Forceful

Good Enough is Neither Good nor Enough - Chapter 6

It was a Saturday, and for Ciel Fâcheux, that meant that he had to be stuck in a stuffy office for the entire day, signing and scrawling repetitive paperwork regarding his Clan. From the moment his alarm rang and his peaceful slumber was disturbed, he was in a bad mood. 

Ciel having any other emotion other than 'Okay' was rare and it seemed that Clan Duties always brought out negative emotions from him. 

The blue silk glided against his golden-brown skin and the bright Sun shone in his eyes with her full might. His sister, ever the punctual hard ass had woken him up at 7 in the morning, which according to her was 'letting him sleep in'. 

'Sleeping in' my ass, thought Ciel.

He didn't want to get up, he never did in the mornings regardless of whether it was a school day or weekend because he knew that no matter what, he would no longer be allowed to be as tranquil and at peace as he usually was when he was dreaming. His dreams comforted him even when his reality didn't and he was grateful for that. He found solace in their hazy yet bright imagery and circumstances.

Despite it being years since this routine started, Ciel had made it his life's purpose to throw a tantrum every time she attempted to wake him. He would screech and thrash in his bed as if it would deter the stubborn workaholic that was his sister Camille. She would wait, standing, by his bed and would ask every other second if he was done with his childish behaviour. It would most times encourage Ciel more. 

Eventually, like all other times, he would lose the forenoon fight and get ready to begin his long day, and today was no different.

Ciel pushed his comforter away from his now cold body and grabbed his phone to check his social media and emails while getting up to go to the bathroom. To make sure his day started off with a little bit of positivity, he played music from his favourite playlist. His sister, Camille, had left the room once she sensed he was going to get up. From years of waking him up, she had developed a sixth sense of sorts.

The music played in the background, mixed with the sound of water hitting the tiled floor as Ciel showered. Ciel hated the thought of showers, but once he got in, it was difficult to get out. The dangerously hot water moistened his mirrors but it alleviated the tenseness in his body's muscles after hours upon hours of immobility.

Everyone talked about how when people are in the shower, they have conversations and concerts and let their thoughts loose, but for Ciel, for whatever reason, showers were completely silent and his mind was completely tranquil and still. It felt better that way, in his opinion.

After his shower, he smothered his skin in oils and lotions for he cared for his skin far too much to leave it dry after such an aggressively hot shower. He looked at himself in the mirror to just admire and scrutinize his features, his lips, his hair, his shoulders, and literally everything else. It was one of the only times he fully allowed himself to look at his body.

By the time he got out of the bathroom, it was almost 9 AM. As I said, once he was in, it was difficult to get out. As he stepped out, a lady held clothes in her hand and knowing he had little control over his wardrobe, he grabbed them out of her hands forcefully despite knowing she was just doing her job. 

Every weekend when he had to do Clan work or meet someone, his sister would step in and assign him clothes to make sure he didn't embarrass them. At least, that's what she said.

The top was white and more formal than Ciel wore, and that was saying something as Ciel's sense of style was pretty formal. The sleeves were big and spacious and the cuffs custom-fitted to his wrists. He moved his arms around to test them and looked into the mirror again. He looked like a fucking pirate.