"I don't know what's going on, but there's one thing I'm absolutely certain of: Sebastian Michaelis is not human, and I have no clue of what his intention are or what he's capable of doing. "
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Bleak.
That, she determined, had become the word to sum...
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The ninth came a hell of a lot sooner than I thought it would. I rolled over this morning after waking up to Sebastian's rapturing kiss against my skin and touch between my legs feeling slightly sore from the night before, and I sluggishly drag myself out of bed to start dressing for the day after he leaves. In the middle of tying my apron around my waist, there's a soft rap at my door.
"Mornin', Rose," Bard says with a sheepish grin with the cigarette dangling from his lips per usual. "How'd ya sleep?"
Hardly at all thanks to Sebastian. "Pretty good. You?"
"Alright." Even at his nervous habit of scratching the back of his head, the realization is still slow to hit me. "I was up all night thinkin' about this evenin'. We're still on, right?"
If there was any shock or regret to register at the question, I can proudly say that my face doesn't show it. I reach out for his arm. "Absolutely. What's the plan, coach?"
"Welluh, London's just right at two hours from here, so I was thinkin' we could leave the manor when the master goes to bed, and I can show ya around the city," he suggests with a grin. "They've got some real nice pubs in the nicer parts that aren't too shady. I mean, I don't trust that anyone would be too safe anywhere in the city, especially with that killer still bein' on the loose and all, but we shouldn't run inta too much trouble at these places we'd be goin'. Besides, if we do, I'm pretty confident we could handle it, don't ya think?"
I smirk and pat my thigh where my recently-sharpened dagger is strapped. "What time should I be expecting you at my door?"
"Nine should be good, right?"
"I'll be ready," I smirk, "and expecting flowers. Finny's garden's been looking impressive lately ever since the herbicide magically disappeared."
Guilt bubbles up in my stomach at the sight of his sheepish grin and stammered, "Right. I'll see you at nine tonight, princess."
He leaves after the two of us awkwardly grin at each other. I close the door when he disappears from my sight, the guilt nagging as I lean against the cool mahogany. When I originally agreed to the date, it was partially to spite Sebastian and just so happened to be well before he made any wet dream I've had and every raunchy novel I've read realities.
We're just going as friends, I try to reason with myself while braiding my hair that now falls right to the middle of my ass and coiling it into a bun, shoving pins so hard in it that I'm shocked my scalp isn't bleeding.
Sebastian isn't chatty when I meet him in the kitchen five minutes early, but even though the two of us say little to one another, it doesn't stop him from finding excuses to lightly touch me, whether it be brushing our fingers or placing his hand delicately on the small of my back to get past me, chaste gestures as if his dick has never been buried inside me while he uttered obscenities against my neck. I meet him back in the kitchen to make Ciel's lunch then again to make his afternoon snack, a three-tier afternoon tea.
