"I don't know what's going on, but there's one thing I'm absolutely certain of: Sebastian Michaelis is not human, and I have no clue of what his intention are or what he's capable of doing. "
♞
Bleak.
That, she determined, had become the word to sum...
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♞
Sebastian left after the comment, and I took it as a victory. I didn't feel like getting up to find a new book, so I begrudgingly cracked open Romeo and Juliet for the first time since tenth grade. The book seemed to drag on, and I couldn't force myself to read any more past the fifth scene of act two with my attention span which seemed to grow smaller the more I read. After staring blankly at the page for ages, I put the book down and made myself comfortable on the sofa.
Having nothing better to do with myself, I curl into myself and doze off underneath the warm sunlight coming from the window above me. My nap is interrupted sometime later by Sebastian, who holds the copy of Romeo and Juliet in his hands with a smirk.
"I thought you 'actually really liked' Romeo and Juliet, kitten?" he chimes.
"You know, Sebastian, I've read that book so many times I could recite it in my sleep," I reply, brushing his comment off.
Another smirk crosses Sebastian's features as he says, "If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this, My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."
I should've known what Juliet says after this since it was the last full page I read and actually paid attention to, but I can't rack my mind for a clue as to what the next line is.
"Um," I mumble as the bare minimum of lines slowly come to me, "Good pilgrim, you do wrong with . . . with your, uh, with your hand too much, Which . . . Which . . ."
I internalize the glimmer of satisfaction in Sebastian's beady eyes once I run out of ideas.
"Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do not touch, And palm to palm is is holy palmer's kiss, kitten," he finishes, very clearly pleased with my idiocy.
"Grelle would be proud," I huff. I'm disappointed when his eyebrow doesn't twitch at my remark. He leaves me to put the book back where he got it then comes back to me.
"I've come to dress you for dinner," he says once back, and I'm still pissed off at myself for that shitshow. "The young master wishes to dine with you and discuss some of our findings in regards to the case."
I stop myself from shuddering when I remember that night and instead ask, "Isn't it kind of weird for a maid to eat dinner with the master of the house?"
"It is not of normal custom for a scullery maid to dine with the master," he admits. "However, since your very safety was under threat while going undercover for him, the young master wishes to have an apologetic word with you and feels it is not inappropriate for you to dine with him given the circumstances."
"Right," I mumble, looking towards the wood floors. I go to grab my crutches, but Sebastian stops me.
"I think we've finished playing games," he says. "Don't you agree, kitten?"
