No Turning Back (A Black Butler/ Kuroshitsuji Story)

No Turning Back (A Black Butler/ Kuroshitsuji Story) Chapter 11

Victoria grunted from behind the door and walked away, listening to her shut the bedroom door closed. I listened closely, all the while drawing my tongue slowly up and down over my sweet Vixen’s breast. She choked on a drawn out moan, breathing hard through her nose as to not make any noise.

“Sebastian… you’re a kinky bastard.” She grunted, teeth clenched.

I smirked, gently prodding my canine against the soft skin of her breast. She gasped softly, letting her head lull onto her shoulders.

“You seem to enjoy it, Little Witch.” I mocked her, letting my lips graze her collarbone.

I let my hand that wasn’t holding me over her, grasp onto her hip, and then slide up, caressing her.

Suddenly, she stiffened.

I felt it instantly, her mood change and her body tense underneath my prodding hands. Furrowing my eyebrows, I drew back, sliding my hand back a bit…and over a large bump.

A healing scar?

“Mistress…?”

She just closed her eyes tightly, seemingly in some sort of pain.

“Get out…”

I leaned closer, my hair dripping water onto her neck, not hearing her hushed words.

“I’m sorry?” I asked softly, letting my breath fan her wet skin.

“Please… get out.”

I heard that.

I flinched from her sudden rejection, honestly hurt and shocked by the sudden mood swing. Did I do something to offend her? Hurt her? The burning below my waist throbbed, but I could never force my Mistress, especially if she were ordering me.

“Is that an order?” I asked, desperate to stay with her.

Her eyes opened, revealing her contract’s mark aglow in her beautiful ebony orbs. Shocked by the emotions swimming in her expression, I crawled back to the other side of the tub on my knees.

Vulnerability.

So evident in her eyes, her slumped shoulders. Where did it suddenly come from? I wouldn’t hurt her…never. So why should she feel so suddenly vulnerable when she knows I could never hurt her?

“Yes, Sebastian… leave me to get dressed. In fact, I don’t want to see you again tonight.” Her voice held authority.

I blinked, completely caught off guard as something sunk into the pit of my stomach. Rejection? Disappointment?

I don’t know… these emotions are completely foreign to me.

But, despite how I feel, I must do as she orders.

I stood, water dripping from my every limb, but I toweled down quickly and dressed myself, only looking back to see Lucy bury her face in her knees. And though I had the sudden urge to defy her, to go to her and hold her close; I couldn’t.

What is this witch doing to me?

Lucy’s P.O.V.

My hand shook, anxiety seizing me in its quaking depths. I pressed my forehead against my knees, pushing back the images… horrid images of grubby hands, tearing at my clothes. Clawing at my skin, tearing, bleeding, laughter… Oh God, make it stop!

I whined, the feeling of the hands causing me to push further into the end of the tub.  I felt them… fingers clutching onto my ankle, dragging me back to him. My eyes snapped open and widened, seeing the man stand over me, teeth yellow and breath smelling of tobacco.

“No… no! Leave me be!” I cried, kicking my feet.

Go away! Don’t touch me, damnit! He just laughed, pointing at my scars, inflicted by his horrid hands. Him and his disgusting band of rapists. Murderers. A rap on the door didn’t catch my attention; I glued my eyes to the man’s dirty face.

Leave me be!

“Lucy!? I’m coming in, damnit!”

Don’t touch me! He reached down, grasping my shoulders, shaking me.

“Lucy! Lucy, come on! Nobody is there!”

The hands… they’re soft. No sausage fingers…

Vicky’s eyes pierced the hallucination, bringing the bathroom back into focus. I studied her soft features; soft grey eyes, choppy black hair, soft dimples.

“Vic… What… Oh God, I’m losing it, aren’t I? I’m losing my fucking mind!” I sobbed.

Despite the fact I’m wet and naked, she held me as I sobbed into her t-shirt, petting my head gently.

“It’s alright, Luce… it’s gonna be okay. You’re strong, remember?” she spoke confidently.

How can she be so sure?

“Come on, let’s get you dressed before you get yourself sick.”

I nodded, because it was the only thing I could think of doing. I let her help me out of the tub and dried myself off as she went and got my Metallica nightgown. She handed it to me, not even minding the fact that I’m completely nude. That’s always been our relationship, I guess… so used to one another.

Like sisters.

And suddenly, I couldn’t be more grateful for her. Despite how tough she’s always been, she’s my sister in a sense and has always been there for me. How could I ever take her for granted?

“T-Thank you, Vicky… I love you, sissy.” I said softly.

She blinked, surprised but smiled nonetheless.

“I love you too, Luce. Come on, let’s get your crippled ass in bed.” She giggled, watching me take the plastic cover off my arm.

I rolled my eyes, slapping her playfully in the shoulder.

But even as she left my room, turning my light off and I lie in bed; I couldn’t get Sebastian’s hurt expression out of my mind.

What came over me?

Sebastian’s P.O.V.

It’s around midnight and I’m left to stroll around the garden’s behind the mansion. The other staff were efficient and managed to get most of the chores done without my help, leaving me with another boring night.

My thoughts went back to Lucy for the thousandth time this evening and I sighed, annoyed by how much this witch seems to be getting to me.

I can’t deny the feelings she seems to be causing me to have. But why? How is she so significant compared to the thousand other woman whom I have had? Other than her being of human and immortal blood… I don’t see very much.

Other than her beauty and the way she blushes when she’s annoyed… and how completely stubborn she is…

Shit… I do have feelings for her.

“Having a problem, Sebastian?”

I stopped mid-step and froze, dreading the twisted voice that spoke to me from the darkness. Slowly, I glanced up to see the source, sitting casually on a stone bench surrounded by various bushes and flowers. His purple eye glowed in the darkness, while the other is covered by his signature black patch.

“No, My Lord. Never.” I spat politely.

He smirked, the innocent smile of a twelve year old, now twisted into something worse. Something truly evil and manipulative.

Ciel Phantomhive.