The Duchess: Kuroshitsuji FanFic.

14- A Lost Child.

"Unbelievable!" Amelia shouted, passing from one side of the shop to another. "First, he invites me to go on a date, then he kisses me, he steals my first kiss! And he dumps me. And then! Then, I wake up next morning and Mey-rin tells me he went out with the five-year-old!" Amelia threw her hands up in protest.

"I mean, if he's trying to avoid me, he might as well tell me!"

Millie calm down for a sec, maybe he didn't even want to kiss you!

"W-What?" Amelia asked.

Ugh, what I meant was that you know! Maybe he was being spontaneous but it didn't end out that well...

Amelia huffed. "Well, if he was being spontaneous then he failed! Terribly!"

...Well, at least he tried...

"Oh shut up!" She sat down on a nearby coffin just as Undertaker came in with beakers of tea.

"Hehehe...She's right Millie, maybe the butler doesn't mix with the term 'surprise'."

He set down the tray of tea beside her.

After she'd found out that Sebastian and Ciel had left on an investigation she barged out of the manor furious and flaming, ignoring the servant's calls and warnings. She arrived at the Undertaker's, having nowhere else to go.

She sighed "It's just...ugh! He is unbelievable!" She was so frustrated, if Undertaker had not been there to stop her then she would of had probably kicked and broken every single item within the shop.

"Relax Millie, I'm sure he'll have some decent excuse as to why he dumped you in the middle if your date right after he kissed you without any warning." Undertaker flashed a grin at her and handed her a cup of tea.

She sighed. "Well, what of he doesn't?"

"Hehe...Then, I'll personally go kick his sorry ass." Undertaker's voice became low and serious.

Amelia sighed and took a sip of her tea, it was too cold to be called tea , the leaves hadn't properly soaked all their essence into the water and she could see that the beaker hadn't been cleaned in a long time.

Just how she liked it.

She giggled lightly, suddenly forgetting her troubles and remembering old times.

"What are you laughing about, love?" Undertaker asked.

"I remembered the time I agreed on teaching you how to make proper tea if you taught me how to sew...and how I failed terribly."

Undertaker smiled halfheartedly, because he also remembered those times when things where brighter, simpler, happier.

Amelia place back her tea. "Undertaker I have to leave now, they're probably going nuts looking for me back at the manor."

Undertaker only nodded as he reached out to pick up the beakers of tea and place them back on their tray.

Amelia got up and hugged him before she left.

"I love you." She smiled.

"I love you more." He replied.

"I love you more than you will ever love bad jokes." She giggled.

Undertaker and Amelia both laughed. She opened the door and stepped out to the fresh London air, her way back to the manor would be long, and quiet.

***

Amelia's heeled boots clicked slightly as she made her way down the cobblestone streets. She wrapped her trench coat closer to her, it was getting colder by the minute.

Hey...can you smell that?

Amelia stopped walking for a moment. How could she have not smelled it before?

It was metallic, sharp, strong. It was blood.

Blood was a thing that no matter how many times she'd smell, see or touch, she'd never get used to.

It's coming from over there!

She turned her attention to one a narrow alley at her left. Slowly, as if she were a predator waiting for the right moment to attack it's dinner, she walked over to the entrance of the alley and peeked into the alley.

From where she was, she could see the puddle of blood that started at her feet and transformed into a small trail away from her.

She covered her nose before following the small trail into the alley.

Every step she took seemed eternal, as much as she wanted to find out what (or who) was at the cause of that pool of blood, she had a nagging feeling that told her that whatever she found there would cause her tons of trouble.

Within the dark she could make out a small frame, lying on the floor, unmoving.

Amelia ran over to it and even though it was dark she could still make out small features of the scrawny little boy lying half dead, in a puddle of his own blood.

And it terrified her.