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CONSIDER IT A BUSINESS
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Weeks passed by in a blur of dust and detergent.
Every day, you woke with the dawn, setting about your chores with a meticulousness that bordered on obsession. The house, while not squalid, bore the hallmarks of a bachelor's neglect. You started with the sitting room, sweeping away cobwebs and polishing the tarnished silverware until it gleamed. The kitchen was next, where you scrubbed the counters and washed the dishes Undertaker had left to accumulate. You paid special attention to the nooks and crannies, ensuring not a speck of dust or grime remained, unable to stand the idea of anything being less than pristine.
Over the last few weeks, you had managed to bring a semblance of life and cleanliness to Undertaker's chaotic abode. Despite the arduous work, there was a certain satisfaction in seeing the transformation. It was as if you were restoring a forgotten part of yourself, finding comfort in the routine.
This afternoon, you found yourself in the upstairs drawing room, a place you had reserved for moments of respite. You sat by the window, the light of the setting sun casting a warm glow on the empty room. A small table beside you held a fresh pot of tea, but lacking proper teacups, you had to settle for a beaker. It was a small inconvenience, one that you accepted with a resigned sigh.
In your hand was a novel, 'Frankenstein' by Mary Shelley, lent to you by Undertaker to stave off boredom. The book, with its dark and gothic themes, seemed fitting for him. You imagined Undertaker immersed in the tragic tale of Victor Frankenstein and his creation, perhaps drawing parallels to his own fascination with life and death. The thought made you smile; there was something poetic about him possessing this particular book.
You found the story fascinating, appreciating Shelley's exploration of creation and consequence, of life and death. It was dark, complex, and tragic, much like everything you had before. The creature's longing for connection and its inevitable rejection struck a chord with you. Despite its monstrous appearance, it sought understanding and acceptance, only to be met with fear and cruelty. It was a reflection of society's inability to look beyond the surface, a theme that resonated deeply with you.
But reading proved difficult today. Your mind wandered, drifting from the pages to the scene outside the window. The streets bustled with life, a stark contrast to the stillness of the drawing room. People hurried by, their faces a blur of emotions and intentions.
You watched a man shove a street vendor aside, snatching an apple from his cart without paying. The vendor shouted in protest, but the man simply laughed and walked away, tossing a coin mockingly over his shoulder. Nearby, a young woman begged for spare change, ignored by the passersby who hurried past without a second glance.
YOU ARE READING
She Devil
Fanfiction(Various!Black Butler x F!Reader) ↳❝𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐫𝐚.❞ You were once an expert hitwoman, titled as one of the world's best assassins to have lived in the 21st century. How...