Kuroshitsuji - SebaCiel's drawing

The Drawing.

Kuroshitsuji – Drawing. A SebaCiel Fanfiction.

I grip my pencil in my hand, and stare angrily at my work, and all of its flaws. People always tell me that I'm very good at drawing whenever they see my pictures, and I tell them I'm not, out of modesty. Sebastian is one of these people, peering over my shoulder and chuckling when I angrily reach for my eraser. But Sebastian isn't here now, and that's why I'm doing THIS particular picture. It's a drawing of Sebastian, my butler, brandishing cutlery in the fashion of claws, jumping into the air, smirking. It's actually one of my best pieces, so I'm pretty happy with it. But something wrong.

The eyes.

No matter how I draw them, they're never right. Too wide, too slim, too happy; surprised? No, it's all wrong! They need to be... taunting. Yeah, taunting.

"Is bocchan all right? He has not eaten all day... are you ill?" Sebastian's voice drifts through my closed door.

I force a laugh and say, "I'm fine! Fine... just a little distracted, that's all..."

I bite my lip thoughtfully as I finish of the eyes. They look... Perfect!

I smile, and then giggle, and before I know what's happening I'm laughing hysterically. Sebastian bursts through the door, a concerned look on his face, and then he gives me a worried smile and walks over to me.

"You seem happy, bocchan!" He chuckles, smiling at me.

"Oh my gosh, I'm done... Ahhh..." I giggle, and then my stomach gives off a loud groan.

"Does Bocchan want his dinner?" Sebastian asks.

I slip back into my normal English aristocrat performance and state, "Yes bring it immediately, I'm starving."

"And whose fault is that?"

"The picture's." I say.

Sebastian seems confused for a second, and then his eyes slip down to my drawing that I just completed. He gasps.

"Oh my, Bocchan. This one is quite amazing!" He says, in a complimenting tone. "But does a mere butler like me deserved to be portrayed so beautifully as this?"

I stare into his eyes warmly, and then reply with, "Yes, of course. You're one hell of a butler, after all."

Sebastian smiles back at me, and then walks out of the room silently to prepare dinner. I stretch out my aching limbs and pick up the picture, walking through the mansion to Sebastian's sleeping quarters. He doesn't need to sleep, but it's complementary for a butler to have his own room in a mansion as big as the Phantomhive residence. I slip the drawing onto his bedside table, and then walk out again.

I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture.