In This Hell ( V i o l e t ) [Kuroshitsuji 2] {Completed}

Chapter X : A Religious Woman

And in saying you loved me,

Made things harder at best.

I managed to finally grasp the fact that Violet was serious about courting me, not when he showed me all of those beautiful drawings, or even when he kissed me...

...it was when he agreed to attend a ball with me.

I recalled asking him quite nervously, my hands behind my back, digging intently at my fingernails as I worked up the courage to speak. He was painting, you see; and what was even worse was me having to disturb him whilst he was working. Violet got so absorbed, as if nothing else in the world even mattered bar his art. In a way, it was wonderful. And it was also quite alarming.

When I'd asked, with a shaking form and a tremoring voice, he'd tilted his head to the side in a moment of thought. As though he were considering my offer, and whether or not it would be beneficial to him. After a moment, the nod;

"Very well."

Those two words – 'very well' – managed to contain more apathy than I had ever heard Violet muster in my short time of knowing him, and that was difficult feat. I knew it wasn't like him to protest; for he was not a creature of conflict by nature. However, I could sense it. That grudge in his voice. The long suffering, 'I hate social events' expression painted on his face. He certainly was not happy about having to go anywhere.

But he was willing to go with me, and that was the important thing.

I wasn't at all nervous as I waited for the carriage to pick me up on Friday eve, merely excited – the feeling of anticipation bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I'd chosen a dress that I liked – tufts of black and silver silk cascading from the thick grey band that was my bodice, with cap sleeves – and bundled up in a heavy over coat, I hung impatiently around the front door. It was a charity gala, this ball, and only the noblest of the nobles had been invited – i.e, most of my family tree. My parents had gone ahead, and of course, Joanne was at school. And I would be seeing Anton there. So that just left me alone in the house, with a clutch of quiet servants.

As soon as I saw the hansom roll up outside my door, rocking upon its thin, spindly wheels, I didn't even bother with pretending to be the cool and collective woman that I should have been. Instead, I shouted a quick 'goodbye!' as I ran out the door, slamming it shut behind me and trotting down the steps in double quick time.

"You look eager," A dry voice said as I threw myself into the cab.

"You were late," I answered, straightening out my skirts and trying to calm my breath. After a minute of fidgeting, and trying to get my skirts to lie properly, I turned to face Violet; and found him in a suit of clean-cut, sparking... white. Violet was clothed almost completely in a white three piece, pulling out the long streaks of silvery-grey in his mane of black hair. A tar-coloured shirt was taut against his neck, fastened with a snowy cravat. And his face was completely bare –- no eyeliner, no lipstick, nothing.

"You don't look like Violet," I said quietly, staring up at him. And apart from the bored expression on his face, it was true – he really didn't.

He cleared his throat as the carriage set off. "To quote my infuriating parlour maid: 'Do the words 'high class ball' mean anything to you, Sir Gregory?' Hence the angelic visage."

I giggled. "You could have come dressed anyway you wanted. I wouldn't have minded."

"And I wouldn't have cared," Violet replied, "But it would have been impossible to leave the house. And white is such a frustrating colour – I can't sketch without the fear of smudging something onto this accursed suit."