The Villainess only wants to go home

Chapter 126 - Reunion

Ciel halted by the door, his blue eyes softening at the sight of John.

John stood with his back to them, shirtless, his broad shoulders and muscular frame illuminated by the soft light spilling in from the small window. He was pouring water from a large wooden bowl, scrubbing his arm with deliberate, heavy strokes. His muscles flexed with the motion, his back a tapestry of scars—faint lines from chains, older marks from long-forgotten battles, and the signs of a life spent in gruelling labour

Without turning, John's voice rumbled, low and gruff, his thick Aureum accent adding weight to his words. "Whoever it is, you'd better knock next time. Or I'll knock you out myself."

Ciel couldn't help the faint smile that crossed his lips as he gazed at the familiar figure before him. For all of John's gruffness, he was a man of loyalty and strength—a father figure Ciel had never openly acknowledged but always relied on.

"Please don't. I've already had my ass knocked out a couple of times the past two days" Ciel said, his voice calm but tinged with cheekiness.

John's body went rigid.

He froze mid-motion, his entire body going stiff at the sound of the voice. The room fell silent, the only sound the faint drip of water from his hand back into the bowl and the water in the basin rippling slightly as John's grip tightened around the edge.

For a long moment, he didn't move, as if his entire body had turned to stone. Slowly, he straightened, his hands falling to his sides as he turned around, slowly, almost cautiously, he turned his head, his sharp, tired eyes locking onto the figure standing in the doorway.

When his gaze landed on Ciel, who had just pulled back his hood to reveal his unmistakable orange hair and familiar face, John's expression shifted.

Ciel watched as John's expression shifted, first confusion, then disbelief, then something raw and unreadable. His usual stern face twisted into something almost unrecognisable as he took a slow step forward, his brows furrowed so deeply it looked as if he was in pain.

He didn't speak. He didn't breathe. He just stared.

Like he had seen a ghost.

Ciel swallowed, his smirk fading as he took in John's face properly for the first time. The man looked exhausted, more than exhausted. The faint bags under his eyes, the hollowness in his expression, the weight of grief that clung to him like chains, it was all there, hidden well behind the hardened exterior, but not well enough that Ciel couldn't see it.

This wasn't just about me, Ciel realised. It was about Ralph, too.

John still hadn't spoken. His breathing was slow, measured, but the disbelief in his stare remained. His eyes flickered, as if trying to make sense of what was in front of him, as if waiting for Ciel to vanish like some cruel hallucination born of grief.

Ciel's chest tightened, guilt creeping up his spine.

"Hi, John." Ciel smiled, his voice soft as he spoke.

John took step forward, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. His fingers twitched slightly, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides, as if trying to grasp reality itself. Without another second of hesitation, he strode across the room in just a few steps, his heavy boots thudding softly against the floor. Without a word, he pulled Ciel into a tight hug, his large arms enveloping him completely.

Ciel stiffened slightly at first, caught off guard, but then he relaxed immediately, his own arms coming up to return the embrace, hugging him tightly.

John said nothing, holding him tightly as if trying to convince himself that Ciel was real. His grip was firm, almost crushing, but it carried a warmth that made the moment all the more genuine.