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Perhaps one day the red-haired maid would take note of the butler’s strict insistence that she should not run inside the manor. One day, perhaps she would slow down and favour precision over speed while working. This, however, was not one of those days. Carrying a large box that the girl could hardly see over which contained a delivery of new china and silverware, Meyrin sped through the stately halls of Phantomhive Manor, the sense of urgency in her step almost comical. No matter how many times she was scolded for running (particularly while carrying heavy boxes), Meyrin always found herself rushing with the intention of completing tasks as quickly as possible. After all, wasn’t efficiency a good quality in a maid? And if Meyrin was being honest with herself, she wanted to make that butler proud above all else.
Of course, this didn’t quite go as planned. As she turned a corner, Meyrin lost her footing and haplessly stumbled forward, the box going flying in the process. But before the maid had even opened her mouth to yelp in surprise, a familiar strong arm was wrapped around her, and instead of hitting the carpet, Meyrin’s fall was broken by a disgruntled Sebastian. The heavy brown box, which was his primary objective here, balanced precariously on his extended free hand. If Meyrin had not been so disorientated, maybe she would have questioned how he was able to hold it like that. The butler sat up underneath her with an irritated sigh, and Meyrin scrambled back with a start (and a blush) as she realised that she was, once again, sitting in Sebastian’s lap.
“Meyrin. I believe I have told you numerous times not to run inside the manor.” Sebastian chided her, his voice sharp and his dark eyes narrowed in annoyance. Meyrin flinched at his scolding tone and hastily climbed off his lap, and he swiftly rose to his feet.
“I’m so sorry, I am, sir,” she frantically apologised as she clumsily stood up, cheeks still delicately flushed. She awkwardly adjusted her glasses as she looked up at the taller man, his stern gaze practically burning holes into her skin. “I was just on my way to give you the delivery we’ve been waiting for, sir, and so I- “
“That is no excuse for continuing to ignore my instructions,” Sebastian replied, with an icy irritation in his voice that made Meyrin wish the ground would swallow her up. How was this man able to make her feel as if her heart was soaring one moment, then make her feel so small the next? Every attempt she made to impress him with her work seemed to backfire and have the complete opposite effect, and for some reason, Sebastian’s disappointment stung even more this time. Box still balanced in his absurdly strong hand, the butler let out another sigh, as if to calm his irritation and stop himself from scolding the poor maid any further for potentially breaking this expensive china. “Well... never mind that. Just get back to work.” And with that, Sebastian had turned on his heels to take the box to the kitchen before Meyrin could get another word out, his tailcoat elegantly flowing behind him.
As she watched him go, Meyrin’s heart sank as a painful realisation fell into place. No, not a realisation – something that deep down, she had known to be true for a while now. Sebastian was never going to look at the red haired girl the way she wanted him to. To him, she was just another servant, incompetent at everything save for combat. The butler’s heart was closed to her, and apparently everybody else; it was impossible to tell what went on in that perfect mind of his. All Meyrin knew was that he had no interest in her, not in that way. Now, Meyrin was not at all experienced in this area, nor did she need any sort of romance in her life. But she also could not deny the effect Sebastian had on her, which had taken hold the moment he had first smiled at her. There was just something unspeakably alluring about the butler which Meyrin couldn’t quite put her finger on. He was so skilled at everything he did, he completed every task with style, and not to mention he was the most beautiful man the maid had ever seen.
However, as she stood there in the hall and watched him leave, Meyrin was reminded that no matter how much she tried, Sebastian would always be out of her reach.
--
“Finally,” Bard grumbled to himself as he finished the last of the washing up. He had been left to do it alone – Sebastian was busy with God knows what, Finny was working in the garden, Snake had other tasks, and Meyrin... well, he wasn’t actually sure where she had gotten to. The chef’s thoughts often ended up wandering to the maid, as much as he tried to focus his mind elsewhere. That was easier said than done, though, especially since Meyrin had been acting a little differently lately. Bard couldn’t quite put his finger on it – was she quieter maybe? Less upbeat? For the most part she was still her cheerful, bubbly self, but the usual sparkle in her eyes seemed dimmer somehow. Or perhaps Bard was overthinking things. It was probably nothing, none of his business.
As he began putting the newly cleaned and dried cutlery and china away, the chef heard a familiar pair of footsteps enter the room behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder at Meyrin with a small smile.
“Hey,” Bard greeted her, and was about to teasingly chide her for leaving all the washing up to him when he saw the look on her face. Meyrin’s lips, which were usually spread into a beaming smile, were pressed into a firm straight line, quivering ever so slightly. Her eyes gleamed with tears she was clearly trying very hard not to let fall, brows furrowed as she attempted to hold it all in. The sight made Bard’s chest ache – he had never seen Meyrin in such a vulnerable state before. He had seen her happy and lovable side, and of course that side of her that was absurdly skilled with firearms. Truly, Bard was sure that Meyrin was the strongest woman he had ever known. So to see her like this was... well, it was almost unnerving.
“Meyrin? What’s goin’ on?” Bard asked as gently as he could manage, unsure how to handle this sort of situation. More than that, he wanted to know what on earth could have hurt his friend like this. Meyrin remained quiet for a moment, shimmering eyes lowering to fix on the floor as if in shame. After all, she had hoped nobody would be here to see her like this, and that she could run and hide in her room undetected. Now that she was here, though, the maid realised she didn’t really want to be alone right now. Plus, Bard had always had a knack for motivating his fellow servants in times of trouble, so...
“I just...” she started, eyes still fixed on the floor as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. Meyrin had never really opened up to anybody about her feelings, so this was a first, but... she trusted Bard. Not just in combat scenarios. “I wanted him to be proud of me, I did, but... all I do is mess up,” she admitted in a voice so tiny it was almost a whisper. Bard instantly understood her meaning, which felt like another sharp pang to his chest.
He knew damn well how Meyrin felt about Sebastian; it was clear in the way she looked at him. At first, the chef had tried to push it to the back of his mind. Why should he care who Meyrin liked? That was none of his business. However, as time had passed, Bard realised why it bothered him so much. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t help but wish it was him Meyrin was looking at with those adoring eyes. What made this even worse was the fact that Sebastian didn’t even seem to notice – or if he did, he didn’t appreciate it the way he should have. How could the butler be so ignorant of what was right there in front of him? Every time Bard saw her sneaking glances at the man who apparently couldn’t have cared less, his frustration grew. But even with how strongly he felt, he was sure there was no way Meyrin would ever see him in that same light, and so he tried to push those feelings down. She deserved better than him, after all; what could Bard possibly offer her that Sebastian couldn’t? The butler outshone him in every way imaginable. So, Bard decided that he wouldn’t tell Meyrin any of this. He could handle repressing his emotions – in fact, it was a skill of his that he’d honed over the years.
As much as he had pushed these feelings away, though, right now all he wanted to do was hold her.
“Mey...” Bard spoke softly as he took a few steps closer to the tearful girl, their eyes meeting as she reluctantly stopped staring at the floor. “C’mon, you do way more than just mess up. I can’t even count how many times you’ve protected the manor with those sharp eyes of yours,” he tried to reassure her with a soft smile. As she looked up at her friend and listened to his words, Meyrin couldn’t stop the tears that spilled onto her cheeks and the small sob that escaped her. Although it felt completely foreign to her, there was something cathartic about just letting herself be vulnerable in front of somebody she trusted. Heart aching at the sight of her crying, Bard reached out to gently place a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. To his surprise, the smaller girl suddenly flung her arms around him and buried her face against his chest, slender body trembling as she cried into his jacket. Frozen in place for a moment and trying not to let his breath waver, Bard eventually let his hands carefully settle on Meyrin’s back, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t hear the way his heart was racing right now.
“He’s never gonna look at me that way,” she mumbled bitterly against Bard’s chest, and all the chef could do was rub soothing circles into her back as he held her. Now was not the time to let his own feelings for her bubble up – that wouldn’t be fair on her when she was in such a state. All Bard could do was let Meyrin cry in his arms for as long as she needed him to.
“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, you’ve dealt with way worse than this,” he murmured, unsure what else to say, but holding her a little tighter as if to accentuate his point. And despite how hopeless she felt right now, part of Meyrin believed him, too overwhelmed to question how he already seemed to know how she felt about the butler. She practically clung to his white jacket as she overflowed with emotion, her shaky sobs eventually growing quieter until she was only letting out the odd sniffle here and there. She had never actually hugged Bard like this, and she couldn’t help but notice just how warm and safe he felt. As he noticed the poor girl starting to calm down, Bard let out a small sigh of relief, though he did not let go yet, instead deciding to let her decide when the hug would end.
He would be here for Meyrin in whatever way she needed, even if that meant repressing everything and loving her from a distance.