𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖔𝖓: 𝕮𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖙

Lost Boys

The moon was like a sliver of silver heaven in the sky. There was not a single cotton cloud blocking out its gleam in the middle of the pitch black night. The crescent was balanced just so that it appeared to sit on the top of the wall encasing the garden, slouching like a lanky teen boy laying over his balcony and watching the people below him bustle around like ants. And the vines that crept up the walls reached up like thirsty beggars hoping to catch just a droplet of rain from the clear sky above. The flowers that filled the garden with their heavy perfumes were scattered and blossoming like dancers on a ballroom floor. It was a scene beautiful enough to bring anyone to their knees in awe. And in the middle of it all sat a spotless white table with ten perfectly spaced chairs. The chair at the head of the table was already taken.

"Welcome, everyone," the Vice Headmaster addressed the guests as they entered the garden. "Please, sit." He gestured to the nine remaining chairs and each of the boys took their respective seats. The Fags sat across from their Prefects in perfect succession. Green House sat the farthest away from the entrance, followed by Purple House, then Red House, and finally Blue House. Only one seat remained empty.

Ciel Phantomhive felt as if his legs were made of lead as he walked to the empty chair that sat at the end of the long table. He could feel the piercing gaze of the man who sat at the head of the table and it made the hair on his neck rise. The man's face was shrouded in the shadow cast down by his top hat and his hands rested, folded and covering the bottom of his face. Not a single ounce of emotion was visible on his snow white skin. His only feature that the Earl could clearly see was his long, thin nose. And the man uttered not a single word as Ciel sat down, joining the rest of the invited guests at the table. For there was still one last person who had not taken a seat.

Though there was no chair for her, nor had there been an invitation sitting on her bed when she returned to the dorm, Y/N sat between the blossoms and the sleeping bugs that inhabited the garden. She had not been given permission to see the way the moon kissed the scene unfurling before her. The words that were to be said were not privy to her ears and the monsters unmasked were not supposed to be exposed before her. And yet, she had snuck into her hiding spot through locked doors, empty and cramped halls, and under the noses of eight boys. Nothing that happened at this Midnight Tea Party would not be scalded into the mind of the Lady who sat watching like a feral hunter stalking its prey.

"You should have your tea now," the Vice Headmaster suggested to break the silence that had settled as Ciel took his seat.

"It's a little dull, but let's toast with a cup of tea," Redmond hummed with a charismatic smile as he plucked his teacup from the display that sat on the tabletop. "Lawrence, propose a toast."

"Very well then," Bluewer answered as he too picked up his own cup and saucer set. "We have kept with tradition and seen the Fourth of June through without incident." Lawrence raised his cup, "A toast... To Weston Col-"

"One moment if you please," Ciel cut off his upperclassman. His blue eye was colder than the glacial waters that had so recently lapped at his bones as it drug his friend below its freezing waves. "As it stands, I can't sincerely drink to this toast."

"Why is that?" Bluewer asked, nervousness lacing his voice.

"Something weighs on my mind. Derrick Arden and his friends." As Derrick's name left Ciel's lips, each of the Prefects looked as if they had seen a ghost. Their faces went white and their eyes became frantic. "I can't raise my teacup until I see them," Ciel stated as he set his cup back down on its saucer with a click of the porcelain.

"Ciel," Edward said in a warning tone as he too began to lower his cup.

"Headmaster, sir," the Earl addressed the figure at the head of the table. "Will you listen to what I have to say?"