In This Hell ( V i o l e t ) [Kuroshitsuji 2] {Completed}

Chapter XIII : A Shinigami

And these words, they're changing nothing.

I do not think Violet knew that I was outside his door.

If he did, it would be safe to assume that he wouldn't have said all of the things that he said. He probably would have thought that they would hurt my feelings. The other man that was with him - I had seen him before. He was definitely familiar. Quite tall and incredibly polished; long, blond hair gracing either side of his face and framing it beautifully. He had dark red eyes that reminded me of my brother's.

He smiled a lot. A pleasant smile; not one of happiness, but content. He wasn't under any particular stress, it seemed; not like Violet who was a sorry sight. They were both dressed similarly, like noblemen. Underneath their heavy patterned coats they wore identical white shirts, tight against their skin from their fitted silk waistjackets. While Violet wore his hood drawn up over his head the blond man let his hair flow freely down his back.

I watched them from the shadows as they entered our room, Violet murmuring something while the man followed behind him. The tail end of his coat swept behind the door and he slammed it shut.

I felt curious. I hadn't much experienced curiosity before. Not even when Violet had brought the last woman, Catherine, back home. I didn't ask about Bree and I didn't ask about her. I knew that Violet didn't like questions. They upset him.

He cried even more now, after he'd killed the two women. Every night, before we slept, he'd wrap his arms around my waist and press his face between my shoulder blades, allowing himself a moment to become undone in the misery that now seemed to soak him. I remembered snatches from who I was before - Stoic Violet, Grumpy Violet, Concentrated Violet, Happy Violet. And all I seemed to see these days was Sad Violet. I knew that his smile was a rare event to witness before but I usually managed to pull it from him once or twice a day. And now he never smiled, not even at me.

When the door shut behind them, I padded forward. Maybe I might hear something that would help me make Violet happy again. I definitely knew the blond man from somewhere. Would he mentioned something that might give me a clue as to what Violet wanted from me?

"My old friend, let me say this in the kindest possible way." There was a squeak of springs as the blond sat down on the bed. "You have really, really, really thrown yourself into the deep end."

"She was easy to love, Edgar," Violet said in a quiet voice.

Edgar, that was his name?

"Even so, you knew what fate awaited her. Couldn't you have possibly exercised some form of self control? Good God, man, you took her to bed."

"That was completely consensual. And it was while she was alive."

"Damn it, Violet. Trust you out of all people to fall in love with the only girl that you can't have." Edgar gave a long-suffering sigh. "Do you wish to explain? I know you're not one to normally vent, but look at you. You're a shell."

"Thank you, Edgar. So understanding and kind, as you always were."

"Do not be sarcastic, you were the one who contacted me for help."

Someone took in a deep, shuddering breath. The person was so slim, it almost sounded as if their whole ribcage was rattling. "We met at Weston. Had a brief conversation in the guest house. I missed dinner. I was with Undertaker. And when I returned she followed me to the kitchen, obviously suspecting that something was amiss."

For some reason, that was a sharp memory in my mind. My fists clenched involuntarily in my lap as I remembered the aching desire of wanting to taste cool vanilla from his lips.