Perfect Matches - A Black Butler (Weston College) Love Story

Chantel Leclair

Chantel was a fun person. She was carefree, dauntless, funny, so many things. She thought of herself as many things, too. But there was one word that had never crossed her mind once.

Pretty.

There were several synonyms for that word. Beautiful, cute, charming, elegant, good-looking, and even foxy. 

And yet no form of pretty ever crossed her mind. Until her encounter with Cheslock. 

The first day that the girls had arrived at Weston, Chantel had been told to lead the rest of the Lavender Larkspur house members. She was to follow Cheslock. So that's what she had done. The girls followed her and Cheslock to their rooms. They immediately walked inside and shut their doors. This had made Chantel laugh. Then she noticed something strange.

She felt eyes. Cheslock's eyes. On her.

Chantel had turned to him with a confused look. "You got something to say, just say it," she said boldly. Cheslock only responded with a chuckle.

"Woah. Pretty and bold," Cheslock said with a smirk. Chantel couldn't tell if he was being honest or sarcastic. 

"I don't know how to respond to that, so I'm just going to glare at you." That's exactly what she'd done.

Cheslock let out a laugh. "Bloody hell. I like you already!" That was all he had said before turning to leave so that Chantel could settle in. 

Changed felt a smile make its way to her features. Then she realized that she didn't know his name, and he didn't know hers.

"Wait!" Chantel called while running after Cheslock. He was almost to his dorm room when Chantel caught up with him. He turned around and waited for her to say something.

"Hey, you. You with the face." Cheslock smiled. "What's yer name?" Chantel managed to force out while gasping for air. 

"Cheslock." Chantel looked up, still out of breath. Then she gave her name.

"I'm Chantel. Chantel Leclair." She wasn't panting anymore, but her legs hurt slightly. 

'Wow, this is sad,' she thought, 'that I can't even run for thirty bloody seconds.'

Chantel was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't see Cheslock smirking at her with a slight blush. Chantel looked up after a while, then looked back at Cheslock.

"Well, I best be unpacking. Nice meeting you," Chantel turned around and walked away, deciding that she didn't want to run again.

When Chantel was in her room, she threw her bag in her soft new mattress and started unpacking. She put the white shirts on hangers and hung them on the closet's rod. She folded her undergarments and put them away on a small shelf. Chantel took her skirts and added them to hangers, then tucked her boots into a corner of the closet. 'Nice.'

Chantel had some time before she had to get ready and head to the dinner hall, so she planted herself on the new bed. She immediately relaxed on the cotton sheets. Then something caught her eye.

A mirror.

She got up from her bed and walked over to the mirror in her bathroom. She took in the sight before her. Her face. Then she thought about what Cheslock had said earlier.

'Pretty and bold . . .'

Chantel watched as her brow furrowed in confusion, Cheslock's words replaying in her head. She moved closer to the mirror and looked at her hair. Short. Black roots, the only indicator of her natural hair color. The rest was dyed lavender.