Devil's Trill
By: Neko-chan

Disclaimer: I? Do not own Kuroshitsuji (aka: Black Butler). No suing would be greatly appreciated~

Introduction: (SebastianxCiel) Ciel has nightmares.

Author's Note: First time writing for this series. Hopefully the ficlet-drabble will be well received. Enjoy!

Devil's Trill

The darkness settled through the room, slipping from shadow to shadow as the clock struck midnight; the world became painted in shades of gray, silver edging away harsh edges and blurring everything into dreamscape. As the twelfth ring finally faded away into silence, Ciel's lashes lifted and he stared up at the canopy of his bed.

Twelve rings from the grandfather clock; twelve days that he had been awoken at the cusp of midnight with the moon pregnant and glowing through the chilled glass of his bedroom window. Twelve--perhaps Ciel should take it as a sign.

Instead, the boy snorted softly and rolled onto his side to settle back into bed, both wanting to close his eyes and afraid to do so, knowing that once his lashes lowered he would once more be drawn into the world that was filled with fear and fire. He stirred slightly, shifting on the bed and glancing towards the corner of his room that was closest to the door.

There were eyes that watched him.

Frowning at that, Ciel moved so that he could prop himself on an elbow, sitting up in bed as he met a gaze that sifted through the various shades of ruby. "What are you doing here?" the young count asked, voice both disdainful and irritated as he gestured towards the shadow that was darker than all the rest.

There was a gleam then, a flash of white in the midnight darkness. "I would not be a Phantomhive butler if I wasn't able to anticipate all of my young master's needs," Sebastian murmured in answer. He stepped out to come before the window, letting the moonlight highlight the sharp edges of his features--and the cruel curl of his lips. The demon came closer then, movements as elegant and as contained as always; even when fighting, Sebastian looked his best--after all, a servant's appearance always reflected back upon his master.

The butler placed a platter on the table next to Ciel's bed, reaching up afterwards to settle the bedcovers over the boy once again. As if from a distance, the young count could smell the slightly sour scent of warmed milk. His nose wrinkled in distaste and he pushed down the covers from where Sebastian had pulled them up.

"How did you know that I would be awake?" the boy inquired--the deep blue of his left eye lay in shadow and his right glowed faintly, the pentagram flickering in his gaze before Ciel turned his head to the side, looking away from the demon who was bound to him (or, as he sometimes wondered on nights such as these, that he was bound to).

"I am always able to anticipate your needs," Sebastian replied and, perhaps, his smile darkened for just a moment. Ciel frowned at that, eyebrows lowering in irritation as the butler once again pulled the bedcovers up.

As Sebastian reached once more for the sheets, Ciel slapped his hand away. "Enough; I am not a child who needs to be tucked into bed or comforted in the middle of the night with a mug of warm milk. Leave me," the count snapped, looking away as he resettled himself against the pillows, putting his back to the butler. The boy's fingers curled tightly into fists and he scowled, telling himself that it was anger at Sebastian's actions that caused his reaction--and not the aching sense of loss that settled beneath his breastbone.

Once upon a time ago, it wasn't a demon who tucked Ciel into bed, who came to him in the middle of the night.

Sebastian's smile deepened further for a moment before easing away into oblivion. "As my young master wishes, so I obey," the butler murmured lightly, bowing slightly from the waist before reaching for the tray and the mug placed upon it. "Though, I would advise that you still take the drink. There's a tonic added that will help with the nightmares, my lord."

Ciel stilled at those words, fingers curling tighter before he finally looked over his shoulder to stare at the other. "What do you know of nightmares?"

The smile returned. In an almost idle gesture, the demon lifted a finger to his lips as his eyes glowed softly from within the darkness that shrouded him. "Ah. I know much of nightmares, young master. 'From the bottom stir the Hell within him, for within him Hell he brings, and round about him, nor from Hell one step no more than from himself can fly by change of place: now conscience wakes despair that slumbered, wakes the bitter memory of what he was, what is, and what must be worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.'"

"Don't quote Milton to me," Ciel muttered when silence once more filled the room. There was a brief flash of the child that he used to be, and the boy burrowed further beneath the covers. "You remember full well that I hated reading him in lessons."

"As you wish," came the amused reply. Ciel closed his eyes for a moment, listening for the quiet sound of footsteps moving across the room and to his bedroom's door. It was only until he realized that he couldn't hear those soft sounds that the boy relaxed completely. Before he fell asleep once more, Ciel felt--faintly, distantly, as if from a dream--hands smooth over his cheeks before once more settling the covers around the boy. "Good night, my lord."

A memory, stirring and twining through the hours--marching ever onwards towards dawn and the light of a new day--as the young count slept quietly without the mar of nightmares: Unlike humans, I do not lie; until the very end, I will remain at your side, my lord.

Ciel slept and dreamed, knowing that, from that same corner of his room, a pair of dark, red eyes watched him with a timeless, enigmatic gaze.