"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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♞
I make sure to take my sweet time on my trip downstairs to the kitchen, further slowing my pace the closer I get to the hellhole. Once I get enough balls to rip the bandaid off, I slink into the kitchen expecting to see Sebastian making Ciel's breakfast only to find he's not even in the room.
My stomach growls, so I head over to the breadbox to make myself some toast while I'm still able to do so without interruptions in the form of an unfairly attractive prick. Ten tranquil minutes go by after I've eaten, and Sebastian is still nowhere to be found, making me slightly on edge after being alone for so long. I still can't figure out if it's a good or bad feeling to be left by myself at this time of day; it's strange nonetheless.
I can finally hear my thoughts, and I'm reluctant to admit that I'm slightly scared of that; in all honesty, I've not had much time to process things between sleeping when I was recuperating then throwing myself into working when I was cleared and constantly dealing with Sebastian's nonsense at any other time. I don't think that's healthy or will end well in the slightest, but at the same time I don't even want to bring it up to myself again. Thankfully, the time I've had has given my body a chance to catch up to me, and I find myself starting to nod off at the kitchen table rather than wallowing in the mass of thoughts and probably post traumatic stress just waiting to be triggered.
I was initially planning to just rest my eyes and ignore my aching muscles to the best of my ability in this rare moment of peace, but I'm passed out before I can even realize it. However, all that peace ends the moment I'm woken up with a start to a unfortunately familiar voice musing, "Goodness, kitten, you can't be all tired out before the day has truly begun."
"Shit, don't fucking do that!" I drowsily slur, glaring at the devil who's standing over me with his hands folded behind his back and an amused glimmer in his eye. He chuckles at the sight of me, and I deliriously curse him under my breath as I slowly push myself up from the table, hoping I don't give myself head rush.
"I hope you've rested well while I was occupied," he says. "We've a busy day ahead of us; you mustn't be sleeping when there's work to do. Goodness, it's as if you didn't sleep a wink last night."
I poke the lining of my cheek with my tongue and don't refrain from giving him the finger. "Maybe if you'd left me alone last night I would've slept, asshole."
"We must get to work on the young master's breakfast," he says, only smirking at my crude gesture. "This morning, we will prepare stuffed french toast with strawberries and pu'erh tea. I need you to gather the eggs and a loaf of brioche bread from the breadbox then get started on the tea."
"I need to make what-now tea?" I ask, trying to decipher what he'd just said while my mind that's not quite cleared making it even harder to do so.
"Pu'erh tea, kitten, is a type of post-fermented black tea native to the Yunnan province of China made from leaves of the Dayeh tree," he explains, and I dread the spill he's about to go on. "It differs from other teas such as Earl grey or oolong because it is often packed into bricks or cakes for brewing which causes it to age similarly to wine and the provides a unique flavor profile. We happen to have a pu'erh cake in the cupboard next to the Assam."
