Once Upon A Dream *Sebastian Michaelis* (Black Butler Fanfiction)

Chapter IV

            “Lavender,” Ciel says distractedly, “For your eye-color.”

            “Similar to the way you named your cats, hm?” Sebastian mumbles next to me. 

            I’m already annoyed with the maid’s outfit I’m being forced to wear, so in order to hold back my anger; I force myself to ignore Sebastian. I nod with approval, to the young Phantomhive, “A last name sir?”

            “Michaelis,” he states mischievously, finally looking up from his papers with a devilish smirk, and a playful gaze.

            My eyes widen and out of my peripheral vision, I see Sebastian’s surprised expression as well.

            “Are we to be siblings, young master?” Sebastian questions, a hint of tautness and irritation in his voice.

            “No, no, you are married,” Ciel says, grinning wider.

            “Isn’t that a little unnecessary?” Sebastian questions, eyes narrowing.

            “Are you calling me childish?” the young lord asks, his one visible eye becoming shadowed and irate in the blink of an eye (A/N haha get it cause he only has one normal eye 0.o)

            “Of course not, young master,” Sebastian bows, smiling with increasing irritation.

            “If that is what you wish, my lord,” I finally reply, staring at Sebastian with cold eyes.

            “It is,” Ciel states, going back to one of his papers again, and extracting himself from the conversation with out another word.

I sigh and both the black suited butler and myself exit the room. He scowls down at me as we walk towards the kitchen.

“Oh, I hadn’t realized I was so unappealing,” I pout mockingly, “I’ll just go cry in the corner like the ‘misfit’ monstrosity that I am,” I growl out coldly, before transforming into a cat and sauntering off towards a different area of the mansion, deciding to do a few chores before heading to the kitchen. 

I dust some bookshelves and clean the floors, fluff a few pillows, wash the sheets in most of the guest rooms, and then head downstairs to the backyard.

“Finny!” I call out in an even tone.

Within a few moments, he’s bursting through the trees, atop a large silver hound. My eyes widen a miniscule amount as I take a small, unconscious, step back.

“Yes, Miss Lavender?” he asks in his polite childish voice.

“Could you grab me a few blue Hydrangeas?” I ask politely, but still gazing at him with a stoic expression, and standing with slightly bristled hair as the large dog sniffs at me.