise a dance on the spot. The boy wasn't that clumsy, so it was fun. The strange thing was at the end when the youngest was held down in the butler's arms and his eyepatch slipped, exposing his scarred eye and causing Sebastian to hold Ciel's waist tightly as he seemed to hold back some impulse. The earl always wondered what that reaction was. He also saw from Sebastian's half-open smile that his fangs were getting sharp. They would have stayed in that position for longer if Ciel hadn't been finding it strange to be so close to his butler's face. They separated and Phantomhive felt his face flush. “How pathetic.” the earl thought to himself.

When he came back to the present, Ciel only realized he was smiling when he let his head relax against the seat of the chair. Why that smile? It was a memory in which he was in danger and Sebastian would probably have devoured him. But what if the butler had done something else? A kiss, maybe... No. No more thoughts like that. Phantomhive opened his book and forced himself to immerse himself in the story. Sebastian interrupted his master's reading 20 minutes later, calling him to dinner. The boy felt his cheeks heating up as he looked at the tall figure, but he acted normally.

At the dinner table, Sebastian presented the dishes to Ciel.

— For your dinner, I prepared roast lamb accompanied by roasted potatoes and vegetables from the mansion's garden. For today, it's broccoli and carrots. As an extra option, there's pumpkin puree. — The butler took a glass and filled it with juice. — The drink is 100% natural raspberry juice.

Phantomhive didn't hesitate to start his meal. He ate calmly, absorbed in his thoughts. The sad look didn't escape Michaelis' eyes, who felt helpless in the face of that sadness. His desire at that moment was to take his master's face in his hands and tell him that he was safe with the butler. Then he would kiss his Ciel and smile at him. A smile full of tenderness that would turn into lust not long after.

Well, it wouldn't hurt to get Phantomhive out of those negative thoughts, after all. The man approached the younger man and stopped 1 step away from him. He leaned in to be slightly on par with Ciel and spoke his words without hesitation.

— How's the food, Bocchan?

The count followed the demon's steps with his eyes and answered bluntly as well.

— Great. It'll do the trick. — He said seriously and neutrally.

— Will it do? Then I guess I should discard the Belgian chocolate cake with dark chocolate frosting, right? — The butler asked as if it were nothing. His typical provocation that sometimes drew an ironic smile from Ciel.

Ciel turned to the man beside him, looked him up and down, stopped looking at Michaelis' eyes and remained silent. His only free eye opened in an indecipherable blue that took over Sebastian. The count's head had been racing all day. Memories and feelings mixed like a hellish buzzing in his mind. No one could fight the inevitable for Ciel other than himself. But what about at this moment? When Sebastian strangely seemed to care about the Phantomhive? I mean, the young master was no idiot, he saw the way Sebastian looked at him on such sad occasions. Why? Ciel wondered as he looked at the butler leaning beside him with a now frighteningly peaceful smile. What was he trying to please Ciel so much lately? Was it some demonic prank? Did the demon really care about the earl? Ah, the boy was tired of questions that day, he needed answers and would chase them to hell if necessary.

— Can I have as many slices as I want? — The earl's tone was meek and emotional. He didn't feel much different from that.

— Oh, Bocchan, of course you can. — The butler agreed in a loving voice and stood up. — But finish your dinner first. — He finished with a small, calm smile and gently placed his hand on Ciel's shoulder before returning to his usual position: facing Ciel across the table.

After finishing dinner, the count ate two slices of cake for dessert. He felt the effect of the sugar uselessly fighting the melancholy that grew as it got closer and closer to midnight. All he could focus on at that moment was the delicious cake made by his butler's hands. And what hands! He never made mistakes when he used them and was especially careful when he got stuck in his master's desserts. Sebastian also allowed Ciel to take a slice of cake to his room. Once would do no harm. Quite the contrary, the boy was happy as he watched the man cut a generous slice and place it on a dessert plate. All this in the hope that Phantomhive would feel at least a little better. 

Already in the bedroom, with the rest of the house taken over by the night and only the three youngest servants working downstairs, Ciel had his clothes changed into warm pajamas and placed in the large comfortable bed to rest from the tense day. He sat propped up on comfortable pillows and covered himself up to the waist, resting his arms at his sides on top of the covers. His uneven eyes followed Sebastian's movements as he separated the count's clothes for the next day. And when he finally finished, he approached the count to adjust his posture and hand the plate of cake to the boy. Then he stopped next to Ciel's bed and watched him.

— Will my soul taste better if you do this? — The youngest asked. His expression serious.

— Feeding you cake? I confess that I am not aware that this will change your taste, Young master. — Sebastian answered, knowing that this was not the question and curious about the direction of the conversation.

— Don't do it, demon. Will the taste of my soul change if you keep flattering me? — Ciel was on the defensive.

Sebastian smiled.

— If it causes you pain or upset, yes.

— If I'm happy, would it change too? — Phantomhive knew that his sadness made his soul tastier, but he was genuinely curious to know if good feelings had the same effect.

— No. It wouldn't change anything. — Sebastian said, still with the same smile.

— You must know that acting this way doesn't make me sad. Why are you acting like this then? Is confusion such a strong seasoning? — The boy looked at Michaelis wearily.

— I have no intention of confusing you, My Lord. I just had the idea of making a chocolate cake when I entered the kitchen in the afternoon. — Sebastian tried to get around his master's questions. He liked to play this "game".

— It's not just about the cake, Sebastian. Oh, shut up! — Ciel felt irritated, maybe it wasn't the time for this.

— My young master, you seemed distressed all day. An earl cannot blame his butler for wanting the best for him. — Despite the slight playful tone in the man's voice, he was being sincere.

The boy took a deep breath and a few minutes of silence passed between them until Ciel looked at Sebastian again. He picked up the beautiful silver fork and began to eat the cake that was still on his lap. After finishing, the count stared at the plate with his head down. His two hands on the sides of the plate and a small, sad smile on his lips.

— I'm done. — Phantomhive raised the plate towards Sebastian and looked at the man.

The butler took the object in his hand and made a reference to his master.

— Good evening, my lord. — Sebastian said goodbye before walking to the door. When he had his hand on the latch, he heard that voice calling his name. Ciel had called him the same way the night before. With the same tone of voice and the same insecurity, the count looked impatiently when the butler turned around.

— Bocchan? — He answered his master's call.

— Stay here tonight. — His voice tried to disguise itself as authoritarian, but the plea was almost palpable.

— Allow me to take this plate to the kitchen and I will be back in a moment. — Michaelis was already eager to spend a few hours of his life looking at his master. A figure finally calm and rested, without all the movement and stress of everyday life.

— Go. — Ciel replied with the same intensity of anxiety.

Sebastian did as he was told. He went to the kitchen, washed the plate and returned to the count's room, all in an instant. The door to the room was closed and the demon went to his usual armchair. He sat on the furniture and blew out the candles in the room using his magic. The whole time Ciel watched Michaelis' movements with anxiety and uncertainty, as if he was planning something. As the lights went out, Phantomhive's breathing became deeper until he finally sat down on the bed and uttered unbelievable words.

— Not there. Lie down next to me. — Ciel said with a hint of irritation.

The order was not only a surprise to Sebastian but to Ciel as well. He started thinking that he didn't want his nightmares to last too long that night. With his attentive butler there, he would be calmed down before he had a screaming fit. Well, then he thought about how it wouldn't be bad to have company on such a dark night as his birthday. He perhaps acknowledged with reservations that he trusted the demon. As he ate the slice of such sweet and unique cake, he felt a little special. He felt like a little child eating his favorite food. And since Sebastian couldn't lie to his master, Ciel recognized that perhaps the man was taking care of him. All because of a soul, of course, but he was. When Michaelis left the Phantomhive room, he missed his presence, that immaculate and neutral image. It was her that Ciel had seen every day and trusted his life and revenge to. It wasn't little, after all. It was simply all he had in the hands of that evil being. Finally, when Sebastian returned to the room and blew out the candle, the count wanted to continue the conversation and look for answers, but he didn't have the courage to open his mouth. Perhaps he already knew that this scenario was a complete outrage. Lying in the same bed with his butler who happened to be a demon who wanted more than anything to take his soul. It went against all natural human instincts, but that was the only scene Ciel could think about at that moment. And then, when he finally began to speak, his reason couldn't stop his impulsive emotions.

— Young master... — Even Sebastian being a demon was in disbelief.

— Don't make me repeat myself. — Again, an attempt at authoritarianism taken for a plea. He felt pathetic and small.

— Yes, my lord. — Michaelis finally gave in, with a smile that decorated his lips in the dark.

As the demon got closer, he heard Ciel's heartbeat quickening and the contract connection revealing a strangely good anxiety. Still, the boy's nervousness was noticeable.

Sebastian took off his tailcoat and shoes, then placed himself under the count's thick winter blankets. The distance of at least an arm's length that separated the two was not enough to prevent them from almost reading each other's thoughts and feeling each other's feelings. Ciel could easily notice the confusion mixed with amusement that his butler felt, who in turn could feel the fear mixed with the guilty satisfaction of his master. Little by little the boy began to relax and in a few minutes his breathing and heartbeat had calmed down. He was already moving his body calmly to get ready in bed and the connection of the contract sent a serene calm and security to Sebastian. The demon, on the other hand, remained still in his place, only feeling Phantomhive. Feeling his calm, his scent, his presence... everything.

It didn't take long for Phantomhive to fall asleep. For the first time in those three years the count didn't have a single nightmare in the early hours of his birthday. He was restless at times, but Sebastian interpreted this as human instinct reacting to an imminent threat lying next to him. He wasn't a real threat anyway. All night Michaelis had alternated his gaze between his little earl and the ceiling, but the entire hour before he got up for his chores, he spent staring at his Ciel and admiring that figure. And when he got up, he lightly caressed the boy's soft, rosy cheeks before leaving the room with a big, contented smile on his face.