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. . .Damn, how dare he catch me in a time like this.
It was rather unseemly of an upcoming gentleman, so why would I put up with such utter nonsense from a student here who had forcefully put himself onto me since the moment I had stepped on that lawn. . . ? It was rather absurd, yes, but the memories of a starry night full of weakness and reassurance would never leave my memory, as well as the other things that had shocked me in the past.
What was surprising about this encounter was that I had never experienced something so, I guess you could describe it, "heartwarming." Or, I could be merely forgetting the life I have had before I witnessed it all get destroyed in the sounds of swift, loud triggers being fired and the ceasing of my family right before my very formerly innocent eyes. He made me feel as if it was all reversed for once, my body relaxing, remembering that not every single person could be such a danger to my life as were the people that I have spited throughout all of my adolescent years, or that not everybody was simply. . . just a pawn. You aim to destroy the pawns that come toward you, but this specific one had managed to get a little too close to me.
What a tedious night that was going by, as I watched out of the nearby rather large window, only a handful of feet away from this mediocre bed. I genuinely hated sharing the room with so many other boys, even though they were rather polite and didn't make a single squeak— perhaps I was the only one awake at this hour. The covers I was under didn't feel that comfortable, as I would wholeheartedly expect the finest comforters that were available if students are expected to survive in this school for six whole years, and it's held for the wealthy. Well, I guess they hold the finest comforters that weren't some lifeless bedsheets as I was soon to learn.
The pillow was rather annoying, it sunk easily the moment my head rested on it, perhaps I could use a second one if they even thought to supply me with another to my other side, since it could absolutely fit; the bed was that humongous for a frail child like me;
I didn't quite understand why I had so much space in this bed, it's like they were expecting somebody to lay down next to me. One thing for certain, I did not expect anything of the sort whatsoever. I enjoy my privacy and my comfortability, but it seems like I began to view those terms in a different way after tonight.
These gowns we had to wear were loose, similar to my own nightwear, but they could make a regular child feel secure due to the soft material. However, the fabric couldn't compare to a genuine human being, something I never thought I'd rely on for a feeling of safety, so foolish of me, indeed.
Weston College felt like a trek, somewhere I would never go again even if it was insisted on. I hadn't even been at the school for a week, not even a complete seventy-two hours, and downright snakes from completely different boarding houses begun chasing my tail. I don't understand what influences them to be so greedy for useless power; how you could wish such harm on those simply because they're more intelligent than you and are available to do more in his life than them? I guess I can not be talking on that subject, but Maurice Cole would be jealousy if the emotion was a human. My eyes had reflected in the moonlight surfacing the window glass, my contract seal breathing peacefully because I hadn't expected anyone to face me tonight. My face embodied all of the vibrant colors; ranging from my bright, peacock blue eye that matched the stars tonight, and the ugly purple behind my eyepatch that has been implanted til the day I pass away. However, I didn't expect a tint of bright pink to spread across my face this particular midnight. I was more busy on other things, such as wondering how I was going to regain my trust with the Prefects after the infamous Maurice Cole began his compulsive lying frenzy, yes— I was rather excessively pondering this thought. I was glad I got a break from something so intrusive when I heard him, but for what necessary cost?
My free ear heard the sound of rattling, from a bed that wasn't my own, then a sequence following a collection of footsteps, barefoot on the wooden floor. Who could possibly be rising so late at night, when everybody else around is sound asleep. I would've never guessed it to be a boy of the obedient character, but I was wrong when I heard my own name be called softly out by him. . .
"Phantomhive. . . ? Are you asleep yet?"
I was anxious brainstorming the ways I could annihilate a senior student in my own tracks with the help of Sebastian, or you say, "Professor Michaelis," but once that Scottish accent had called out to me my heart couldn't do anything else except come to a halt, like a carriage driver tugging on a horse before the vehicle causes an accident. I had gulped to myself, what could he be wanting now, when he has suspicions that I'm asleep? Who does he think he is. . . ? I hope he doesn't think he's anybody special to me or of notable importance. . . why are you looking at me like that, he isn't. . . ! That's absurd to think in such an abstract way, it doesn't matter that the mere thought of him made my heart leap out of my chest rather, my words are of more importance than human nature! ! !
I had opened my eyes wider, as they were half shut before— I tied my eyepatch onto that outcasting purple seal, though I prefer my black one way more. Even though I was absolutely repulsed by such an unexpected visit, I couldn't exactly refuse what was about to happen, as I turned around, my free eye visiting with his two glowing light brown ones— oh, they were like a source of candlelight in this corner of darkness I isolated myself in, these curtains above this rustic bed swallowing me whole like my time has come early, but his presence told me otherwise. He hadn't even prepared, his glasses were absent and his short, light brown hair was fairly messy and tangled, I could tell he was tossing and turning excessively tonight, so what on earth could be bothering him so much that he had to consult me? I'm rather. . . flattered. . . as my cheeks maintained that same airbrushed light pink harmony.
It couldn't come that soon. . . not when McMillan is here, possibly wanting to ask me something that's been intruding his thoughts. I relate heavily, he plagues mine as well— NO, DON'T BE OUTLANDISH ! NOT IN THAT WAY! ! ! I mean, in a way of how he treats me like I'm somebody special, like I'm somebody that's worth love even after I've been so broken. . . somebody who isn't out to use me as a benefit to himself, but rather someone that he's interested in helping. You didn't hear this from me, but I rather enjoyed his rambles about how the public school operates, it was more fascinating than reading off of the manual that they provided you— okay you were expecting to hear me say that. . . Quiet, you bastard.
I was upset to not see him and his dark brown, sunkissed freckles smiling at me like he usually does, I needed to urgently fix that; oh, I sound so hypocritical, don't I? I'm in constant fear of forming a genuine one, it's reassuring to see his happiness do it in my favor, and for me to be the cause was an entirely different story; I didn't know I was so likeable. All of those fluffy thoughts swarmed through my brain in only a couple of seconds until I told him that I was still wide awake— one thing lead to another, and he wanted to chat with me, at midnight— I didn't mind, I enjoyed having him around me at times. . . you have never heard me complain once. Sometimes, I didn't enjoy the silence, the loneliness of the new life I've forcibly had to take upon, and company from someone I know wasn't using me for his own benefit made me feel cozy in a way I can't precisely describe since. . . I guess. . . thirteen year old boys, emphasizing on one like me, don't know how to elaborate on this sort of topic. It was hard for me to accept that I didn't only see him as an information script, but rather as something more. . .
I watched the bed that I had to call my own for a few days begin to subtly rattle as well when I felt him pulling himself onto it alongside me, getting under the covers that I was decently snugged in as he copied my manner. It was like his nightwear could brush up lightly against me at any moment, and while I wasn't in the mood for that, it wouldn't be like I'd get angry at him for such an honest mistake, I wouldn't mind someone as innocent and unknowing like him to do something like that, considering he's done way worse, like bump into me with no prior warnings before.
I noticed beforehand he brought his pillow and set it aside on the lonely side of the bed, him snuggling in close to me felt as if he was a missing puzzle piece. Oh, what am I saying. . . this is very out of my character, very unbecoming of an Earl who is already in an arranged marriage and occupied with a betrothed, but this current situation was never an arrangement, it was whereas that I was letting him carry on, I was letting him get so close to me out of my sheer free will when I typically had borders fire up way before someone would get to this point, even over "chatting for a wee bit." So. . . why are they not working? How would Lizzy feel, seeing me potentially in the arms of another, one who's not likely associated with such high-status blood like our own, why would my mind be against me in different ways than just the invasiveness of unhealed trauma? Why, would I ever feel safe around someone by such a forgettable surname?
Why, would he be important, how could he be any different than the other people who had befriended me like Freckles for instance. . . I don't see any daggers and recurring flames this time. Just a confused face, staring me directly into the eye that was the only visible one for his sake as I was now well turned around, my back beginning to face the window instead of my unpleasant appearance. I don't want him to exactly see the type of person I am. . . the type of person that would get left behind if they opened up. . . I can't lose such a saint like him.
After our little chat had ended, (author note: If you watched the season you would know what they talked about, I'm not gonna write that out) I expected him to want to return back to his own bed, because who would ever even consider sharing a bed with someone who's so. . . unapproachable.
But I guess he didn't mind, so much to the point where I watched his eyes close entirely after he was just smiling at me like he does best, insisting that it was nothing much that he would help me in such a way against Maurice Cole. He was the type who snored a lot, but he looked so carefree sleeping beside me, only a pillow away, the distance less than the full length of a ruler.
I wonder why he had to bring his own pillow when only one was enough for the both of us, if he had been planning to "spend the night." I guess you could say I understand how Arthur must've felt now, I can visualize why he would want to pat my head, like I'd love to for McMillan in that present moment, seeing a boy who could trust someone so easily to sleep next to his self-named "school chum" while I'm stuck with nothing but night terrors to the point where I typically keep a pistol under my pillow. If I had the gun, I wouldn't be using it for me but rather for him if anyone tried to disturb his slumber. Why do I feel so protective over somebody I'd wish to rather not bond with, but I'm desperate for compassion, the authentic kind opposing the type Soma tries to bring to the table.
I felt like I wanted to truly be his friend, but it could simply be just a sign of weakness. . . . .
I slipped into a state of unconsciousness as he settled my worries about the Scarlet Prefect's fag, and his presence that felt like a positive radiation had seemed to seep into my sleeping patterns, I lay there unwary as I face him with my eyepatch still on.
I have no idea what could've motivated me in my system to fall asleep so carelessly next to him, this entire interaction and my thought process was nothing like Earl Ciel Phantomhive, but rather Sirius finding a friend when he's given the chance to play outside. The covers originally were decent, they weren't as comfortable as they could've been for a luxurious school, but they were enough to keep me warm throughout the night, or so I had thought. . .
Until it felt like some entity had swept me away from the ease and comfort I was originally feeling.
The familiar cage bars felt damp and cold as my weak, smaller hand had slid against them, and so did my dress and everything else because of the strange humidity floating around in the unrecognizable air. My hair was messy like McMillan's when he arrived at my bed. . . but the setting I was in seemed to be way before I spent a few nights at Weston College, no— it seemed to be taking place approximately three and a half years before that, a point in my life where I felt as if I had nothing for me in a matter of a couple weeks.
The breeze was chilling. . . the covers feel as if they could suffocate me— my cheeks felt like they were on fire as I was falling asleep from the humiliation. . . but now the only source of red I'm aware of in this delusion are the frequent cuts that embody my hands and all over my body as it took a bit to understand my surroundings and where I've returned, once I realized, I've ghostly felt the ooze of blood dripping from my eye as it earned it's purplish aura, like a dream it felt out-of-context and disordered; I was disoriented.
Not before long I saw my brother staring at me. . . these were the days where he was the only one I had shared a bed with in my entire lifetime. Ciel was there for me, he wasn't using me for his own benefit, but rather he was the older brother who was interested in helping me run a private life aside from these violent, whimsical duties that I had coming up in the future.
He treated me like I was somebody special, someone who was available to love even if I was only intended to be a spare. . . I was nothing important to anybody at all it seemed like except him, and now I had rewatched in this enchantment seeing my stronger yet helpless sibling be dragged away mercilessly by arms of greater superiority than we could ever own up to combined.
It felt like only two weeks since we were living like average children, it had felt like everything was so recent once again, it felt as if it was happening in the present moment again, it felt as if I was living physically in this cold and unwelcoming cage again, a tag stripped onto my throbbing ear in replacement of the pillow my healed ear was just innocently laying on.
What was happening. . . it surely isn't real. . . it must be a dream. . . all of it. . . I can't revert back here. . . my two in-tact eyes at the age of ten can't witness any more than they have and my pain can't be matched to how it was. . . or how it is right now. . . I can't tell what's reality anymore. . . if this is my subconscious mind at play or my twin brother is truly being laid out for sacrifice like an animal facing cruelty, as if we were in a slaughterhouse for a secondary time. . .
It's all in my head, it has to be, I can't bear to hear his screams anymore, I can't bare to reach my filthy, disgusting arm out that had failed to hold onto him tight, I couldn't bear to witness me losing the only person in my life who thought I was special, the one who believed in me and my capabilities, even when I couldn't believe in myself. I didn't know what to do in this night terror, misty black auras swarming around my eyesight, the chanting getting as loud as ever, deafening my ears enough to make them bleed from the unclean ideology they bestow. My heartbeat syncing with this chaotic setting as it was all I could hear. I wanted a hug so badly, my eyes stinging from the river of tears that began to stream down my face, an alternate kind of tiredness that was more emotional than a necessity. I needed affection. . . I needed comfort. . . I couldn't be alone, I can't let Ciel die again. . . I need to be strong enough, even though I may be the youngest brother, I cannot be broken and useless, I wish I hadn't sold my life to a demon, I cannot be a lamb prepared for slaughter like my own brother was. . . DAMN! EVEN DEMONS ALIKE ARE GREEDY, HE ISN'T SATISFIED WITH DEVOURING ONLY MY SPECIAL ONE!
I matched my brother's screams as the strange man began to lift his weapon once again, perhaps I was louder than him as he reached his arm towards me as well. . . a bond that nobody would think as inescapable.
My stomach is churning more than a distorted drawing, everything seemed to be ghostly— It didn't feel real. . . it couldn't be real. . . this can't be real. . . my heart was going to give out, stress killing you at such a young age should be criminal, but the revival of such emotions was causing me an outrage I couldn't handle, but I had realized I could still think of present moments that I knew I couldn't think of if this was a genuine recreation, this isn't real.
It's not genuine, I shouldn't have been freaking out, I knew it was outrageously ridiculous but. . . I couldn't withstand it, all of this strength I built up for the past three and a half years feels as if it was for nothing; worthless. I am nothing more than a helpless child in need of comfort by somebody I could trust, I am nothing more, I am nothing superior no matter how much I hide behind imaginary shields or irreversible contracts.
I am just a child. Why can't I accept this for once.
I can't let Sebastian take anybody else close to me.
I can't put McMillan in danger by accepting his affection, but this night can't possibly harm me in any way, there is nothing crucial at play. . .
My consciousness had been regained. The first step to recovery for me and for the boy next to me in bed.
Yet, I felt so guilty for seeming to fall into his arms once I woke up, trembling and sweating from the horrors I just had to relive all in what was realistically several minutes. His arm seemed to soak as well through his cotton sleeve, or that could've been my own, I felt like a slippery slope to him I bet, but it took me a few minutes to fully process what was happening.
His eyebrows were lifted, his face appearing more dark than I'd ever expect. I had never seen such a horrified look on McMillan before in my entire time of knowing him when my vision had retrieved its quality, my uprising pulse previously making all of my senses spiral out of control. He was biting his lip in fear, staring at me like I had just gone into cardiac arrest for a concerning amount of time.
When I regained my sense of hearing as well, I could hear him sniffling, the crystal clear tears forming in his typically live and energetic eyes was nothing more than troublesomely upsetting for even a hopeless young boy like myself. When I had regained my sense of touch, I had felt him hug me tightly in a rapid motion, my head was underneath his chin, as he curdled me into his own body, clearly the poor adolescent had been thinking out of his pure, intensified emotions rather than what was logically important to do for someone who had a traumatic night terror. His free sleeve was filled with snot from all of the nose wiping he was doing, I'd be shocked more than I already was if he could even breathe with all of the crying he was accomplishing in that moment. Every second that passed by, his everlasting hug grew tighter and tighter, the more passing minutes I lay there hyperventilating, verbally irresponsive. He shook me gently, my face was burning red. . . I was the uppermost of uncertain of what to be saying, I don't even know if I could've formed a sentence. As I felt aghast from all of the physical affection he was forcing onto me, I had gotten it rammed into my head that he was excessively touchy in a playful way with his friends such as I. . . and I consider myself such with him now as I accept his blatant care.
". . .Y-you're okay right. . . please speak to me. . . I can't let you go until you talk to me, I can't lose such a brilliant person like you, Phantomhive. . ."
"You can make it through, I-I KNOW you can, hmm?"
"There's r-really nothing to be a-afraid of. . . I'm here for you right now. . . a-alright?"
I heard him gasp once more as a reflex to his sobbing, and I felt his sweaty hand brush my semi-damp bangs to the side, it seems as if we're both accumulated with the sweat caused by the drastic fear we both had to go through. His speech was slurred by the massives, something I would expect from somebody in distress. I turned my head upwards to his as I stopped hyperventilating as much, my heart rate began to drop as I had realized I was once again outside of the cold cage, and inside of the warm arms of somebody I could. . . call my special person.
I could hear him whispering to me, his accent still there but it was less heavy the more serious he had gotten about things, he had never been in such a panicked state before in my ever-so limited knowledge on my "closest" school friend.
"PHANTOMHIVE! !"
I continued to fixate my gaze upon McMillan, all I could see him as was some sort of angel as my entire body began to curl up into a tighter and tighter ball when my tears finally began to dry, as they seemed to have came along with me from the dream world. I don't believe my screams have synced completely, or else the other boys would be suspicious. I could barely think straight at the moment, I could embarrassingly only think of how McMillan felt like a reincarnation of that special someone I once had. . . a special someone that I would be desperate to spend my remaining years with, somebody who had these capabilities that wasn't deemed a threat to my contract or to the demon who was after my soul, I had at least thought. I buried my head into McMillan's chest on his cotton gown, the neckline of his gown being stained with my tears as they spread out like watercolor paint. It was way more comfortable than a pillow mentally and physically. My legs had curled up entirely, resembling this ball eventually, and McMillan had kept his arm around me, making room to slide his left one on my other side, encapsulating me into a complete, sincere hug that was full of what felt like love, something I hadn't recognized in a while. I hugged around his neck area, that being the only place I could reach, stroking through his hair a tad-bit because it felt comfortable to me in the moment, and he didn't mind at all. Were we. . . cuddling. . . ? I'm not exactly certain. At that moment I could only think about how he had saved me from my almost repetitive doom, and I knew that I was safe from any underlying dangers in his arms, since this was a time where I was in fact not alone but Sebastian was also absent from the Sapphire Owl Dorm rooms. I could feel him breathing heavily still on my scalp, as he was still adjusting to the fact that I was thankfully calming down and I wasn't suffering anymore as long as I had him by my side. I could hear him chuckle a little, not being irritated that I hadn't responded to any of his previous statements:
"You sure scared me, Phantomhive, I'll give you excess points on that factor! ! !"
McMillan had exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood as he still cuddled me tightly. I took a deep breath, I believe it was appropriate for me to say something to express my gratitude for all he's done for me;
"I l-love you, McMillan. . ."
I whispered weakly, I might as well just submit to what's happening right now. I had never said to anybody outside my family, but I didn't mind the wide-eyed McMillan that had risen in response to that once I drifted off in what can only be described as a sunshine's embrace.