How are we, on a scale of one to ten? Could you tell me what you see?
We continued conversation, then, as if nothing else had been said on the matter. Sebastian had taken to quizzing me about my formative years; before I met Dorian, before Edward was so sick.
Things weren't much better. Edward and I had been orphaned at a very young age and thrown into a workhouse. The master there wasn't overly cruel, so at the time, we supposed that we counted ourselves lucky – but no child should have to go through that sort of primitive labour. That was what had weakened Edward so, I believed.
He listened intently to me as I ranted on – against the state, against the queen, against the monsters of the establishment who allowed such young people to suffer in such a horrific way. He listened about what I wished to do, whom I wished to punish, offering quiet condolences every so often.
And it was strange, having Sebastian be so gentle with me. He almost reminded me of Dorian in that respect; eager to listen to me, offer some sort of advice where he could. Maybe he sensed the fact that I was fragile, slightly closer to snapping than usual in the odd circumstances.
"Of course," he said finally, as I tapered off into a stream of angry mutterings, "You do realize that there is no way in which you can possibly punish these people, all of them. You cannot possibly find every single person that you believe to be at fault, yes?"
"I can try."
"You can most certainly try." He gave a slight smile. The night had reached us completely, so Sebastian's sharp features were shadowed in black. "But we – that is to say, my young master and I – still have not found the ones responsible for the murders of his parents."
"Oh," I said, soft. "His – Is that why—"
"Yes." Sebastian gave a very curt nod. "I have been with my young master for quite some time, and we still have not found his parents killers. Now, we are looking for quite a small group of people, it would seem. You – you want to punish the entire government, plus countless others that you feel could have prevented your brother's death, the pair of your suffering. It is simply impossible."
I shook my head, feeling suddenly deflated at his words. He was right, of course, but I didn't want to think that way—
"Don't," he said softly, interrupting my thoughts. "Don't let hate fuel you like it fuels Lord Phantomhive. It will eat you, Celeste, until there is nothing else but that hatred remaining of you. And of course, then it is not really you at all; only a shell."
I couldn't help but stare ahead, lost in my own thoughts as the darkness of the woods swallowed us completely. It was such a calming atmosphere to think, in nature, and the rocking of the carriage soon made me feel incredibly tired...
I felt myself beginning to slip off, my head drooping. I didn't even try to keep myself awake – really, sleeping was much more favourable than having to stomach the ride. As I dropped, something warm was draped around me, and I was pulled closer to a body.
"You're going to fall off, if you are not careful enough."
"Ah... psh, nah," I mumbled, catching onto Sebastian's free hand sleepily, holding on tight. There was a sigh above me, but he left me off.
Obviously, I was surprised later on when the demon shook me awake with such a ferocity I thought we were experiencing the United Kingdom's first earthquake. With a loud shriek I bolted upright, only to have my mouth covered by a gloved hand.
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Hospital For Souls (M i c h a e l i s) [Kuroshitsuji 3]{Completed}
Fanfiction"Hold me close, don't let go, watch me burn...In this Hospital for Souls." "...the one thing that is absolutely awful about being a reaper is the eyesight problems that come with it, he has decided. Even now, in the sunlight (the...