Work Text:
Ciel was never the boy he was meant to be. Frail and sickly, shy and small. He was never the smartest, or the talent of the house. He was just Ciel.
It’s a beautiful view. Lilies and hibiscus sprawled out over a lush garden, the sight of oak trees and ponds. Despite all the stun in the sight, Ciel doesn’t feel anything more than a dull, bland sensation deep in his sternum, Ciel was never the life of the party. Or, the loveable dork. Ciel was just.. Ciel. and Ciel never found serenity in his own existence.
It’s a tragedy, really.
A scrawny, timid victorian boy plagued with the ever-haunting curse of being himself.
No beauty, world wonder, quote or read could ever bring Ciel a feeling of acceptance within himself, because Ciel feels so awfully similar to a blank page, that surely, surely he cant be human. Because humans are not a simple species.
And it’s alienating. It’s alienating to deal business cards with such lively personalities in comparison to his own. It's alienating to watch Elizabeth glee and swoon, knowing that a creature vile as Ciel could never truly be a humane sight. Ciel will forever be the outlier of every crowd he steps foot in. And maybe that is the true loss of soul Sebastian took of him.