𝙷𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚎𝚝𝚑 {𝓒𝓲𝓮𝓵 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻}

Chapter 8|DOVE AND THORNAPPLE

❝Fluttering Cotton, Brambly Hues.❞

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   LIKE A WITCH PULLED from the flame, the whistling kettle lulls to a whimper.

"As you have previously claimed to have made tea, I'd like to see how far your knowledge goes.." he strides your way, a smile playing at his lips, "..would you be so kind as to make me a cup?"

Would that you could say no. Alas, there he stood, awaiting your response.

"You said I was to help.." there's a strain in your smile you hope he doesn't note, "but it isn't my tea going up to the young master, right?"

The act in and of itself blasphemy upon the ears. His tea, his daily drink of choice, your responsibility.. you could hardly imagine it.

"Should your brew be up to par," Sebastian's tea eyes join his sheepish act, "Then I see no reason it should not."

How's he so sure I won't poison it? A leech wedged between your brain matter, despite its intent to flee.

What could you do? The night of your arrival, delving into his muddy mind, you couldn't help if a few bugs latched on. As though welcoming. Your home before a dump yard filling your entirety with crawling phantoms. A house at times engulfed in flame, set to rain, and sunny should the stars align. And from it all, your body a haven to inhabit every parasite.

From the beginning, you were well aware. All that glitters is not gold.

"I'm.. uncertain of the taste.." Your gaze is forlorn, doing your best to play your amnesiac role despite the flurry of doubt that fills your soul. It was rather easy, you find, when you really didn't know how to make a decent cup of tea.

"This assessment will allow me to see where to place focus in my.. teachings.." Glancing once to your lips, your hands. Somehow, you find the look in his eye unsettling. Sebastian hands you the tin of tea, Darjeeling, with a haunt of gloom and shadows only a demon could summon, "Just think of it as another mystery that cannot be solved.. and make it up as you go."

The grin that lines his pointed lips grinds your will to a blunt. His gaze whispered what his lips would not.

Of tarnished steel and bloody lips.

"..Though my memories are foggy, I will do my best."

☽ ⛥ ☾

"(Y/n), place the tray on the tea cart once you have finished." His voice among the clatter of dishes snaps you out of your daze.

"Yes sir.."

After trying your hand at brewing tea, Sebastian gave you a, "..passable, at least." mark. Not that you minded, without expectations, what have you to lose? You regarded it as a win as the best mark you thought you'd receive lay much below.

Of course, when compared to Sebastian's version of Darjeeling, it was forgettable.

There was even a point you mentioned, "Can I use this for practice? Mine tastes like bitter dirt with a spray of perfume and I want to be able to make the young master good tea, too."

Sebastian gazes into the pale gold liquid thrust to his face. Beyond it, a determined sparkle in your gaze. Although it was a poor excuse and frankly waste of good 1st flush tea, he finds your close attempts impressive enough. "..I see you are eager to please."

You hesitated then. Is that how it seemed? What it was? All you wanted was to be of some use to better improve your chances of survival.. and to ease the burden Ciel and everyone in Kuro would face going forward..