Abusive!Ciel Phantomhive ?x? Reader ?x? Sebastian Michaelis

Plans For The Future

●Your POV●

I stared out of my window, quietly calculating the events of the past few days and mulling them over in my head like a bad hangover migraine. This place, with its regal decorum and tall, domed walls, was no better than the streets of mud. I wanted to leave. I wanted to case up the pure-silver silverware and the expensive things scattered about the manor and run away. Pawn it in the underground. I thought, deep within my mind that I'd gotten lucky. 

Sebastian acts as if he cares for me, but it's only because I'm likely the first woman who has waltzed into his arms. Mey-rin seems to enjoy his company, seems to enjoy it a great amount, but Sebastian seems to care none at all for her. A shame, she seems like she could get feisty. Hands tightened at my sides and I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth as a summoning bell chimed a few rooms over in the study. Exhaling slowly, I collected myself and practiced a curtsey, wandering out of the room and towards the Earl's beckon. Sebastian had beat me there, and suddenly I found myself spitting acid at him. 

He had offered to help rid me of his master, but he didn't mean it. He was far more attached to Ciel than he ever would be anybody else, and that would never change. He plans to use me as a pawn, I know it. As Sebastian left the study, I disappeared down the hallway to the kitchen, gathering together the items listed on the dinner preparation log. The door closed behind me and I turned to look to the doorway, chest tightening at the lithe black figure that stood behind me. He tied an apron about his waist and offered a curt smile, but I looked back down to my hands and only offered a "Tch" to him in response. I could feel a look of dismay burning into the back of my head and he turned to the stove, tossing a piece of wood in and following it with a match. The fire sprung to life and the smell of partridge filled the kitchen, lulling me into some sense of comfort. 

However, no matter how comfortable I felt, I couldn't shake the coldness that was radiating from the other, and for moments I considered turning and apologizing, but I couldn't bring myself to give him the satisfaction. He didn't seem bothered, anyhow, so I doubted an apology would do much. 

Was I being unreasonable? Oh, definitely. No, no I wasn't. I was being perfectly reasonable because as far as I was concerned, things were playing out according to one theory: This entire ordeal is a ploy. Ciel is known for his adoration of games. Being the Queen's Watchdog, his name wasn't unheard of, even on the streets. His name was associated with the squandering of the underground's nefarious motives, as well as his fascination with weaving mazes for wealthy scammers and illegal tradesmen to travel through. That's all I am to him. Part of his game. Sebastian, being his oh so loyal butler, has been ordered to play into it. Make him think that I could be involved with him. Get me on Sebastian's side, and then flip the tables and watch me roll to the other side like a helpless pencil on an uneven school desk. 

That's why Sebastian is so kind and Ciel so cruel. 

That's why Ciel finds kindness, and Sebastian finds apathy. 

I refused to play a pawn in the spiderweb of London's grimy streets, and I surely won't do so just because that grime has been painted gold. 

♥Sebastian's POV♥ 

She's being strange. 

I had no idea what I could have possibly done to upset her the way that I have so as I tended to the tender partridge being prepared before me, I searched every crevice of my memory. I decided, before long, that I had done nothing. Perhaps she connected me to Ciel's behavior, somehow?

Impossible. I hadn't done anything to elicit his behavior. It was a shock even to me. I'd always thought beings such as cats and... Alois Trancy was the most fickle creatures. The young earl had proven otherwise, with his finicky temperaments and newfound need to jump to violent measures. 

I wanted to talk to her. 

Tch? What did that even mean? 

I sighed lowly and placed the partridge into the stove, beginning to prepare an assortment of vegetables as I shook off the daunting idea that she now, possibly, hated me. 

In all fairness, I had acted incorrigibly. I had approached her in her room and committed unspeakable, unmannerly acts. Who was I to kiss a mortal? A servant. 

I don't even like her. I am a demon, and she is an... an angel, I suppose. With smooth, (s/c) skin and glimmering (e/c) eyes, she could cause the most callous men to smile even for moments. 

I do not like her. I do not tolerate her. I assuredly do not have feelings for her. 

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly and ran a hand through my hair, clapping my hands together quietly and returning to preparing a light sauce for the partridge, shaking my head. 

If she wants to act as if I've done something to her any more than show kindness, respect, sympathy, and nurturing, then she will receive anything but what I've given her. I do not care for her, so I will not treat her as if she's special. I will not treat her as if she's done something to warrant the blatant disrespect I have shown towards my master. I swore to the young Lord Phantomhive that I would protect and serve him. I swore to the young Lord Phantomhive that I would never lie to him and that I would always be honest. I swore to him that I would aid him in retrieving the one thing that he sought most. And what kind of a butler would I be if I couldn't remain loyal to my master?