Summary: Elizabeth is humble in her love.
Elizabeth → Ciel, Sebastian/Ciel
Currently un-betaed. x) I wrote this on a whim, I actually had no intention of posting it. But then I thought, ahh, what the hell. xD
Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji © Yana Toboso, Title © A-ha


He's beautiful, he really is breathtakingly beautiful; he's always been a magnet for female attention, even men give him lustful looks, more frequently now that he's older. Oh, Elizabeth notices – she isn't stupid, or an airhead, despite her boisterous behaviour. She notices all her competition and she delights in Ciel's lack of interest in them. She savours all the smiles he awards her, even those that never reach his lips; those tender looks he displays, just for her. Being his fiancée, she fancies herself different from others, seated in a throne unreachable for ordinary people, for she alone has a special place beside Ciel, her Ciel. She has never perceived herself to be arrogant, though she indulges in it occasionally – for with Ciel, it's different.

Sebastian slides past him and the fork clatters as it meets the plate. Ciel looks flustered when the butler asks him if there is something wrong, a very slight teasing edge to his worry. Did I startle you, Master? My, you are very sensitive to touch, aren't you? Elizabeth laughs and continues eating her cake, resumes her talk about the new shops in London.

She remembers him before he changed, a glowing, cheerful boy who women cooed at in the streets. It happens that she spots glimpses of him, that other Ciel she once knew, in the Ciel that he is now. He's becoming more defined, growing into himself, learning how to skilfully shield his thoughts from unwanted visitors. At times she finds herself wishing for him to open, to revert back to the old Ciel, to allow her in – but she knows it's too demanding, she doesn't want to trouble him with her wants and desires while discarding his personal boundaries. She will stand by his side, she will offer her support – for he is hers, and that is the greatest gift imaginable.

But she cannot ignore that pecking voice inside of her, that voice which cautions her, pointing out potential dangers. That look he gave Sebastian, surely it meant nothing ... those touches, those words, they were dry and meaningless, weren't they? She feels her throat swell and her emotions tumble over, filling a black pool inside her stomach; no, don't cling, don't go too far, take a step back... Yet, every so often, she must restrain herself from flinging Ciel back and demanding that he looks at her.

Fear hunts her down at night, but dissipates as soon as he is in her company. He is irritable at her childish enthusiasm for dresses and pretty things and ignores her begging for a new hat. She laughs at his grumpiness while he fumes and sips at his tea, and when he gives in to a smile her heart grows two sizes bigger and she wonders what on earth she was so worried about.

People keep looking at him but usually stay at a respectable distance; Sebastian's lips curl upwards when she starts coaxing for Ciel's attention, making the blush flare in her cheeks, though Ciel remains unaware of his admirers. She is comforted by Sebastian's support, who encourages them to take a dance, eyeing Ciel sternly when he makes an opposing face. Really, she's so silly, how could she have imagined anything between them...

She will stand by Ciel's side, she will discard the ache in her chest and appreciate whatever Ciel can give her, however little, however much.

And even when she catches him pressed up against the wall, hair slick with sweat and legs spread wide, with Sebastian over him and murmuring sweetly into his ear in a way she's never seen him do before – even then she is willing to ignore the burn in her chest. But she remembers how the butler looked at her afterwards; not with compassion, not even with a hint of embarrassment – no, there was a twinkle in his eyes that spelled amusement, curiosity flickering by almost too fast to notice. But he's mine, she wants to scream. Sebastian smiles pleasantly at her and Elizabeth feels cold all over.

She will stand by Ciel's side, she will not demand his love – she wants him to give it to her freely. Knuckles turn white as they clutch the dress; her image is distorted in the shattered pieces of mirror.