Chapter Text
An unsteady cadence clobbers its way to your sleeping ears. The sudden resonance jolts your senses. It takes a while to adjust. Eventually, you recognize it to be a voice. But, whose voice does it belong to? It would be great if your eyes also got the wake up call. Your ears tune in, "I will make these windows nice and clean, yes I will!" It sounds like a spry young lady. "The sun's finally shining! Surely the light will wake our sleeping guest!"
Indeed, some light is desperately needed. You try to lift your eyelids; they feel glued with a grit that flakes away as the darkness finally cracks. A mesh of clouded colors seeps through. It's still too blurry to discern your surroundings. You groan in frustration. A gasp alerts your right ear. "Goodness!" The noise draws closer and a human silhouette comes into view. "There, there. Don't you worry, now. You're safe, yes you are!" You concentrate on the lulling figure. The luster of two circular stones glimmer on the entity's face. "I'm Mey-Rin, the maid at this estate. I am." A maid with diamond eyes. This place sure is opulent. "Oh! The young master! I must tell the young master, you are awake! Yes, I will!" Your vision finally comes into focus. The servant, however, clatters off before your eyes can even track her. Heavy clomps echo from the departure.
You take this solitude as a chance to scan your surroundings. Nothing is familiar. The room was adorned with blue floral wallpaper. A bouquet of bright red flowers contrasted against the looming cerulean color scheme. You lie in a vast bed draped in an embroidered quilt. A mahogany footboard had carved designs to match the floral theme. Just beyond that stood an equally grandiose fireplace. Atop its mantle were various personal items, although none felt related to you. You notice no flame below. You are thankful for that, since you were already feeling warm. Perhaps, humid is a more fitting word. The atmosphere pressed down. You felt constricted by the weight of heavy blankets.
Footsteps alerted your left ear. This stride sounded different from the maid's clumsy stomping. Your heart skipped when two figures appeared in the doorway. "Well then, I see you have finally decided to rejoin the land of the living." A tall dark man broke the silence. He was dressed in a butler's livery. Black fabric accentuated the smirk on his pale face. "What a relief this truly is." The butler moved with much grace. Despite his perfect visage, something seemed off. You scan his long slender frame. "I was beginning to fear my young lord tasked me with nursing a corpse back to health." Noises from his mouth irked you. "I must say, I was inclined to discard you. How fortunate... My perceptive master noticed a reason for your rescue." Prattle still emanates from his head, as uneven black tuffs of hair dance to his taunting. Although, you did find the source for his uncanny aura. His choppy haircut (and unwarranted quips) spoiled his butler aesthetic.
"Enough. I do not need you to question my orders, nor do I care for your criticism." Contradictory to the second figure's frail appearance, his voice booms with great depth. "My deepest apologies. I fear you misconstrue my statement; it was to complement—". The shorter person interjects, Ha! Do not make me laugh." The butler continues this bickering comedy routine. "Oh, but my young lord, haven't you heard; laughter is the best medicine." The noble boy directs his attention towards you."I am not the one in need of medicine."
His gaze lingers. His eyes, or the one that's visible, clash with his soft youthful features. He possesses a glare sharper than steel, forged with wisdom that exceeds his age. A faint nostalgia stirs, while you peer into his cerulean iris. Perhaps you two were acquainted. You search deeper. Suddenly, you find yourself submerged in a sapphire sea. Panic pulls your perspective back. Once reoriented, you realize it's just the matching blue wallpaper.
"I am the Earl Ciel Phantomhive. My staff has been tending to you, here, in my manor." This kid owns a fully staffed manor?! What have you done with your life? "You have been unconscious for a considerable amount of time. What is your current condition?" You respond with a raspy groan as lungs force up air. Sluggish mucus rolls through your esophagus. You can't recall the last time you spoke. Continuous effort leads you to choke. Soon enough, you spiral into a coughing fit.
The butler steps unnervingly fast to block his master's path. He protectively guards with an outstretched arm. What's his fucking problem? Does he think you're infected with the plague? You can't ponder long. You helplessly convulse gasping for breath. Daggers stab your chest with every thrashing movement. "Sebastian," Ciel snaps the single-worded whip-crack of authority. You feel a sharp, precise strike to a point on your back that forces the air, and the bile, from your throat in one violent burst. You collapse back against the pillows, trembling. Sebastian retreats instantly, tucking the now-soiled handkerchief into a pocket as if it were a piece of evidence.
"Control yourself." Ciel commands. He takes a half-step back, his expression shifting from curiosity to a faint, sharp-edged disgust. "I have no use for a guest who dies before they can speak." You mutter something obscene, luckily he didn't seem to hear it. "What the hell happened to me?" your voice is weak and raspy, you can barely recognize it. "Sebastian, pour them a glass of water." The butler steadily moves at his master's behest. Beside where you lay, is a glass and a pitcher placed conveniently on a nightstand. Sebastian carries out this simple request with a smile. You reach for the cup, only to be impeded by heavy blankets. What happened to your strength? "Oh! How rude of me." the butler chuckles. Gently, he lifts the suffocating covers. Finally, you hurry to that cup. You practically yank it from his hand. The water is so clear, if it weren't for the weight, one might think the glass is empty. The first sip feels like you're drinking straight from a melting glacier. A cooling breeze finally cuts through the haze of your humid headache.
The cup drains dry and you hold it towards Sebastian for a refill. The butler tilts the pitcher. Your grip falters the instant you notice your bandaged arms. This realization slows time, not that Sebastian would need a time delay to catch that falling glass.
"What happened?" your whispering lips quiver. "You were badly wounded in a fire when one of my toyshops was attacked." Ciel answers without hesitation. "Why am I not in a hospital?" The boy's expression stays still as stone. "You are an employee and you were hurt on the job. Therefore, you are my liability. I much prefer you be under my watch, rather than have an understaffed hospital neglect you." Your jaw hangs open, yet words fail to come through. "I can arrange transportation if you aren't satisfied with our service." This kid is all business, no man.
Pouring water directs your attention back to the butler, he offers you a second glass with a pristine smile. You gaze blankly into the shimmering water. Seconds past without a response. Sebastian's stance is unwavering, lips curled, and eyes closed. The earl, however, makes his move. "You needn't decide right away. I understand. All this news is daunting to hear. I'll have my butler accompany you while you make up your mind." Earl Phantomhive pauses at the doorway before he leaves. "I wish you a speedy recovery." he ends his statement with a rare smile. You observe a difference between their two grins. The master's smile fails to reach his cautious eyes.