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Summary
“How…childish,” Ciel murmurs, turning the bracelet this way and that. Surely this is meant as a jest, the beast teasing him somehow. Thinly veiled patronization disguised as affection.
But even as Ciel scowls at the damned thing, it only seems to gleam brighter as it captures rays of light, sparkling like the waves crashing against the pier. He almost finds that more insulting. That the piece is so lovely. That he likes it.
How revolting.
Or: After Brighton, Ciel is left with more than just a souvenir and the memories of his and Sebastian's time by the sea. Misery loves company, as they say, if only he had a little less of both.