Bliss

The devil leans in slowly, and Ciel feels his eyelids grow heavy. They flutter for a moment, lower and remain only half open as the devil raises his soft, white (marked) hand and caresses Ciel's cheek in the way only a lover could, gently and lovingly. They are quiet now, their usual banter and exchange of orders remain (mostly) in the past, in a time of life and vitality. Ciel can't deny that that is what his so recent past was; it may not have been happy, but it was vivid, unforgettable and almost too fast.

The truth of the matter is that Ciel doesn't want to die. He may not have anything left to live for (except for Lizzy, dear, sweet Lizzy) but there is something about life and living that humans like, despite all the pain and hardships. They cling to their life so hard, grasping vainly at it to remain alive for as long as possible (but for what? Only more pain). In this manner, Ciel is no different from anyone else, if he was ever different at all.

He is certain that the devil knows this about him. There is very little that this scion of Hell doesn't know about Ciel. And Ciel wonders, briefly, if the devil loves him for it. The devil is a nearly unfathomable creature, and Ciel would never claim to understand him (in his entirety). But the devil seems more human than human's, sometimes, and Ciel wonders. Maybe it's blasphemy to think this way, but Ciel has long since lost his fear of (any) divine punishment.

And at this stage, the devil would never dream of punishing him.

The devil smiles and whispers something melodic into Ciel's ear—he thinks that it is Latin, but he's so far gone now that he can't quite be sure. But it sounds sweet and comforting, the last sweet and comforting thing Ciel will ever hear. He's barred entrance into Heaven and denied entrance into Hell; whatever happens to him now is in the devil's hand. Perhaps these words are a last farewell to his Master in his last hour, or maybe they're the beginning of a ritual death (that should have taken place so long ago).

Ciel likes to think that it's the former.

The devil doesn't explain the meaning of the words to him, doesn't say anything at all. There is only the sound of their breathing—Ciel's is surprisingly calm and the devil's is nearly inaudible. Ciel knows better than to break this silence, though, so he doesn't ask. Instead he waits, sitting patiently on the bench, feeling the cool stone under his fingers and against his legs. He thinks the stone should be rough and weathered to the touch, a symbol of where they are and what has become of him but it is not and perhaps that's only right; this devil is soft and cool as a length of fine, black silk, and nothing about him is rough or weathered (so far as Ciel has seen).

His hand reaches up again and strokes Ciel's face lightly, his fingers barely touching his skin, and Ciel feels his eye patch loosen and fall off, making a soft plop on the ground. The devil's hand travels around his face still, as if he is taking in every detail of it and committing it to memory for when Ciel is no more. And now he lets his eyes fall closed for a moment, in preparation for what is to come (whatever that might be). The time is at hand now, inescapable and inevitable, and Ciel is finding it hard to accept that. He doesn't want to die.

The devil whispers something again, and Ciel opens his eyes at the sound of his soft, seductive voice. His sky-coloured eyes meet the devils's and are held by an invisible force, a bond of sorts. Ciel can see his reflection in the devil's glowing red irises, and he can see his stoic mask of readiness reflected in the devil's gaze. His heart is pounding in his chest, singing for the devil alone to hear. No time, no time, not anymore, nevermore. But Ciel knew this would happen, of course; he's not an idiot, not naive in the slightest. He knew upon accepting the Contract that this was how it would end.

There are no surprises.

He makes only one last request as Master to servant. Make it hurt.

And of course the devil—his devil—kneels in mock submission in front of him, his head bowed down and a wide smile playing upon his lips. His dark hair shades his face, obscuring his eyes from Ciel's piercing cold gaze but Ciel does not need to see them to know what the devil is thinking as he kneels in front of Ciel for the last time. He will carry out his final order more perfectly than had carried out any other order Ciel ever gave him.

And thus, Sebastian leans in slowly, seductively and opens his mouth, as if ready to claim a kiss from his lover, a kiss that will make Ciel his to the very core. Ciel does not fear death though he does not want it, and so when Sebastian's lips rest on his, Ciel feels his insides going cold and his eyes closing for the last time, and he knows that he has made the right choice.

He smiles a little into the kiss as Sebastian latches onto his soul and begins Ciel's death.


Author's Note: Obviously, this is the anime-verse, since I have not yet started the manga (I want to wait until I finish school so I can sit and read it through steady :3). I was somewhat unsatisfied with the last episode, but I love how it was done at the same time, so I decided to try and explore the dynamics of the situation. I don't imagine Ciel really wanted to die, even though he chose to do so to complete his Contract. And I don't think Sebastian would have let him live, either, much as I would love that to be the case.

Also, this is my first Kuroshitsuji fanfic, so I hope it's not too bad or anything! I love this fandom so much that I hope to write more in the future!