『 R E Q U E S T S , C L O S E D 』AnimeCharacters x Reader

44. Ciel Phantomhive x Reader | I'll Make You An Offer

》characters: Ciel Phantomhive | Black Butler

》requested by: ItIsKitty

》06282017

》wherein ciel doesn't really choose who he introduces himself to, but the ballgowns that caress his knees like a wrongly-written prelude to closer holds are something he never thinks he'll overlook.

[a/n]: holy fuck this was...disappointing, to the requester: if you want me to spin up another fic that's (hopefully *^*) better than this one, don't be afraid to tell me! 

xx

Take somebody by the hand, whether you've seen a face as pretty as theirs before or not, do not comment on the strand of hair that dictates its own life down across the middle of their forehead but do twirl them once, twice, enough that they remember you as a mischievous one that sought for more than to feel the press of knuckles at the back of a hand. Or, maybe, smile at them like you've told them a secret: your name, in full, for a name is the first thing you're given and the last thing left even after the people that still remember shed their names, too, for something lighter. Pull them closer, neglect the gap of the unknown.

Then, you let them go, of course.

There's not enough time to look them goodbye, because they're swept in the arms of another. Compare, if you're the lucky one with time and no knowledge of what to do with it, believe you're more deserving for a second that nobody else counts with you. Then, take another into your arms. Try to charm them, so when the orchestra tires as the drinks strengthen and an empire of champagne and indulged whims begins a formation, you would have the company of something more than just a glass that leaves your fingertips numb and your thoughts number.

These kinds of things were supported by strange ideals; chance, luck, true love- all kinds of things people place their faiths into, like a basin in the rain, only remembered when it's infested with larva.

Ciel has been taught these things repetitively, as if the first time he takes a stranger by the hand isn't mighty enough to stand alongside other things he likes to reflect on when he's not as busy.

His spine is full with everything he's learned, from himself and other people that look down at him from their noses like he was a disease. Ciel stands straight, greets people with smiles and the formalities he's reiterated enough it sticks to him like skin, or the ghosts of before. His neck hurts from tilting up so much, pretending not to hear what they say behind his back after they think they're far enough, and he's also quite tired of deflecting Sebastian's jests that would have any other servant jobless quicker than Ciel can bring himself to smile.

"I believe that they were the last of them, my lord," Sebastian informs him, and Ciel turns to the pair of a slender, tall man with the open eyes of a child and a round woman with lips that looked like the fruits kept on display bowls in Ciel's dining area.

"Excellent," Ciel walks away faster than Sebastian does, to another trap of smiles he doesn't really mean, and words he's memorized but doesn't really think about.

xx

"Hello," Ciel's in the company of a girl, his age, that blushes even when she's not being spoken to and holds her arms like she carries the burden of a life in them. He speaks to her in the slip of minutes that allow Ciel a breath of freedom that he swallows with a greed he knows he has.

"H-hello," she replies. Her voice is as quiet as Ciel expected. 

"I've brought quite a popular band here today, what kind of music do you enjoy?"

"Eh, uh, anything. Anything is okay," she stutters, something that society tries to erase time and time again, but it's an indelible mark, a forever Ciel wishes some other things would take after, get inspired by. Beside them, more people are roped into conversations Ciel could only imagine to be boring. The crowds part for him like he's a miracle with the ring he favors, with the posture more appropriate for one taller than he; the crowd route the conversation into what they think pleases Ciel's ears, when what truly pleases him is a hum only he hears when the afternoon relaxes into its quietest, as if they were errors spawned from a single origin and Ciel was the purity expected to be modeled after.

She's refreshing, reminds Ciel of things he so often forgets; a list-long, really. This is probably the first time Ciel smiles honestly, and she's the endangered sun beam in an infection of clouds angry with rain.

"Would you care to dance with me?" Ciel takes her hand, delighting in the way she peeps in alarm, kisses a fingertip like it was a trophy she could carry until she grows deaf from oldness. The blush is realer, redder than the crass poked onto her lips and Ciel wonders just how many faces he can get her to make, get himself to remember after two hours and drinks he forces himself to savor.

"Don't you dare try anything," she warns him with a frown turn to her lips. She walks carefully in her dress, probably afraid to embarrass herself in a room of people old and immature enough to believe they could place judgment in their human, material desires. He hears her footsteps like an instrument, hears his heart beat begin to pick up.

It's a thrill, it's a joy when it isn't boring. Ciel winks at her, and he doesn't care if she looks at him the wrong way even after he performs his most sincere twirl yet, the kind that leaves the ruffles of the gown fluttering in a rhythm a bit too late, as if licking another moment from the glacier of ions would make it all the more monumental.

Ciel learns, in quite a shock, that she's swifter on her toes than she appears to be.

(And he's maybe embarrassed himself, just a little bit.)