strawberrygirll13

[strawberrygirll13]

This so frickin good 😭

I’m a Bit of a Outsider

Sebastian x reader

Part 2

Heres part 1

A black butler fanfiction

As Sebastian made his way back to the Phantomhive estate, an unfamiliar sensation gnawed at him—anxiety. The very concept of such a feeling was foreign, alien. Yet, here it was, clawing at his thoughts like an insidious parasite. He frowned deeply, his usually composed demeanor cracking as he wrestled with the weight of it.

His mind drifted back to her—to her. She thought he was beautiful, didn’t she? Her gaze when she looked at him, the warmth in her touch, the way she giggled at his antics—it all pointed to her finding him alluring. But what did she truly know? What she adored wasn’t him. It was this façade, this crafted image he projected. She had no idea what lay beneath it all—his true form, the monstrous reality of what he was. Would she still smile at him, blush around him, kiss his cheek, if she saw him as he truly was? The thought twisted inside him like a knife.

“No,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as though to dislodge the thoughts. “I don’t like her. I don’t.” But even as he said it, the words rang hollow. He gritted his teeth. Ridiculous. Preposterous. He was centuries old—a demon forged in the fires of chaos and sin. He had seen kings rise and fall, cities burn, and civilizations crumble. And now he was losing his composure over a woman he had met twice? What kind of madness was this?

He scowled, his irritation bubbling to the surface as he clawed for logic. What was she? A witch? A sorceress? Perhaps some kind of cursed vessel? What else could explain this unnatural hold she had over him? It was as though she had infected him, seeped into his very being, unraveling him from the inside out.

But no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, one undeniable truth remained, echoing in the recesses of his mind: I do like her. I do.

Once Sebastian returned to the Phantomhive estate, he retreated to his quarters, the silence of the room doing little to quiet his tumultuous thoughts. He paced slowly, his gloved hands clasped behind his back, the picture of composure on the outside, but inside, he was anything but composed.

"I don’t want her," he muttered to himself, his deep voice low but firm, as though saying it aloud might solidify it as truth. Yet, even as the words left his lips, they felt hollow. His crimson gaze flickered with frustration. Did he want her? No. Surely not. He wanted to possess her, perhaps? Understand her? But why? He had never cared to understand anyone before—not beyond what was necessary to manipulate or exploit them.

Sebastian stopped, leaning against the edge of his desk. His fingers lightly drummed against the wood as his mind churned. In all his centuries of existence, he had never viewed a human in this light. Humans were tools, prey, creatures to be used and discarded when their purpose was fulfilled. He admired beauty, yes—he could appreciate a finely crafted sculpture, a delicate flower, or even the aesthetic of a beautiful woman. But it was a detached admiration, like admiring the elegance of a flame before snuffing it out. Never had he longed to be gentle. Never had he offered his assistance or company without calculating what he might gain in return. Until tonight.

He could feel it—a tightening in his chest, a churning in his stomach that he despised with every fiber of his being. He hated it. He hated how her laughter echoed in his ears, how the memory of her hand in his lingered like a ghostly warmth. Most of all, he hated how the thought of never seeing her again made him feel far sicker than the shame of these new, foreign emotions.

Sebastian let out a quiet, frustrated sigh, running a hand through his midnight-black hair. Despite his protests, despite the war raging inside him, one thing was certain: no matter how pathetic it made him feel, he would see her again. He would accompany her home, offer his presence, even if it meant enduring these maddening feelings. Because as much as he detested this weakness she unearthed in him, the idea of not seeing her again was far worse.

"Pathetic," he whispered to himself, his lips curling into a rueful smile. But even as he thought it, he knew—there was no stopping this. Not now. Not ever.

Sebastian sat in the quiet solitude of his quarters, trying to focus on anything else—on his duties, on tomorrow's tasks, on Ciel's endless demands. Yet, despite his meticulous control, his mind betrayed him. Thoughts of her crept in, unbidden and relentless. The sound of her voice, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke, the warmth of her hand in his—he couldn't escape it.

He rarely needed sleep, though he could indulge in it when he chose. Tonight, however, it eluded him completely. The restless energy in his chest was unbearable. He rose silently, his movements fluid and deliberate as he adjusted his gloves and made his way out of the estate. The moon hung high in the sky, bathing the world in a silver glow as he walked through the stillness of the night.

Before he even realized it, his steps had led him back to her estate. He stood outside her home, the quiet hum of her world surrounding him. The curtains were drawn, the lights extinguished; she was undoubtedly asleep. And he wouldn’t disturb her—not tonight.

He simply stood there, his sharp crimson eyes scanning the exterior of her home, noting every detail. He wanted to see where she came home to every night, where she spent her time. It was an intimate act, though one she would never know of. The soft scent of her garden lingered in the air, the faint chirping of crickets adding to the tranquility.

Sebastian leaned against the wrought iron fence that surrounded her estate, his gaze fixed on her window. It was ridiculous, he thought, to be here like this, indulging in something so utterly human as yearning. But he couldn't pull himself away.

"Pathetic," he whispered again to himself, though the word lacked its usual venom. For once, he allowed himself the indulgence of simply being there, even if it was from a distance. He would leave before the sun rose, before anyone could see. But for now, he stayed, the quiet ache in his chest both torturous and strangely comforting.

Sebastian stood motionless in the shadows, hidden by the dense foliage surrounding the estate. His crimson eyes, glowing faintly in the darkness, were fixed on the window where the candlelight flickered softly. The silhouette of her form moved gracefully across the room, her hair cascading down her back in loose waves. She was dressed in a simple nightgown, her delicate figure illuminated by the warm glow.

The sight caught him off guard. She was dancing. Slowly, as if lost in a trance. Her movements were fluid, elegant, and for a moment, he couldn't tear his gaze away. It wasn’t a casual sway; she was waltzing, spinning with the grace of a dancer. But what intrigued him more was the absence of a partner. Her arms were outstretched as if guiding an invisible presence, twirling, dipping, and laughing in the solitude of her room.

A pang of something twisted in his chest—something he couldn’t name, but it ached, deeply. She moved as if she were dancing with someone, and for a fleeting moment, Sebastian allowed himself to imagine that she might be pretending it was him. Hoping it was him.

The thought made him feel vulnerable, something he was rarely, if ever, accustomed to. His rational mind, the one that dissected and calculated every move with surgical precision, told him to leave—to distance himself from this foolishness. But instead, he lingered, his breath held as he observed her every movement. The way her feet floated lightly above the floor, the way her body swayed with a rhythm only she seemed to understand. He was entranced, a prisoner of her grace.

He clenched his fists by his sides, annoyed with himself. Why did he care? She was just a human—a fragile, beautiful creature. He was a demon, not meant for this kind of... sentiment. Yet the image of her dancing alone, with an unspoken longing in her every step, stuck in his mind.

Could it be? Could she be imagining him as her partner in that dance? The thought made something shift inside him—a mix of desire and something deeper, darker. He didn't move, not wanting to disturb her or draw attention to himself. But his mind raced, spinning webs of thoughts he couldn't untangle.

Would she dance for him, if she knew he was watching? Would she want him as her partner, or was this just some moment of isolation, a self-soothing ritual that had nothing to do with him?

He swallowed the rising discomfort in his chest. This was dangerous. It was too human. Yet the more he stood there, the more he couldn’t pull himself away, rooted to the spot by the strange pull she had on him.

Sebastian stood there, hidden in the shadows, feeling a strange restlessness churn deep inside him. His mind was a storm of contradictions, and the more he tried to rationalize what he was feeling, the more it slipped through his fingers. He had seen countless things in his long life—extravagant, beautiful, and magnificent spectacles that had failed to stir anything within him. But this? Watching her dance alone in the stillness of the night, moving with such delicate grace—this was something else entirely.

He had never been one to lose his composure. Never been left speechless or in awe. He was a demon, after all, far above such trivialities. Emotions were beneath him. And yet, there he was, rooted to the spot, captivated by a human—a woman whose every movement seemed to twist something inside of him. It was maddening.

Why does she affect me like this?

He didn’t know. He couldn’t understand it. He was used to being in control, used to serving one purpose: to gain what he needed in exchange for his services. To obtain Ciel's soul. To execute the terms of their contract. Everything else was irrelevant. At least, that’s how it had always been.

But now, with each passing second, his thoughts wandered back to her. To the image of her spinning, laughing softly in the dim light. And the more he watched, the more he couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest. The desire to be closer to her, to understand her, to somehow be part of that dance. It was a need he couldn't name, and it disturbed him.

No. I don’t want this, he thought, but the words rang hollow, unconvincing even to his own ears.

If this was something that would get in the way of his goal—of his duty to Ciel—then he would crush it. He would push it down, lock it away, just as he had done with other meaningless feelings in the past. After all, his ultimate goal remained the same. Everything else was secondary.

But no, he thought again, a quiet growl of frustration rising within him. This isn’t getting in the way of anything. Not yet.

The rational part of his mind tried to convince him of that—that this was just a passing distraction, a fleeting moment of weakness that he could easily put aside. But it didn’t feel that way. There was something dangerous in how much he wanted to be near her, something that threatened to unravel the very fabric of his being.

He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, watching her, and for the first time in centuries, he felt out of place in his own skin. The familiar confidence, the cold certainty of a demon who had seen it all—shattered by a single, innocent human dance.

As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, there was no denying it now.

He was losing control.

Sebastian’s mind buzzed with confusion and something darker as he stood, hidden in the shadows outside her estate. His thoughts were still a tangled mess of emotions he’d never allowed himself to feel—craving, longing, and an unshakable desire to understand her. To possess her, perhaps, in ways he had never imagined.

But now, his restless mind was pushing him into action.

Without a second thought, Sebastian turned to the gate. He didn’t even bother sizing it up, for it was a trivial matter to him. With a casual glance at the metal structure, he took a single step back, his eyes briefly flicking to her window once more. The faint light of her candle flickered from the room above, but even that was about to vanish.

With a swift motion, he crouched, then launched himself over the gate with ease. He didn't need to gather momentum; his demon nature allowed him to jump effortlessly, the power and agility of his body turning the act into a fluid, almost lazy motion. The garden stretched before him like a sea of petals, the shadows of the night embracing him as he landed softly on the grass, his feet touching the earth with hardly a sound.

The landing itself was so quiet that, had anyone been nearby, they would have assumed it was a mere gust of wind. He straightened up almost immediately, scanning the garden before him. Every step he took seemed deliberate, the ease with which he navigated through the dark grounds betraying his years of experience moving unnoticed.

As he walked, his gaze flickered over the lush rows of flowers. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of the red carnations that blanketed the earth in vivid splashes of color. Carnations? he mused, a slight frown tugging at his lips. They were a common flower—nothing particularly special about them. Yet she had so many. Curious, he thought, his gaze lingering on the way they stood defiantly among the other, more prestigious blooms.

The roses, of course, were there as well—luxurious and regal, though they didn’t capture his attention quite the same way the red carnations did. And then, scattered among the roses and carnations, were red tulips. His eyes darkened slightly as he looked over them. She has a penchant for red, he noted, a small spark of something unsettling stirring in his chest.

As he moved deeper into the garden, his mind wandered back to her. The sight of her dancing in her room, the grace and softness of her movements, had been burned into his memory. He hadn’t meant to watch for so long, but he hadn’t been able to look away, even as the rational part of his mind screamed at him to stop.

Now, though, the garden seemed empty of life—just the shadows of nightfall. The only movement came from the gentle rustling of leaves in the cool evening breeze.

He looked back up at her window. The candlelight was gone, and the silence in her room told him what he already knew: she was asleep.

For a moment, he simply stood there, allowing himself to take in the serene surroundings. The overwhelming desire to possess something—someone—began to claw at him once more. But instead of the fierce, destructive urge he usually felt, there was something more. Something quieter. A strange sense of wanting to be near her, to understand her world.

Without truly knowing why, Sebastian continued his exploration, walking further into her garden. The quiet beauty of the flowers—those red carnations, the roses, the tulips—did little to ease the restlessness inside him. Instead, they seemed to feed it, urging him closer to her, to her world, to everything about her that he didn’t understand.

And as he walked, his mind continued to wrestle with the gnawing question.

Why her? Why now?

Sebastian carefully plucked a single red rose from her garden, his movements deliberate and smooth, as though he were conducting some private ritual. The delicate petals felt soft against his fingers, almost too soft, as if they were meant to be admired but never touched. Still, he held the flower carefully, a strange, possessive feeling rising within him as he tucked it into the folds of his coat. For later, he told himself, as if that would justify the action.

He turned away from the garden, moving silently around the side of the estate. The shadows played over his form as he passed the outer walls, his mind shifting back to the estate itself. The large, imposing structure spoke of wealth and history, of old money and inherited power. It was a place meant for someone of importance, a widow now, who had likely inherited all that once belonged to her late husband.

He must have been wealthy, Sebastian mused. The estate was far too grand for someone of a lesser station. The grounds were well-kept, the stonework pristine. The entire place spoke of privilege and a long, prestigious history.

She must have servants, too, he thought, noting the quiet stillness that enveloped the entire property. There were no sounds of movement or voices. All the staff were likely fast asleep.

Sebastian’s eyes briefly narrowed. He had never felt the need to indulge in such frivolities as servants, but it seemed like a curious part of her world. Perhaps one day I'll meet them too, he thought with a small smirk, the idea of learning every little detail about her world lingering at the back of his mind.

As he continued walking along the periphery of her estate, his thoughts turned back to her. To Y/N. The thoughts about her had a way of creeping up when he least expected them. He couldn’t help it. Her smile, the way she moved, even the way she had kissed him on the cheek—everything about her seemed to echo in his mind, reminding him of something he couldn’t quite place.

I’ll see her again tomorrow, he thought, his pace slowing as he anticipated their next meeting at the library. Yes, we’ll walk together again. But this time, he wondered, what would they do? Perhaps they would change things up, do something different. There was something about spending time with her, something about unraveling her complexities that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

Yet, as these thoughts tangled within him, a new wave of frustration rose up. The feeling of being flustered, of losing composure—it irritated him. He was Sebastian Michaelis, the demon who had lived centuries without allowing anything to interfere with his purpose.

But this… this was different. And it unsettled him.

He scoffed at himself, forcing his thoughts to sharpen. You’re a demon, he scolded inwardly. You don’t get flustered over humans.

But, despite his best efforts to quell the emotions, there was a gnawing sensation in his chest, a growing pull toward her, something he couldn’t ignore. And that, more than anything, irritated him the most.

I need to focus, he thought, dismissing the thoughts of her as best he could. Tomorrow, I’ll simply escort her again. That’s all it will be. Just another task to complete. But deep down, he knew that the thought of just another task was a lie.

A lie he couldn’t quite believe.

Sebastian stood poised in front of her grand estate, a calculated air of confidence about him. He had carefully planned this encounter, determined to not only escort her home from the library but to see if she might be open to spending more time with him—something more personal, something more meaningful. He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted yet, but he was certain that simply walking her home would no longer be enough. He needed to see her, understand her more.

With a quiet step, he approached the large, ornate door and knocked gently, the sound echoing through the high ceilings of her home. When the door opened, it was not Y/N who greeted him, but her servant girls. They smiled brightly at the sight of him, clearly pleased by his arrival. His features were as commanding as ever, and it was no surprise that they were taken by his presence.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said with his customary charm, his voice smooth and polished. “Is Miss Y/N available?”

The servants exchanged excited glances before nodding enthusiastically. “Of course, Mr. Sebastian,” one said. “We’ll fetch her right away.”

Sebastian followed them inside, observing the grandeur of the home, though his attention was fixed more on the distant sounds of Y/N’s movements within the estate. His enhanced senses picked up every shift in the air, every whispered word that passed between the servant girls.

One of the girls was heard giggling in the next room. "Miss Y/N, Miss Y/N! There is a man here to see you, Miss."

Sebastian’s lips quirked up at the hint of her excitement. Then, he heard her voice, light and filled with surprise. “Who? Tell me, what does he look like?” Her tone was eager, almost childlike in its curiosity.

The servant girl, clearly amused, lowered her voice conspiratorially. “He’s absolutely handsome, Miss. Black hair, tall—really tall, actually—and... strange eyes.”

Y/N’s delighted giggle echoed through the walls before she composed herself, a hint of something more reserved now in her tone. “I think I know who it is.” Sebastian could hear her moving closer, the soft rustle of fabric against her skin. “Tell me,” she asked breathlessly, “Do I look okay?”

Her servant reassured her with another bright smile. “Of course, my lady. You’re beautiful.”

He was struck by how eager she was, how she seemed to care so much about her appearance. Why would she doubt herself? he thought, though he had never given much thought to vanity or appearances before. For someone so poised, so graceful, it seemed unnecessary. She was stunning, and yet, there she was, unsure.

It wasn’t a thought he could quite wrap his mind around, but it only made him more curious about the woman who could hold such sway over his composure.

And then she appeared, stepping into the room with a light but graceful step. Her eyes, wide and sparkling, landed on him almost instantly, and the air seemed to hum with a charged intensity. Her smile made his heart skip, a reaction he had not expected. His posture shifted slightly, his usual composure faltering just for a moment.

“You’re here,” she said softly, almost as if she had been waiting for him all day.

Sebastian bowed his head politely, his eyes lingering on hers for just a beat too long. “Good evening, Miss Y/N. I thought I would drop by early today, if you don’t mind. I’d like to accompany you to the library... but perhaps we can take a different route today. I’d be honored if you’d allow me to escort you somewhere special afterward.”

His voice remained smooth, but the invitation was clear. He wasn’t simply offering to walk with her again; there was something more, a desire to be closer, to understand her more intimately. He was unsure what exactly drove him to feel this way, but he couldn’t shake the pull she had on him.

And as he waited for her response, he couldn’t help but notice how she seemed almost shy, yet intrigued, as she met his gaze.

Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk at the flustered look on Y/N’s face. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and delight. Good, he thought, I’ve made her blush. Just as planned.

When she answered, her voice was soft but eager, and it only made him more certain that he’d made the right choice in coming today. “Yes, I’d love that, Sebastian,” she said, her words wrapped in warmth. Her smile was hesitant but genuine, and it filled him with a sense of satisfaction he couldn’t quite explain. She was still taken aback by his presence, but there was something else in her gaze—something more affectionate, more intrigued.

From the other room, he could hear her servants’ muffled voices, giggling and whispering behind the door. “Did you see how gorgeous he is?” one of them said. “I mean, oh my stars, that man was stunning.”

Sebastian’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smile. He could hear the way they spoke of him, the admiration in their voices, but it didn’t make him feel the same rush of pride that it once might have. Instead, it only confirmed one thing—Y/N was different. She was the one who held his attention now. She was the one whose presence affected him in ways he couldn’t entirely comprehend.

Turning his focus back to her, he bowed again, this time with a bit more of a playful edge. “I shall meet you at the gate, Miss Y/N. I’m sure you’ll be more than prepared for our outing.”

She looked like she was about to say something else, but she paused, her fingers lightly twisting a strand of hair around her finger. The moment felt weighty, as if the air between them had thickened with unspoken thoughts. She nodded, though her smile remained a little uncertain, her excitement not yet fully masked by the poised grace she usually carried herself with.

“I’ll be ready shortly, Sebastian.” She bit her lip, still flushed, and before he could say another word, she quickly turned back toward her servants, giving them a playful but brief glance. "I should probably get ready, shouldn’t I?" she asked with a slight laugh, almost as if to regain composure.

Sebastian stood for a moment, watching her retreat into the other room. A small part of him—something uncomfortably new—wanted to follow her, wanted to be close to her at all times, to see everything she did, to be part of every moment she lived.

Stop it, he mentally scolded himself. You don’t need to be near her all the time.

But no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he knew he would be there. He would be by her side. Whatever this strange, inexplicable pull was, he would see it through.

As she disappeared from view, Sebastian stepped back toward the door, waiting patiently for her to finish preparing. His thoughts once again turned to the strange combination of emotions stirring inside him—ones he wasn’t used to feeling, ones he had no name for. What he did know was that he wanted to see where this new path would lead him.

Sebastian couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction when he saw her emerge from the house, looking even more radiant than before. She’d clearly put effort into her appearance, but there was something about the way she hurried out to meet him that made her even more endearing. Her hair was neatly arranged, and a soft flush still lingered on her cheeks from the brief encounter with her servants. The slight addition of color to her lips only enhanced her natural beauty, and for a moment, he found himself entirely caught up in her presence.

As she hurried toward the gate, her foot caught on the uneven ground. She stumbled, and without thinking, Sebastian’s hand shot out to catch her arms, steadying her before she could fall. He could feel the warmth of her skin under his fingertips, and it sent an unexpected rush through him.

Y/N’s gaze shot up to meet his, wide-eyed and flustered. Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, she looked as though she might say something, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. Instead, her cheeks flushed deeper, and she looked down, avoiding his gaze, though the quiet smile on her lips betrayed her flustered state.

“Thank you,” she murmured softly, her voice laced with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. “I guess I was in too much of a hurry…”

Sebastian’s smile widened, the kind of smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, though his own felt far from cold at that moment. “No need to thank me,” he said smoothly, his voice warm and reassuring. “I’d never let you fall.”

His words lingered in the air between them, and for a brief moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. He let go of her arms, but not before gently brushing his thumb over her wrist, a gesture that felt both intimate and natural. I’m losing control, he thought, but there was no part of him that wanted to pull back.

Y/N still appeared flustered, her gaze flitting between him and the ground as she composed herself. “Well, I’m glad you were here to catch me,” she said with a soft chuckle, her earlier nervousness giving way to a more comfortable warmth. “Shall we go then?”

Sebastian nodded, keeping his expression composed as always, though inwardly, he was savoring every moment. This was something new, something that was affecting him in ways he wasn’t accustomed to. And yet, he couldn’t deny the pull, the desire to be close to her, to spend time with her, to understand more of what was driving this connection between them.

“Of course,” he replied, his voice low and calm, though his heart had begun to beat a little faster. “Lead the way.”

They began walking together, and for once, the world seemed to fade into the background. The path ahead was unclear, but Sebastian found that he didn’t mind—he was more than content simply being by her side.

Sebastian wrapped her arm around his with such natural ease that it startled both of them. The way their bodies connected felt oddly comforting, though the feeling struck him as something he hadn’t anticipated. He stole a glance at her, noticing how her cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture. She didn’t pull away, though; instead, she seemed to relax against him, walking side by side as they left the estate.

“Where are we going, Sebastian?” she asked, her voice curious, yet there was a hint of excitement in it too.

“I figured I’d take you to see the sunrise,” he replied smoothly, his voice calm, but there was something softer in it that made his words feel more sincere. He could sense her surprise as she looked up at him, her eyes wide with intrigue. “Would you like that, dear?”

Her face brightened, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

Sebastian’s heart thudded against his chest in a way that was both unsettling and... pleasant. "Well, the sun won't be setting for a few hours yet, and the location is a surprise," he said with a smile that carried an almost mischievous glint. "I won’t budge on that, my dear."

She tilted her head slightly, intrigued by the mystery, but then, her curiosity shifted. "Do you drink?" he asked, his tone casual but laced with an underlying question.

She blinked, slightly caught off guard by the suddenness of it. “Oh... alcohol?” she asked, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Yes, I do. I quite enjoy whiskey, actually.”

He smirked, clearly pleased by the response, and he gave a subtle nod. "In that case, would you like to accompany me to a bar?" he suggested. "There’s one not far from here. We could grab a few drinks before heading out to see the sunset."

Y/N looked at him, a touch of surprise still lingering in her expression, but her interest was piqued. “A bar? That sounds... unexpected, but I suppose I’m up for it.”

Sebastian’s smile deepened, sensing that she was intrigued by the turn of events, though still unsure of what exactly he was planning. “Perfect,” he replied, his voice smooth and warm, like honey. “I’ll make sure you enjoy every moment, dear.”

The two of them walked in comfortable silence for a while, with Y/N glancing up at him now and then. There was an air of mystery around him that she couldn’t quite unravel, and though it was unsettling at times, it only drew her in more. Sebastian wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met, and that intrigued her—perhaps more than she was willing to admit.

Sebastian led her into the dimly lit bar, the soft chatter and clinking of glasses mixing with the smooth jazz music playing in the background. A young waiter ushered them to a booth, his eyes briefly flicking over Sebastian with a touch of admiration before directing them to a seat. To Y/N’s surprise, Sebastian chose to sit next to her rather than across from her. His presence so close sent a subtle jolt through her, but she said nothing, instead focusing on the waiter's soft voice asking if they were ready to order.

“Two glasses of whiskey,” Sebastian said smoothly, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face. He was aware of the way she tensed slightly at his proximity, but he made no mention of it. He wanted to enjoy her company, savoring the way her energy was a mix of curiosity and cautious excitement.

The waiter soon returned with the drinks, setting the glasses down before them. Sebastian didn’t waste a moment before lifting his to his lips, savoring the burn as the liquid slid down his throat. He glanced at her sidelong as she took a sip, noting the way she seemed distracted, perhaps by the closeness between them, or maybe by the sudden change in the mood.

“So,” he began, his voice low, a faint teasing lilt in it, “I read the book.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, still processing his presence beside her. “Hmm?” she asked, clearly caught off guard.

“Pride and Prejudice,” he clarified, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. “I read it last night.”

She raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “In one night?” she asked, her voice betraying a hint of admiration.

He nodded casually, taking another sip of his whiskey. “I told you I would. And I don’t have anything better to do, my dear.”

Y/N chuckled lightly at his confidence, but she was too flustered by his presence to focus on anything else. “Well, what did you think?” she asked, her voice light but with an underlying curiosity. Their arms were lightly touching now, and she couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading through her at the contact.

Sebastian glanced at her, his expression thoughtful as he set his glass down. “Well,” he began, his voice measured, “I thought that Darcy’s pride made him quite insufferable for the first half of the book. But I also thought, in a way, Elizabeth was just as prideful in her own way, even though she was meant to represent the prejudice.” He took a small pause, glancing at her to gauge her reaction before continuing. “I actually thought the two characters were quite similar despite their different social status.”

Y/N tilted her head, clearly intrigued by his analysis. “Interesting take,” she said, a playful glint in her eyes. “Did you like it more than Romeo and Juliet?” She couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of comparing the two.

Sebastian smirked at her, his gaze softening as he took another sip of his drink. “Yes, yes, my dear,” he said, his voice warm and amused. “Very, very much so.”

“Really?” Y/N said, her smile widening. “Why?”

Sebastian leaned back slightly, his arm brushing against hers as he did so. “At least the characters in Pride and Prejudicehad build-up, depth,” he explained. “Something that’s lacking in Romeo and Juliet. Those two barely know each other before they’re ready to die for one another. In Pride and Prejudice, there’s real progression, real understanding between the characters.” His tone grew more thoughtful, as though contemplating the contrast between the two stories.

Y/N chuckled, enjoying the exchange. She hadn’t expected to have such a meaningful conversation over drinks, but Sebastian had a way of making everything feel significant, as though each word carried weight. “Fair enough,” she said. “It’s true, I suppose.”

Sebastian’s eyes sparkled slightly as he took another sip of his whiskey, clearly enjoying the conversation. His posture relaxed, but his gaze never strayed far from her face, listening intently as she spoke. “Do you read a lot, Sebastian?” she asked, her voice light but curious.

He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Why yes, my dear. I figure, to understand people better, the best way to go about it is through literature.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his answer. “That’s interesting,” she said thoughtfully, setting her glass down for a moment. “I’ve never thought about it that way. For me, it’s more of an escape method.”

Sebastian’s gaze softened, studying her face closely. “Escape?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Do you wish to escape the world around you?”

She paused, reflecting on her own feelings. She had never really expressed her reasons for reading before. "I suppose so," she said slowly. "Reading lets me step into another world for a while, a world where I can forget about the complexities of my own. It's a way to... take my mind off things." She gave a soft, self-conscious smile, as though not entirely sure how much she wanted to reveal.

Sebastian took another drink, the amber liquid swishing gently in his glass as he considered her words. “I understand,” he said quietly. “Sometimes the real world can be... too much to bear. And in books, you can find solace, perhaps even solace from yourself.”

Y/N’s expression softened, the sincerity in his voice striking a chord with her. “That’s true,” she murmured. “Sometimes the characters are easier to connect with than the people around you.”

A small silence fell between them, and Sebastian took the opportunity to lean in slightly, his voice lowering with a touch of warmth. “And sometimes, it’s not the characters themselves, but the emotions they evoke... don’t you think?”

Y/N met his gaze, surprised by the depth of his words. “You’re right,” she said softly, feeling the weight of the moment. “It’s the feelings that linger long after the pages are closed.”

He smiled at her thoughtfully, his voice taking on a slightly teasing tone. “You’re quite perceptive, my dear. I think you might understand literature better than you realize.”

She chuckled, her cheeks coloring slightly at the compliment. “I wouldn’t say that,” she replied, her voice light again. “But I do enjoy losing myself in a good book every now and then.”

Sebastian's lips curled into a knowing smile as he finished his drink. “Ah, yes. Escaping into someone else’s life, if only for a little while, can be quite... refreshing.”

Y/N took another sip of her whiskey, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through her, both from the alcohol and the growing connection between them. "I suppose that’s what we both seek, isn’t it? Escape, but in different ways."

Sebastian’s smile grew just a touch more genuine. "Perhaps, my dear. But isn’t it wonderful that, in this moment, we can simply be... here, together?"

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, her thoughts slowing as she looked into his dark eyes. She felt as though there were so many layers to him, layers she had only begun to peel back. For someone who so easily presented himself with a polished, composed exterior, there was something undeniably captivating about his honesty—something raw, even in its restraint.

“Here, together,” she repeated softly, letting the words settle between them.

Sebastian, sensing the shift in the air, leaned back in the booth, his hand brushing lightly against hers. “Indeed, my dear. Here, together. Isn’t it quite pleasant?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, feeling her heart flutter at the simple sentiment. “Yes,” she replied quietly. “It is.”

Sebastian finished his glass of whiskey with a slow, deliberate motion, setting it down on the table before catching the waiter’s attention. He ordered another drink, the sound of his voice smooth, even as he let himself relax into the evening. The effect of the whiskey had begun to loosen him up, and he found himself feeling a bit more at ease than he had when they first sat down.

He glanced over at her, feeling her gaze meeting his with an intensity that he hadn’t expected. Her eyes were focused, studying him with an inquisitive look, almost as if she were trying to decipher him in that very moment. Her lips parted slightly, and without thinking, she spoke.

"You have very pretty eyes, Sebastian," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. "I’ve never seen anyone with eyes like yours. They’re almost red."

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected the compliment, nor the way it made him feel. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether she was being sincere. Slowly, his lips curved into a faint smile, though there was a hint of something deeper in his eyes as he spoke.

“You think so, dear?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, as if savoring the moment.

She didn’t hesitate, her gaze never leaving his. “I do.”

He felt a warmth spread through him at her words, an unfamiliar sensation that had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the way she was looking at him. It wasn’t just the compliment itself, but the genuine way she had said it, as if she truly saw him.

Sebastian’s smile deepened, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to bask in the moment, knowing that he had her full attention. “You are far too kind,” he said, his voice carrying a touch of warmth that he reserved only for her. "But I must admit, I’ve never been so captivated by my own eyes as I am right now, looking into yours."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed slightly at his response, but she held his gaze, unshaken. "It’s true," she said, her voice steady, though her heart fluttered. "They’re mesmerizing."

Sebastian's smile turned into something a little more mischievous. "Ah, mesmerizing, you say? Well, now you’ve made me curious... How much more of me can you stand to gaze upon, my dear?"

The playful challenge in his voice caused her to blush a little deeper, but she didn’t look away. “I think I could gaze at you for hours and still be drawn in by the mystery of it all.”

His smirk softened into something almost gentle. "Then I suppose I should consider myself quite fortunate to be under your gaze tonight."

The waiter returned with their second round of whiskey, breaking the spell of the moment, but the air between them felt charged with something new, something neither of them had expected.

Y/N’s curiosity got the best of her as she watched him with those dark, mysterious eyes, her fingers lightly grazing the edges of his gloves. “Do you mind if I take off your gloves, Sebastian?” she asked softly, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and warmth. “You’ve always worn them around me, and I’m curious. Of course, if you’re not comfortable with it…”

Before she could finish her sentence, he cut her off, his voice smooth but tinged with an amused tone. “I don’t mind, my dear,” he said, his eyes watching her closely, eager to see what she would do next.

She looked at him for a moment, as if to double-check, then slowly reached forward. With a careful and deliberate motion, she pulled the gloves off his hands, sliding them gently from his fingers before tucking them into her pocket. His hands were revealed to her, his fingernails blackened on both hands, sharp and almost otherworldly. But it was the tattoo on his left hand that caught her attention, a pentagram etched into his skin in dark ink, intricate and precise.

Y/N leaned closer without hesitation, her fingers grazing lightly over the design as she examined it with interest. She didn’t recoil, didn’t react with fear or disgust, only looked at him with a calm appreciation.

“This is pretty,” she said simply, her voice soft but sincere as she studied the tattoo. It was a small piece of him, a secret he had kept hidden, and in that moment, it felt like she had unlocked a part of him he rarely showed anyone.

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat for a brief second. The words, so simple yet genuine, had a strange effect on him. His pulse quickened, and for a moment, he found himself flustered—a rare and unexpected reaction. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her as she held his hand, her fingers brushing over the tattoo like she was mapping it out in her mind.

No one had ever described his mark as “pretty” before, and yet here she was, admiring it as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Something about her calm acceptance, her ease with him, made the walls he’d carefully built around himself feel a little less necessary.

“You... think it’s pretty?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, a hint of vulnerability threading through the words. His usual composure faltered slightly as he let her continue to study him.

Y/N’s face flushed as she shyly looked away, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Why yes, I do…” she murmured, her voice laced with a quiet uncertainty. The intimacy of the moment had caught her off guard, her heart racing a little faster than she’d expected.

Sebastian, sensing her shyness, couldn’t help but be drawn to her. His fingers, so accustomed to control, reached out gently, lifting her face to meet his gaze. His touch was tender, almost as if he were afraid to break the delicate connection between them. "Don’t hide from me, please," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I like looking at you."

Her breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a mixture of affection and something deeper she wasn’t sure how to label. The whiskey had loosened her up, but it was his presence that made her feel safe, yet strangely exposed. As his hand cradled her face, she couldn’t resist the pull. Slowly, almost unconsciously, she leaned into the palm of his hand, her eyes fluttering closed for just a second.

“If you insist,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, the words heavy with meaning that neither of them had fully explored yet.

He gazed at her, his fingers lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary, before gently pulling his hand away. “Now, my dear, it’s beginning to get late,” he said, his voice softening but still carrying that same commanding undertone. “We’re reaching twilight, and the sun should be setting soon.”

She nodded, a small, almost wistful smile appearing on her lips. She could feel the evening slipping away, but there was something about being with him, in this quiet moment, that made time feel irrelevant.

Sebastian left the money on the table, the sound of the coins clinking against the surface barely registering in the air as he stood. With a smooth motion, he offered his arm to her once more, guiding her out of the bar and into the cool evening air. The night was alive with possibilities, and as they stepped into the fading light of the evening, the anticipation of what was to come felt almost palpable between them.

As they walked through the quiet streets, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the thick grass beneath them, Sebastian led her gently off the path, guiding her hand through the trees that framed the edge of the field. The further they ventured, the more the city’s noise seemed to fade into the distance, leaving only the soft rustling of leaves and the whisper of a cool evening breeze.

Y/N's curiosity grew with each step, and she couldn't help but ask, “Where are we going?”

Sebastian’s smile was faint, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he glanced back at her. "You’ll see, my dear. I told you earlier, it’s a surprise."

The moment they stepped into the field, her breath caught in her throat. The scene before her was breathtaking. Wild lavender stretched across the expanse, the deep purple flowers swaying gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance filling the air. Tall grass swirled around them, and the moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a soft, ethereal glow across the land. It was like stepping into a hidden paradise, far removed from the chaos of the world.

She was speechless, the beauty of the place leaving her in awe. "It’s... very beautiful here," she finally whispered, her voice full of wonder.

Sebastian sat down on the grass and patted the spot beside him, his voice smooth, as though he knew how deeply this moment was affecting her. "I’m glad you think so," he replied, a quiet pride in his tone. "You know, my dear, it’s not often I meet a woman—or anyone, really—that I take a genuine interest in."

Y/N turned to look at him, her heart skipping a beat at his words. She couldn’t quite place why his sincerity felt so different from the others who had crossed her path. There was something about him that drew her in, something magnetic and elusive all at once.

Sebastian continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he leaned back on the grass, making himself comfortable. "That’s a good compliment, Y/N, coming from me," he said, his words carrying an unexpected weight.

Her heart fluttered, and despite the surreal beauty of the moment, her mind couldn’t help but focus on the intimacy of what he’d said. She took a deep breath, still processing how everything seemed to fall into place when she was with him.

"I... I’m honored," she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips, though she wasn’t sure if she was more flustered by his attention or the quiet peace of the field surrounding them.

Sebastian let a soft chuckle escape his lips as he turned his head to meet her gaze, his eyes dark and intense, filled with something she couldn’t fully read. "You should be, my dear. It’s not often that I find someone who truly captivates me."

She swallowed hard, her fingers brushing against the cool grass beneath them. Despite the calm surroundings, the air between them was charged with something undeniable—an unspoken connection that neither of them seemed willing to break. It was in moments like this, where silence spoke louder than words, that she realized just how much she was drawn to him.

As they sat in the serene field, the quiet ambiance filled with the rustling of the tall grass, Y/N’s attention was suddenly drawn to a small, black stray cat that had wandered into the open space. It moved cautiously, sniffing the air as if unsure of its surroundings, but there was something comforting in the way it walked, its fur sleek under the moonlight.

"Oh, look," Y/N murmured, her eyes softening at the sight.

Sebastian’s gaze immediately followed hers, and she could see the rare spark of excitement in his eyes as he stood up quickly, making his way toward the cat. His movements were smooth, deliberate—almost too confident. It was unusual for stray animals to approach people, especially so willingly, but something about Sebastian seemed to draw them in.

Without hesitation, he crouched down, reaching out to gently scoop the cat into his arms. The animal didn’t resist, letting him handle it with ease. Y/N watched, surprised at how natural he seemed with the creature, his usual sharpness replaced by something softer.

Sebastian returned to his spot beside her, settling the cat in his lap. He cooed at it softly, brushing his fingers through its fur. "Do you like animals, Y/N?" he asked casually, his voice low and soothing.

Y/N blinked in surprise at the question, her eyes flicking between the cat and Sebastian. “Hmm… I do, but I never expected you to be so fond of them,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

Sebastian chuckled, his gaze fixed on the cat in his lap. "I like cats, my dear. They’re better company than people. Much less insufferable." His fingers stroked the cat’s fur, and the small animal purred in contentment, its eyes half-closed as it enjoyed the attention.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, teasing him lightly. "And what about me, Sebastian? Am I insufferable?"

He glanced up at her, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Except for you, of course. You're not insufferable at all. In fact, I quite like you," he said with a hint of sincerity in his voice that caught her off guard.

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She hadn’t expected such warmth from him, especially after the playful teasing earlier. “Why, I’m honored, Sebastian,” she replied, her voice soft but genuine. Her cheeks flushed with the faintest shade of pink, but she didn’t shy away from his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel both seen and understood.

Sebastian, still gently petting the cat, let out a satisfied hum. "It’s the truth, my dear," he murmured, his attention shifting between the cat and her. "You’re an unusual one. I find myself intrigued."

Y/N tilted her head, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. "Oh, am I?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, intrigued by his response.

Sebastian's gaze softened as he looked at her. "Yes. Yes, you are," he replied, his tone slow and deliberate. "I find some people interesting, but I don’t care to get to know them. That is, until I met you a few days ago." He paused for a moment, glancing down at the cat in his lap before continuing, his voice almost contemplative. "Strange, when you think you have your whole existence figured out, and then someone comes along and throws you off balance. It’s rather rude of you, my dear," he said with a playful smirk.

Y/N’s laugh was light and full of warmth as she met his gaze. "Oh, my apologies," she teased, her tone dripping with sweetness. "I didn’t realize I had so rudely thrown your ‘whole existence’ off balance."

Sebastian’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he leaned slightly closer, his voice now dripping with mock seriousness. "Why yes, my dear. That might just make me feel better," he said with a smirk, his lips curling at the edges. "I’d love to see you grovel."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly in playful shock. "Grovel, you say?" she replied, her smile widening as she leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "And what would that look like, I wonder? Would you like me to fall to my knees, perhaps?" Her laughter rang through the air, light and teasing, as she amused herself with the idea.

Sebastian’s expression shifted ever so slightly, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Now you’re catching on, my dear," he said, his voice almost a low purr. "I believe that would be just perfect." The tension between them shifted, his eyes locked on hers as if daring her to play along.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile wider, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "Well, Sebastian," she said, her voice light but full of mischief, "if that’s what it takes to make you feel better, then I suppose I’ll have to consider it." She then placed her hand over her heart in an exaggerated gesture, mockingly bowing her head. "Forgive me, sir, for my offense," she said with a dramatic flourish, all while keeping her eyes on him, laughter dancing in her voice.

Sebastian chuckled, clearly amused, but there was something in the way his eyes softened as he gazed at her, a silent understanding passing between them. "You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you, my dear," he said with a wink, reaching out to gently brush his thumb against her cheek. "Though, I’ll admit, you’re far too charming for your own good."

Sebastian stared off into the distance, the evening breeze brushing against his face as his thoughts took a darker turn. The voice in his head—a familiar, harsh whisper—sneaked in, reminding him of everything he had ever avoided confronting.

Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. The words echoed in his mind, each one stabbing deeper than the last. You don’t have the time for this. For hell's sake, you're a demon. She’s mortal. She’s nothing more than a passing moment for you, something fleeting. The thoughts came with the familiar bitterness, cold and calculating. You've never cared for anyone unless there’s something in it for you.

A shiver ran down his spine, not from the chill of the evening air, but from the weight of his own thoughts. He clenched his jaw, hands trembling slightly as the nagging voice pushed harder, trying to drown out the calm he’d felt with her moments ago.

But then, something inside him snapped. With a force that almost startled him, he shoved the thoughts away. You know what? Maybe just maybe you can go fuck yourself for once, he said to himself, his inner voice cutting through the fog of doubt.

For the first time in ages, he felt a flicker of defiance—against the voice in his mind, against everything that had always dictated his actions, his choices. He shifted his gaze back to her, sitting there so close, so real, and suddenly the weight of those old habits, those dark thoughts, felt like they were slipping off him.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice gentle and inquisitive, cutting through the storm in his mind.

Sebastian blinked, his thoughts momentarily clearing as he looked at her. His lips curled into a smile, this one softer, more genuine than the ones he’d given before. "Of course, my dear. I’m just... lost in thought." He didn’t elaborate. For once, there was no need. And for once, he allowed himself to simply be with her, without the weight of the past pulling him down.

And for the first time, in her company, he didn’t care if his existence had been built on selfishness. Maybe—just maybe—this moment was worth more than he had ever allowed himself to believe.

The sky grew darker as the sun dipped lower beneath the horizon, casting the world in a soft, golden light. But then, the rain came—slow at first, like a whisper against the earth. It was warm, refreshing, and before long, it began to fall harder, soaking everything in its path.

Y/N stood in the middle of the field, her arms lifted toward the sky, her face tilted upward as she let the rain wash over her. Her dress clung to her, but the smile on her face made the wetness seem like nothing at all. She laughed softly, feeling the coolness of the droplets as they traced down her skin. There was something freeing about it, something that made her forget about everything else in the world.

Sebastian watched her, his initial irritation at the rain fading as he saw the joy on her face. His brows furrowed slightly at first, but then, despite himself, he felt the pull of her happiness, her carefree spirit. And before he knew it, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

She was soaked now, but it didn’t seem to matter to her. She welcomed the storm, as if it was a part of the moment, and in that instant, Sebastian couldn’t help but feel drawn to her—drawn to the way she embraced everything with such openness, such warmth.

He stood up from where he’d been leaning against a tree, taking a few steps toward her, his boots squelching in the wet grass. The rain pelted his face, but he barely noticed as he reached her, his gaze locking with hers. She looked up at him, her lips parted in surprise, the rain plastering her hair to her face, her eyes wide.

"Do you like the rain, my darling?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of the downpour.

She didn’t hesitate, her voice coming out clear despite the storm. "I love it—" But before she could finish, he reached out, his hands brushing against her arms as he pulled her close.

In that instant, everything else fell away. The storm, the world around them—none of it mattered. The only thing that existed was the way her eyes locked with his, the way her breath hitched as he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss.

He didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was the rain, or maybe it was the way she stood there, so beautiful and unguarded, but he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her, the rain soaking both of them as if it were the only thing in the world.

Her fingers curled into his shirt, and he felt her heartbeat quicken against his chest, the soft gasp she made as he kissed her deeper. There was no hesitation now. Only the rush of the storm and the heat between them.

For that moment, it was as if time had stopped. They were lost in the rain, in each other, and nothing else mattered. Not the darkness gathering around them, not the world beyond the field—they were all that existed, wrapped in the warmth of their shared breath and the pouring rain.

Taglist (let me know if you wanna go on it)

@canigotosleep--plz @itsafairytalekay @starlightanyaaa @sillysushi @haruhatake @hargun-s @tibibibi123 @mistymuii @moonchhu @vamqyx @dekusdante @eis1kitsune @yumii-34 @anemo-fandango

Let me know what you think :)

[strawberrygirll13]

I’m a Bit of a Outsider

Sebastian x reader

Part 1

A Black butler fanfic 🖤

Y/N sat in the quiet corner of the library, deeply engrossed in the pages of Romeo and Juliet. She’d always been drawn to the tragedy, forbidden love and the passion between the two characters, despite their brief and tragic lives. Her fingers delicately turned the pages as she read, lost in the story.

Sebastian, the observer he was, had noticed her the moment he entered the library. She was a striking woman, her beauty tempered with an air of intelligence that immediately caught his interest. He approached her, his steps silent, almost predatory in the way he moved.

With a faint smile playing on his lips, he glanced at the book in her hands and spoke, his voice smooth and condescending:
“How disappointing,” he began, his tone light yet laced with a hint of mockery, “to see such a smart and beautiful woman like yourself waste her time on such a trivial story.” He gave a knowing shake of his head. “The characters didn’t even know each other for more than two days before deciding to marry and then—well, end their lives in such a pathetic way. It’s nothing more than the folly of stupid teenagers.”

Y/N, unfazed by the criticism, raised an eyebrow and glanced up at him. There was an amused sparkle in her eyes, but her voice remained polite. “And you don’t think love at first sight is possible?”

Sebastian chuckled softly, clearly entertained by her response. “No, my dear,” he replied with a slight tilt of his head, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “It’s simply not realistic. In fact, the very concept of love itself is rather questionable, don’t you think? What is it really? A hormonal chemical reaction in humans? A temporary madness brought on by fleeting emotions?”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her smile playful but with an edge of sincerity. “I suppose, from a scientific standpoint, I can understand your point. But I simply can’t bring myself to believe that. What else does one have to live for if not love? The pursuit of it, at least?”

Sebastian’s smile widened, the corners of his lips lifting slightly as he regarded her with a newfound curiosity. “Fair enough, my dear. It’s a charming perspective.”

A moment of silence passed between them, thick with the underlying tension of an intellectual sparring match. Sebastian’s curiosity was piqued, and he couldn’t resist asking, his voice soft but still carrying that polished, almost formal tone:
“What’s your name?”

Y/N paused for a moment, before answering with a touch of warmth in her voice. “Y/N. And yours?”

“Sebastian Michaelis,” he replied smoothly. “But no need for formalities. You may simply call me Sebastian. Mr. This or Mr. That feels rather unnecessary, don’t you think?”

Y/N smiled politely, her tone warm but with a hint of amusement. “Nice to meet you, Sebastian,” she replied, her words soft yet measured. She couldn’t help but notice the unusual nature of his insistence on being called by his first name, a rarity for a man of his apparent standing. It was curious, but she didn’t mind it. There was something intriguing about him—something she couldn’t quite place yet.

As she studied him, she became aware of just how attractive he was. His sharp features, the way he carried himself with such effortless grace, and the dark, captivating gaze that never seemed to waver. He was undeniably handsome.

Sebastian, always aware of his effect on others, noticed her gaze linger for a moment longer than it should have. But he said nothing. There was no need to comment on such things—his charm was merely a given.

“You know,” he continued, his voice smooth and unfaltering, “as I predicted, you are indeed a smart woman. A rare trait, I’m sure.” His lips curled ever so slightly. “But it’s a pity to see you waste your time on such books. Disappointing, honestly.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, momentarily unsure whether she should feel insulted or flattered. She chose the latter. Her smile remained polite, though there was a playful glint in her eyes. “Well, I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, her voice light.

Sebastian gave a faint sigh, his gaze turning toward the shelves as if pondering something for a moment before returning his attention to her. “Well, my dear,” he began, his tone now more insistent, “if you enjoy reading Shakespeare, I’d rather see a beautiful woman like yourself indulge in something more worthwhile. Perhaps something with better plot, better characters, and more depth, such as Macbeth. Much more... satisfying, don’t you think?”

Y/N considered the suggestion for a moment. “I am planning on reading it, actually,” she said, her voice measured but good-natured. “I simply haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips curving upward slightly. “Well, if I insist,” he said, his gaze lingering on her with a subtle intensity, “perhaps you should get on it soon, for your own sake.”

She chuckled softly, finding the exchange amusing. “For your sake, Sebastian? I do believe I must humor you, then.”

Sebastian found himself strangely intrigued by her. Despite knowing that she had no direct connections to Ciel or any of the information he was hunting for, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something about her—something that drew him in. She held no immediate benefit to him, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to know more.

Without thinking, he seated himself next to her, the chair scraping softly against the wooden floor. His dark eyes studied her with quiet curiosity, his usual composure slipping just slightly in the presence of someone so unusual.

“It’s rare to see a woman like yourself, alone,” he remarked, his voice soft but pointed. “No offense, of course. It’s a compliment, especially for a woman of high status. I can tell by your clothes. Where is your husband, my dear?” His tone remained casual, but there was a certain undertone of interest. “Surely you must be...”

Before he could finish, she cut him off gently.

“He passed away about a year ago,” Y/N said, her voice calm yet tinged with a quiet sorrow. “It was an arranged marriage, of sorts. He was about twenty-five years older than me, and we were never close. It was simply for financial purposes. He was kind, though, and I do miss his kindness. But he left me his estate, along with a large sum of money.” She paused briefly, gathering her thoughts before continuing. “He encouraged me to live the rest of my life happily, whether I choose to remarry or not.”

Sebastian was taken aback. He had expected a different response, perhaps more emotion, but she spoke with such maturity, such composure. He regarded her with newfound respect. “I must admit, I’m impressed, my dear,” he said, his voice softer now, as if genuinely acknowledging her strength. “A woman of your position, your intelligence... rare, indeed. You are a woman of extraordinary grace.”

He studied her for a moment longer before continuing, his voice laced with a hint of something more protective. “My advice to you, though, is to not remarry. A man would surely take away the very freedom that you now possess—a freedom that most women don’t even have to begin with.”

Y/N smiled softly, her expression thoughtful as she considered his words. “Perhaps,” she began, “but then again, I do believe in love. And this time, I could find someone of my own choosing—not one forced upon me by my parents. So who knows?”

Sebastian sighed, a hint of disappointment creeping into his voice. “It really is unfortunate, isn’t it?” he mused, his eyes not leaving hers. “For someone as smart as you to be such a hopeless romantic... I knew as soon as I saw you with that book in your hands, dear.”

His words hung in the air, the subtle tension between them palpable, as if he was both fascinated and slightly frustrated by her belief in love. But his fascination with her only seemed to grow.

Y/N chuckled softly, a delicate smile curling on her lips as she regarded him. "My, I've never met a man who attests to the concept of love the way you do," she said, amusement in her voice. "Honestly, it's disappointing."

Sebastian's lips twitched into a subtle smirk at her words. "Is it now?" he replied with a touch of sarcasm. "I do tend to find that love is, at best, a fleeting notion—one best left unexamined. It’s often the folly of the mind."

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on him. "You’re a very attractive young man, Sebastian," she added, her voice thoughtful, "and I’m sure many women would take interest in you. Yet here you are, spouting such cynicism."

Sebastian’s laugh was low and almost mocking, but there was a certain warmth to it, something that felt genuine beneath the surface. "It appears, my dear, that we’ve both come to an agreement that we are both disappointed in the other’s stance when it comes to this topic," he said with a wry smile. "It’s humorous, really."

Y/N let out a soft laugh herself, a pleasant sound that caught him off guard. "It is quite the dilemma, isn’t it?" she mused.

"It is," he agreed, his voice taking on a more contemplative tone, though his gaze never left her. "The idea of love seems to be such a complicated thing... perhaps a luxury some can afford." His eyes darkened slightly, his words tinged with an unreadable emotion. "But for others like us, it's hardly more than a concept—a mere distraction."

Y/N felt a strange shiver run down her spine, as if there were more to his words than he let on. His expression softened, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made her wonder what lay beneath the surface. She didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to take a moment to think over his words.

Sebastian’s usual composed demeanor faltered for a brief moment, something flickering behind his eyes that she couldn’t quite place. His voice softened, almost unrecognizable, as if a rare concern had crept into his words. "Well, my dear, it’s getting late." He paused, a subtle frown forming on his brow as he watched her. "I’d hate for anything bad to happen to you on your walk home. So many odd characters roaming the streets this time of night." His gaze held hers, unblinking. "Would you allow me to escort you home?"

Y/N, caught off guard by the unusual concern in his tone, blinked in surprise but smiled softly. "I don’t see what the problem would be. Sure! You can join me on my walk home," she agreed, her voice light and trusting, though a slight hesitation tugged at her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to his offer, something beneath the surface.

Sebastian’s lips twitched into a smile that was both pleasant and faintly predatory. He had what he wanted now—an excuse to follow her, to learn more about her life, her habits, where she lived. As they walked out of the library, he made sure to keep a careful distance, his eyes scanning her every movement, noting every detail.

The streets outside were quieter now, the sky darkened and the soft rustling of leaves and distant chatter the only sounds filling the air. He could feel his excitement rise with each step, his focus entirely on her. But even as he enjoyed the company, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder: What was it about her that made her so intriguing, so different from the others?

Y/N, unaware of the depth of his thoughts, walked with an easy stride, her hands clasped lightly behind her back. "So, tell me," she said casually, turning her head slightly towards him, "do you often walk ladies home at night? Or am I special?" She couldn’t resist teasing him a little, though she still didn’t know exactly what had prompted his concern.

Sebastian’s lips curled into a smile, but there was something sharper about it now, something that hinted at the complexity of his feelings. "You are, my dear," he said smoothly, his voice dipping lower, "quite unique in many ways."

Sebastian, with a sudden, almost gentlemanly gesture, extended his arm towards her, a surprising but charming offer. "May I?" he asked, his voice smooth as ever, though there was a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. Y/N hesitated for only a moment before accepting his arm, her fingers brushing lightly against his sleeve as she took it. A small part of her wondered why this felt so natural, but she quickly pushed the thought aside as they began walking.

As they moved through the quiet streets, their footsteps echoed against the cobblestones, the air cool and crisp. Y/N, lost in her thoughts, suddenly realized something and stopped, her brow furrowing slightly. "I’m so sorry," she said, her voice sincere. "It appears I haven’t asked you much about yourself. I’ve been rambling on about my own life, but what about you? Where are you from, and... what’s your story?"

Sebastian’s gaze flickered to her, momentarily surprised by the question, though it didn’t show in his expression. For a brief second, he found himself... uncertain. This woman—so intelligent, so captivating—had a way of making him feel something he hadn’t anticipated. Yet, despite his growing intrigue, he couldn’t bring himself to fully reveal the truth.

Instead, he gave her a partial truth, a story that wasn’t exactly a lie but didn’t quite give her the full picture. "I suppose I’m a bit of an... outsider," he began, his voice low, almost distant, as if the past was something he wished to keep buried. "I’ve traveled a great deal, been many places. I’ve seen... much." He paused, his eyes glinting with something she couldn’t decipher. "My origins are not as important as my current situation. I find that my past is often irrelevant to the present."

Y/N considered his answer, her gaze studying him with curiosity. She could tell he wasn’t being entirely forthcoming, but there was something in his tone that made her hesitate to press him further. "I see," she said thoughtfully, her tone not accusatory but more like she was contemplating his words. "Well, I suppose we all have our secrets, don’t we?"

Sebastian’s smile returned, though it was tinged with something darker this time. "Indeed, my dear. Secrets make the world far more... interesting, don’t you think?" His words were light, but there was an edge to them, as though he were hinting at something deeper.

They continued walking, the conversation drifting into more mundane topics, but Sebastian’s mind remained focused on the woman beside him. He couldn’t deny that he felt something different for her—an attachment, perhaps even a need, that he hadn’t expected. And as they neared her home, he found himself wondering what the next step in this strange game would be.

Sebastian's steps slowed as the realization hit him—almost physically. The same composed demeanor that he wore like a mask faltered for the briefest of moments. He was intrigued, yes. That was natural for someone of his nature, someone who had lived as long as he had. But this? This was different.

For the first time in a long while, Sebastian was unsure. He’d toyed with many things in his life—power, control, manipulation—but the pull he felt toward this woman, Y/N, was something foreign to him. It was unsettling. He found himself wanting to know more, to see her again, even though they had only known each other for a few hours.

Why? What was it about her that caused this strange, almost irresistible tug in his chest?

Her presence, her intelligence, her beauty—it all stirred something deep within him, something he hadn't felt in ages. He’d watched countless people over the centuries, interacted with many, but he hadn’t felt an attachment like this in years. She was a stranger, yes. A woman of high status, a widow, someone who had no real connection to him or his world. Yet, there was something about her—something he couldn’t quite grasp—that made him want more. More than just an evening walk. More than just a fleeting interaction.

"Sebastian?" Y/N’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, gentle but curious. She had stopped walking and was looking up at him, a slight smile on her lips. The dim glow from the street lamps illuminated her face, and for a moment, Sebastian was captivated by the way the light danced on her features.

"Forgive me," he said smoothly, regaining his composure with ease. "I was simply... lost in thought." He had to force the words out, as if to reassure himself more than her.

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with a hint of amusement. "You seem quite... distracted. Is something on your mind?"

Sebastian’s lips curled into a half-smile, masking the turmoil that churned inside him. "It’s nothing," he said smoothly, as if it were the most trivial thing in the world. "I simply find our conversation... intriguing."

"Intriguing?" she repeated, her tone light but with a glint of curiosity. "I suppose I should be flattered."

"Flattered, indeed," he replied with a soft chuckle. "It’s rare to come across someone who can challenge my views, and yet you’ve done so effortlessly. It’s... refreshing."

She smiled, though there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "I’m glad you think so. I do enjoy a good challenge, after all."

As they continued walking, the silence between them grew, but it was not uncomfortable. The night air seemed to hold an unspoken understanding, one that neither of them fully acknowledged. Sebastian, however, found himself battling with a strange urge. He wanted to know more about her, to be in her presence again. The thought lingered, persistent and unavoidable.

By the time they arrived at her home, the feeling hadn’t dissipated. If anything, it had only grown stronger. He stood at her doorstep, almost unwilling to let go of the moment.

"Thank you for your company, Sebastian," Y/N said softly, her voice breaking the spell he’d found himself under. "I enjoyed our conversation."

Sebastian stared at her for a long moment, the strange sensation still tugging at him. "I should be the one thanking you," he replied, his voice quieter than usual. "I... look forward to our next meeting, my dear."

Her smile was warm, though she didn’t seem to notice the underlying tension in his words. "I’m sure we’ll meet again, Sebastian."

As she entered her house and closed the door behind her, Sebastian stood there for a few moments longer, staring at the door. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions he couldn’t quite understand. Was this truly just curiosity? Or was it something more? And if it was something more, did he even want to acknowledge it?

He had never been one for feelings. But now, as he walked away into the night, he couldn’t shake the nagging thought: Did he want to see her again?

Sebastian found himself pacing in the dimly lit room of his quarters, the cold stone walls offering little comfort as his mind relentlessly returned to the same place—the woman he had met just days ago. Y/N. Her name echoed in his mind like a haunting melody. He had tried to dismiss it, to bury the thought in the mountain of work he had to do for Ciel, but no matter how hard he focused, no matter how many hours he spent gathering information, her face, her voice, the way she smiled—every single detail clawed at his thoughts.

He was supposed to be a demon of reason, not a creature of impulse. Yet, it seemed impossible to ignore the pull that her presence had left on him. It was as if she had burrowed herself into the deepest recesses of his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to push her away, the thought of her lingered. Why? Why was he so unsettled by someone who was, in the grand scheme of things, utterly insignificant to him?

"She’s just a woman," he muttered to himself, but the words felt hollow. He couldn’t convince himself. She was different. Her beauty was undeniable, but it was more than that. It was the way she spoke, the sharp intelligence in her eyes, the way she didn’t shy away from disagreeing with him, and yet still managed to hold his attention effortlessly.

No, this wasn’t a connection. It was a mere curiosity. That’s all it was.

But his thoughts began to betray him, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the library, having found himself on that familiar path without a second thought. He hadn’t even consciously decided to come here—his feet had simply led him, as if his body had already made the choice before his mind could catch up.

Sebastian stood at the entrance, leaning against the stone wall just outside, watching as the sun dipped lower in the sky. It had been a few days since he last saw her, and though his mind tried to rationalize the pull he felt toward her, his body betrayed him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Perhaps it was the hope that she would be there again, lost in the pages of her book, her eyes catching the light just right as she read.

He shook his head, a sharp breath escaping his lips as he tried to shake off the unease. He didn’t need to entertain these thoughts. He had a mission to complete, after all. And yet, despite all his efforts, a small part of him, one that he had not allowed to speak up in centuries, wanted to see her again.

Taking a deep breath, he walked into the library, his sharp eyes scanning the rows of bookshelves. His steps were silent as he moved through the aisles, his gaze sharp and calculating. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for exactly, but there was a part of him that couldn’t resist the possibility that she might be there, just like last time.

And then, as if the universe had granted his silent wish, he saw her. There, tucked between the aisles, her head bent over a book, completely engrossed in whatever tale she was reading. His heart—if such a thing could be called a heart—skipped a beat. She was here. Of course, she was.

Sebastian's mouth curled into a smirk, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. He approached her quietly, steps careful as he drew nearer. He didn’t want to startle her, but the truth was, he simply wanted to see if she would notice him before he made his presence known.

He watched her for a moment longer. The delicate way she held the book, her posture, the soft hum of contentment that seemed to surround her. He couldn’t help himself. She was beautiful, and more than that, she was herself—untouched by the world in a way that he couldn’t explain.

It was ridiculous. He was overthinking things. But something told him that perhaps he hadn’t yet seen the full picture.

“Back to Shakespeare, I see,” he finally said, his voice smooth, as if he’d never left. He couldn’t help but let a playful edge slip in, even as his heart thundered in his chest. “I do hope you’re not wasting your time on Romeo and Juliet again. Such a disappointing tale, don’t you think?”

The words were said with a teasing tone, but beneath it, there was something else—a challenge, a quiet invitation. He was waiting for her response. He was waiting for her to look up at him. To recognize him as the man from the other day.

He had to know if she’d remember him—or if, somehow, she’d simply moved on.

Sebastian stood there for a moment, his gaze locked on her as she looked up from her book. The light from the library’s dim lamps illuminated her features, softening the sharp angles of his own face as his eyes drank in the sight of her. She smiled, and the warmth that spread across her face was like a spark, igniting something deep within him. The feeling, uninvited and foreign, made his heart skip a beat, something he hadn’t felt in centuries. A strange warmth flooded through him, but before he could dissect it, she spoke.

"Good evening, Sebastian," she said, her voice soft, yet with a clear undertone of amusement. "I’m glad to see you again."

Her words made something inside of him stir. She was glad to see him. His chest tightened, but the thought of it irritated him just as much as it pleased him. He shouldn’t care. However he was so glad she remembered him. This was nothing. A mere encounter. But why was he so... unsettled by it?

He sighed, masking his thoughts with a dramatic scoff. "Unfortunately, you'd be disappointed to know, my dear, I am still reading Romeo and Juliet," she continued, with a slight tilt of her head, as though she were apologizing for it.

Sebastian allowed himself a dramatic pause, his lips curving into a playful smile. "You disappoint me, truly. What am I to do with you?" he said, his tone light and teasing, but there was an edge to it, something beneath the surface.

And then, as if driven by an impulse he couldn’t quite suppress, he did something he hadn’t quite planned on. Something that felt both natural and foolish all at once.

"Can I join you?" he asked, his voice lower than it had been before, more sincere. "I’d love to talk to you some more."

His question hung in the air, and for a moment, he wondered why the words had come out so easily. He wanted to join her. He wanted to be near her. But that made no sense. She was just a widow, just another woman.

She didn’t seem to notice the inner conflict swirling in his mind as she smiled brightly in response. "For sure! I’d love your company, Sebastian. It’s not often I get the company of others."

Her words should have been simple, but they hit him in a way that only deepened the sense of... want that he was trying so hard to suppress. He didn’t want to feel like this. But there it was, undeniable.

He took a seat beside her, allowing himself to settle into the quiet comfort of her presence. They didn’t speak right away, but it was enough. Just being near her, hearing her voice, it was... more than he’d expected it to be.

"Tell me," she began after a moment, breaking the silence with her usual calm intelligence. "What’s the real reason you spend so much time arguing with me about Shakespeare, Sebastian?"

He looked at her, a smirk pulling at his lips, though he couldn’t quite mask the softer expression in his eyes. "Oh, just keeping you on your toes, my dear. It’s my duty to ensure that your intellectual pursuits aren’t wasted."

She laughed lightly, and that laugh, so genuine and carefree, did something to him. Something unsettling, something he didn’t want to explore.

For the first time in a long time, Sebastian found himself wondering what it would be like to have her as a constant presence in his life. How ridiculous, how utterly human.

But there was no turning back now. He had already stepped into the web she had so effortlessly spun around him.

"Now," he said, settling back into his chair with a slight sigh. "Shall we continue our little discussion on the merits of Romeo and Juliet?"

As she sat there, poised to answer Sebastian’s question, she found herself distracted in a way she hadn’t expected. Her words caught in her throat as her eyes drifted over him, taking in the details she hadn’t allowed herself to notice before. She had known he was attractive when they first met, but now, sitting so close to him, she found herself truly studying him for the first time.

His hair was a dark, inky black, falling in slightly messy layers around his face. It was just long enough to brush against the edges of his jaw, slightly shorter in the back, creating an asymmetrical look. The bangs framed his forehead, dark and sharp, falling just over his eyes in a way that added an air of mystery. It was a striking contrast against the pale hue of his skin, which only seemed to highlight the sharpness of his features. His cheekbones were high and pronounced, the line of his jaw angular and defined—like a figure sculpted from stone.

But it was his eyes that caught her attention the most. They were unlike any eyes she had ever seen—an almost otherworldly shade of brown that shimmered with an unexpected hint of red. It was subtle, but there, and it gave his gaze a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. She couldn’t quite explain why, but it was as if he wasn’t entirely... human. Something about him felt both unnervingly strange and undeniably captivating.

Before she could stop herself, her gaze lingered on him, her thoughts running wild, her mouth forgotten. She was struck by his beauty, and the realization almost startled her. He was beyond just handsome—he was striking in a way that left her momentarily speechless.

Sebastian noticed her staring, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, a playful look in his eyes as he leaned back slightly in his chair, clearly aware of the effect he was having on her.

"You’re staring, my dear," he said, his voice low, amused. "Is something on my face?"

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink, realizing she had been caught. She quickly averted her gaze, slightly embarrassed. "I—I apologize," she stammered, her voice a little more flustered than she intended. "I was... distracted. Yes, yes, Romeo and Juliet."

Her words came out in a rush, as if she were trying to cover up the momentary lapse in her composure. She couldn’t help but feel the lingering effect of his presence, clouding her thoughts in a way she didn’t expect.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest as he considered her words. "Well, we already know my opinion on that book," he said with a touch of indifference, his eyes glinting as he met her gaze. "But I have yet to ask you... what about it intrigues you so much?"

She smiled, her lips curling into a playful grin. "Hmm, I guess I'm a hopeless romantic," she said, her voice light. "And I enjoy reading books that make me sad," she added with a laugh.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his gaze curious yet skeptical. "You enjoy being sad?" he asked, leaning forward slightly, intrigued by her admission. "No one enjoys being sad."

She shrugged with a soft smile, her eyes reflecting a deeper, more thoughtful mood. "It's almost like a rush—similar to adrenaline, but with emotion instead, if that makes sense."

He furrowed his brow, attempting to comprehend her words, but something about it felt... foreign to him. He'd never experienced emotions the way humans did, never felt the rush of sadness as she described it. "Hmm, I can understand what you're saying, my dear," he replied slowly, "but I can't say I've experienced it for myself. I guess I look at things from more of a logistical standpoint." He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Two teenagers getting married a day after meeting each other... One of which was only fourteen," he chuckled, the humor tinged with disbelief. "And then they kill themselves not long after. It just seems ridiculous and unrealistic."

She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "You don’t believe in young love?" she asked, her voice soft but genuine.

He paused, his gaze drifting away from her for a moment as if considering the weight of her question. Then, his eyes returned to hers with an unflinching certainty. "No, my dear. As we discussed before, I believe love is just a hormonal thing. I don’t believe love itself is real."

The words hung in the air between them, and to his surprise, he saw the slight downturn of her lips. It made something inside of him stir—an uncomfortable feeling that gnawed at him. Her frown was subtle, but it felt... significant. She was disappointed. The realization hit him harder than he expected, and an unfamiliar sensation settled deep in his chest, something close to guilt. It felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

She cleared her throat softly and spoke, her tone quiet, almost wistful. "Hmm, that's a sad way to think," she said. "But it's understandable. It’s a dark world."

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t understand it. Why did her disappointment matter so much? Why did her sadness stir something in him that was so foreign? He quickly tried to change the subject, not wanting to linger on the matter any longer.

"So, tell me," he said with an abrupt shift in tone, "what other books do you enjoy? Surely there’s more to your reading habits than tragic love stories." He attempted a casual smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was as if he was trying to push the discomfort away, but in doing so, he felt a strange tension still hanging in the air.

"Well, I read a lot of Jane Austen," she continued, a twinkle in her eyes. "I like Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Emma, Mansfield Park, and Jack and Alice."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the mention of Jack and Alice, intrigued. But before he could inquire further, he couldn't help but smirk, leaning back slightly in his chair. "My, you really are a hopeless romantic," he said, his tone slightly disappointed, but more bemused. "I haven’t read any Jane Austen books myself, but I’m planning on it now. Perhaps we’ll have something to discuss in our next meeting." He paused, watching her closely for her reaction. "Have you read Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë?"

She nodded enthusiastically, her smile widening. "Yes! I love that book. It’s a good romance."

Sebastian’s lips twisted slightly in distaste as he crossed his arms. "I actually thought Rochester was a lowlife. He treated Jane so poorly for most of the book."

She tilted her head, considering his words for a moment before responding with a calm and thoughtful tone. "Hmm, I felt as though he redeemed himself at the end of the book."

Sebastian let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "Mmm, he was a swine. Really messed with the woman’s head through the whole book. I can’t fathom how anyone could find that romantic."

She laughed lightly, the sound ringing through the quiet space between them. "You have quite the opinion on Rochester," she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Sebastian met her gaze, trying to mask the strange flutter of his chest that came from the sound of her laughter. "I do indeed," he said with a smirk. "I suppose that’s what happens when one is skeptical of love."

She smiled, the warmth in her eyes a contrast to his more guarded expression. "Well, I do insist that you read Jane Austen's works," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Specifically Pride and Prejudice. Maybe the characters' dynamic might change your opinion on love."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint, almost reluctant smile. "Hmm, I doubt that, my dear," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "But if you insist, I will read it... for you, dear."

Her eyes sparkled, clearly pleased by his response. "I’ll hold you to that, Sebastian," she teased, her tone light yet with an undercurrent of something deeper. "It could be interesting to see how you interpret it."

He looked at her, the weight of her gaze unexpectedly making him pause. For a brief moment, something flickered in his chest, an unfamiliar sensation that was hard to place. He quickly masked it, returning to his usual indifference. "We shall see," he replied, his voice steady, though a hint of something more lingered beneath the surface.

She laughed softly, clearly enjoying their playful exchange. "It’s a deal then," she said, her smile bright and knowing. "Perhaps we’ll have much more to discuss next time."

"Next time." The thought lingered in his mind, and despite how much he tried to suppress it, a smile tugged at his lips. He hated that he wanted to see her again. It was inconvenient. He was supposed to be detached, unemotional, but here he was, sitting next to her in a library, curious about every little thing she said, feeling something he couldn't quite place.

"What's your favorite color, Y/N?" he asked, almost absentmindedly as he tried to keep his composure.

"Hmmm, I'd have to say crimson red," she replied, a soft smile playing on her lips, "Or black."

Sebastian felt a surge of warmth he didn't expect. Crimson red? It was a specific choice, and it caught him off guard, almost like it was meant just for her. "Why those?" he asked, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself. "Those are my favorites as well. Crimson red is a very specific choice. Do you have many dresses in that color?"

"I do," she said with a playful glint in her eye. "And I'm continuing to have several made."

His heart thudded against his chest. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of her in crimson red... well, it made him feel something he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. And then, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. "You'd look nice in red."

The air between them seemed to shift, and for a moment, time slowed. She blinked, her face suddenly flushed. "Why...?" Her voice was soft, almost tentative.

"Mm... thank you," she said, her cheeks deepening in color as she blushed. The way she looked at him, caught off guard by the compliment, made him feel more than just flustered. It was a rare feeling—vulnerable, maybe.

He quickly cleared his throat, his usual indifference taking over again as he leaned back in his chair. "No need to thank me," he said with a casual shrug. "Just a simple observation."

But deep down, he couldn't deny it. He wanted to see her in that crimson dress. The thought of it sent a strange, unfamiliar feeling rushing through him again, and he had to fight the urge to lean forward and learn more. She was an enigma he couldn't quite figure out... and, despite himself, he wanted to keep unraveling it.

Sebastian’s heart raced in a way that surprised him. He had always been good at keeping his emotions hidden, his demeanor cold and distant. Yet, here he was, sitting beside this woman, practically hanging on every word she said, feeling an unfamiliar warmth spread through him.

"My dear," he began, leaning slightly toward her, his voice soft but sincere, "I want to know more about you. Do you play any instruments?"

She looked up at him, her eyes bright with a spark of something he couldn't quite decipher. "Yes, I play the piano. I've been told I'm quite good," she replied with a modest smile. "I can also play the harp, though I'm not perfect at it."

Sebastian smiled, genuinely impressed. He had always respected those with talents, but something about her ability to speak so casually about these skills made her even more intriguing. "Impressive," he said, his voice laced with admiration. "And you play both so well?"

"Well," she chuckled, "I do try."

He couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of awe. It wasn’t just her musical ability—it was her grace, the way she spoke, the way she carried herself. There was a depth to her, something beyond the simple surface that so many others had.

"And you, Sebastian?" she asked, her gaze gentle but probing, curious. "Do you play any instruments?"

"Why, yes, I play the violin," he replied smoothly, his voice betraying just a hint of pride.

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of something in them—something between admiration and perhaps a little envy. "I’m jealous," she said, the words light but genuine. "I want to learn the violin. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through his usual composure. "I could teach you..." he said, his voice almost too quiet, as though he hadn’t fully realized what he’d just offered.

Her eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. She blinked, as if trying to process what he had just said. "You... you’d teach me?" She smiled softly, a hint of playful disbelief in her expression. "I’d like that."

Sebastian felt his heart race again, but this time it wasn’t just the usual detached curiosity. No, this time, it was something deeper. Something that made him question his own motives, his own desires. He wanted to be close to her, to know more about her. The idea of teaching her, of spending more time together, was not one he had expected, but now that it had crossed his mind, he couldn’t shake the thought.

"Perhaps," he said with a small, almost teasing smile, "I’ll even play a piece for you. A song to inspire your violin learning."

She laughed lightly, the sound like music to his ears. "That would be a very special piece, Sebastian. I’ll hold you to that."

Sebastian leaned back, feeling a mix of satisfaction and confusion. He was still trying to make sense of what was happening between them. All he knew was that he didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted to know everything about her, and he would stop at nothing to make that happen.

Sebastian felt an odd sense of urgency as the evening stretched on, the hours slipping away unnoticed. When he glanced at the clock, he realized how late it had gotten. The realization hit him, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

"Well, Belladonna, it’s getting late," he said, his voice smooth, yet with an unexpected tenderness. The nickname—he didn't even know where it had come from. "I didn’t allow you to walk home alone the first time we met, and now that I’ve gotten to know you more, I especially cannot allow you to walk home alone tonight. May I accompany you once again, dear?"

Y/N blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected nickname, but she didn’t seem displeased. Instead, she smiled warmly, a soft, genuine smile that tugged at something deep inside him.

"I don’t see why not," she said, her voice light, almost teasing.

Sebastian stood up first, his movements smooth and purposeful. He offered her his hand, a gesture that he hadn’t planned but now couldn’t seem to resist. She seemed surprised at first, looking at his hand, but after a brief moment, she accepted it, her fingers gently brushing against his as he helped her to her feet.

Her skin was warm against his, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a faint blush spread across her cheeks. His heart skipped a beat, but he quickly masked it with a smile.

"Shall we make our leave?" he asked, his voice cool, but there was an undeniable softness in it. He couldn’t help but be drawn to her, and now, more than ever, he wanted to be close to her.

Y/N smiled again, her eyes locking with his, and with a slight nod, she said, "Lead the way, Sebastian."

As they stepped out of the library together, something about the evening felt different—more significant than the countless nights he’d spent walking alone or with mere acquaintances. But tonight, walking beside her, something in him wanted this moment to last just a little longer.

As they walked under the dim glow of the streetlamps, Sebastian found himself unsettled by an unfamiliar sensation tugging at the edges of his thoughts. It was subtle, but it was there—a nagging feeling he couldn’t quite place. After a moment of silence, he broke it with a question, his tone calm but probing.

"Do you often walk home alone this late?" he asked, his sharp crimson-tinted gaze flickering toward her.

Y/N answered without much thought, her tone casual. "Oh, yes. I walk home alone a lot. I don’t have any friends to—"

Before she could finish, Sebastian cut her off, his voice sharper than he intended. "I would prefer if you didn’t walk home alone at night anymore."

His sudden change in tone startled her, and she turned to look at him, confused. "Oh? And why is that?"

He stopped walking, his expression unreadable, though his jaw tightened as he searched for the right words. "Because," he began, his voice lowering, "as I’ve told you before, there are too many creeps wandering about at night. And I…" He hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing, "I’m growing to like you, Y/N, and I’d hate for something to happen to you."

Y/N’s eyes widened, her cheeks warming at his unexpected confession. Before she could respond, he added, his tone firm, "I’m busy a lot during the day, but if you’re walking home late in the evening, I will make time to escort you. No exceptions."

Sebastian wasn’t sure why he said it, why he was suddenly so insistent. He didn’t do things unless there was something in it for him—something to gain. And yet, here he was, offering his time and effort for nothing in return. It was irrational, inexplicable, and it irritated him to no end. But at the same time, he couldn’t stand the thought of her walking these streets alone.

Y/N smiled softly, her expression a mix of surprise and warmth. "That’s very kind of you, Sebastian. I’ll take you up on that."

He nodded curtly, his usual composure returning, though inside, the confusion only deepened. Why did he care so much? Why did it bother him to think of her walking these streets alone? The questions swirled in his mind, but he pushed them aside, focusing instead on the quiet sound of her footsteps beside his. For now, that was enough.

As they continued their walk, Y/N found herself lost in thought, her cheeks still warm from Sebastian’s unexpected confession. He wasn’t following her anymore. Instead, he had taken the lead, confidently guiding the way.

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what that meant. He had only walked her home once, a few nights ago, and yet he remembered the way. The idea of him recalling such a small detail flustered her. It was unexpected, especially from someone like him—so composed, so seemingly indifferent.

"You remembered the way to my house?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with surprise.

Sebastian glanced back at her, a faint, almost amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Of course, my dear. I don’t forget things easily," he said matter-of-factly, though there was an undeniable warmth in his tone.

Y/N’s steps faltered for a moment as she tried to process the strange mix of emotions swirling within her. There was something undeniably comforting about the idea that he had paid attention, that he had remembered. And yet, it only flustered her further, making her wonder just how much this enigmatic man truly noticed about her.

As they walked, Sebastian’s hand brushed against hers. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand in his. It was a casual gesture—or so he told himself. Handholding was such a trivial human custom, wasn’t it? Surely, it was meaningless. Just a sign of friendliness. That’s all it was.

And yet, his chest tightened the moment their fingers intertwined. The warmth of her hand in his was... different. Unfamiliar. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it left him feeling something he couldn’t quite define. Flustered, perhaps? Was this what humans felt when they experienced embarrassment or shame? It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as those emotions, but it was unnerving in its own way.

He glanced down at their joined hands, then up at her face. She hadn’t pulled away. Instead, she seemed just as flustered as he felt, her cheeks tinged pink in the glow of the streetlights. Her lips parted slightly, as if she was about to say something, but no words came.

He cleared his throat, attempting to reassert control over his spiraling thoughts. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, his voice low and smooth, betraying none of his inner turmoil. “It’s easier to ensure your safety this way.”

Y/N blinked up at him, clearly caught off guard by the gesture. “No, I don’t mind,” she murmured, her voice soft. “It’s… nice.”

Her words sent another strange jolt through him, and he tightened his grip on her hand without realizing it. Nice. Was that what this was? Could something so simple feel so inexplicably... nice? He shook the thought from his head, focusing instead on the path ahead. It was just handholding. Nothing more. Nothing less. Or so he tried to convince himself.

As they walked side by side, Sebastian’s gaze drifted down to her. For the first time, he truly noticed how much smaller she was compared to him. Her steps were shorter, her frame delicate next to his own. The realization caught him off guard, as it hadn’t even crossed his mind the night he had first escorted her home. Now, though, it seemed glaringly obvious. It stirred something unfamiliar within him—a quiet, instinctive need to shield her, to keep her safe.

But it wasn’t the same as his duty to Ciel. That was purely transactional. He protected Ciel because it served his ultimate purpose: the boy’s soul. That was a contract. A means to an end.

This, though... this was different. There was no contract here. No reward waiting at the end of the road. It wasn’t even clear what she could offer him that he would desire—her soul, perhaps? He considered the thought briefly, his mind brushing against the possibility like a fleeting shadow.

Did he want her soul? Maybe. No... Wait.

He frowned slightly, his thoughts twisting. No, he didn’t know. And that in itself was perplexing. She had no leverage over him, no deal to be made, no gain to be had. Yet here he was, walking her home, holding her hand, ensuring her safety for no reason other than... what? He couldn’t explain it. And, for the first time in what felt like centuries, he wasn’t sure he cared to.

The silence between them was comfortable, and her smaller hand in his felt oddly grounding. He glanced at her again, noting the way she seemed so at ease in his presence despite his true nature. Something about that unsettled him—and yet, at the same time, it didn’t. It made no sense. None of this did. And yet, it was beginning to matter less and less.

As they reached the front of her estate, Sebastian felt an unfamiliar ache in his chest, a strange weight that he couldn’t shake. He frowned. What is this nonsense? he thought bitterly. The realization that he didn’t want this walk to end gnawed at him, and it was maddening. Pathetic, he scolded himself. Absolutely pathetic. You’re a demon, for God’s sake. You’re not supposed to feel like this.

And yet, when they stopped at her door, his hand remained firmly around hers. He didn’t want to let go. Her warmth, her presence—it was addicting in a way that frustrated him beyond measure.

“Sebastian,” she giggled, her voice breaking through his internal turmoil. “You’re going to have to let go of my hand if you want me to go inside.”

He blinked, caught off guard, before quickly releasing her hand. “Ah, my apologies,” he said smoothly, though his tone betrayed the slight hesitation he felt.

She smiled warmly, turning to open her door, but just before stepping inside, she paused. Without warning, she leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said, her voice light and sincere. “Have a good night.”

Sebastian froze. For a moment, it felt as if the world had stopped turning. His eyes widened ever so slightly as heat rushed to his face—an alien sensation he didn’t know how to process. He cleared his throat, struggling to maintain his usual composure.

“Good night, dear,” he managed to say, his voice quieter than usual. Without another word, he turned and walked away, his steps quicker than before, his thoughts a chaotic mess.

Wide-eyed, he touched his cheek where her lips had been. A smile threatened to pull at the corners of his mouth, but he forced it down.

Ridiculous, he thought to himself, though the warmth lingering on his cheek begged to differ.

Tags list (let me know if you wanna go on it)

@canigotosleep--plz @haruhatake @hargun-s @tibibibi123 @anemo-fandango @mistymuii @moonchhu @vamqyx @starlightanyaaa @sillysushi @itsafairytalekay @dekusdante @yumii-34 @eis1kitsune

[strawberrygirll13]

I care about you

Dazai x Reader

Pt 1

Warnings: Depression, self harm, mentions of suicide attempts, mental illness.

The restaurant was quiet, save for the occasional clinking of plates and murmurs of other diners. Candlelight flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the table. Across from you, Dazai sat back in his chair, his arm lazily draped over the backrest, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You know,” he started, swirling the wine in his glass, “if this steak were my last meal, I think I’d die happy.”

You set your fork down, a sense of unease already creeping in. “Dazai…”

He didn’t seem to notice the warning in your voice, his eyes gleaming with something darker. “But,” he continued, his voice calm, “if I were to go, I’d want it to be something more dramatic. Something… poetic. Maybe a leap into a river. Or from a high-rise at sunset. You know, something that would leave an impression.”

You couldn’t keep the tension from building in your chest. “Dazai, I really don’t like it when you talk like that.”

He paused for a moment, the grin still playing on his lips. “Oh? Why not?” he said, tilting his head, seemingly unfazed. “It’s the truth. I’ve tried a few things, you know.”

Your fingers tightened around your napkin, and you felt a cold chill run through you. “What do you mean ‘tried a few things’?”

Dazai leaned forward, his gaze sharp as he looked directly at you. “Well, let me think... I’ve tried hanging myself, drowning myself—Yokohama Harbor, to be exact. It was freezing, but strangely peaceful. I really thought it would work that time. But no, a fisherman pulled me out before I could go under for good.” He chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pathetic, huh?”

You felt your heart drop, but he kept going, unperturbed. “I also tried jumping in front of a train once. The timing was all wrong, though. I only got clipped, nothing serious. And then there was the time I tried poisoning myself, but the drink was too weak. Didn’t do the job. But you know, the one that came closest? Cutting my wrists. I really thought that one would do it. I got pretty close, but again, I ended up surviving.”

Each attempt, each method, he listed it so casually, as if they were simple anecdotes, nothing more than stories to amuse himself. The weight of his words pressed down on you, suffocating, until you couldn’t breathe. You felt a mix of disgust and helplessness, your stomach twisting in knots. This wasn’t just dark humor; this was the product of something deeper, something broken. And it was eating at him.

“Dazai,” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, stop. I don’t want to hear this. This isn’t funny.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by your reaction. “Why not?” he asked, genuinely curious. “It’s just a little dark humor. Surely you, of all people, aren’t disturbed by some harmless stories?”

“Harmless?” You stood up abruptly, unable to sit through it any longer. “It’s cruel. It’s wrong. I don’t know why you think this is okay, but it’s not. I care about you, Dazai, and hearing you talk like this…” You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “It makes me feel awful. Can you not see that?”

He looked at you for a long moment, his smile never wavering, though his eyes were colder than usual. “Cruel?” he repeated, amusement still in his tone. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not as though anyone would care if I actually died, anyway. Hell, the world would probably be better off without me. It’s not like I have anyone who would mourn me.”

You shook your head, a knot forming in your throat. This wasn’t just about his words anymore; it was about the way he saw himself. The way he thought of his life as something so expendable.

"And you know," he added, almost as an afterthought, "I’ve been thinking about finding a beautiful woman to share my final moments with. Someone who wouldn’t mind a little poetic death. I’ve been looking for someone who’d be willing to… you know, commit double suicide with me. My dear friend, you’d do perfectly." His grin was wider now, predatory, and it made your skin crawl.

You stared at him, unable to process how casually he could say something so horrifying. “Why would you say that to me? Why would you ask me something like that?”

He laughed, but it was an empty, hollow sound. “Why? Because you’re one of the few people I actually respect. I thought you’d find the idea appealing. You’re beautiful, aren’t you? You would make a perfect match for me in the end.”

Your hands shook at your sides, but you didn’t back down. “No, Dazai. No. I don’t find any of this funny. You’ve made me so uncomfortable tonight, and you did it on purpose, didn’t you? You wanted to make me feel bad. Well, congratulations, you’ve succeeded.”

He blinked at you, for the first time showing a crack in his indifference, his smirk faltering for a split second as he processed your words. But before he could respond, you turned and grabbed your coat, slipping it over your shoulders.

“I’m leaving,” you said, your voice firm but quiet.

Dazai didn’t say anything. He just watched as you moved toward the door, his gaze unreadable. The air between you had shifted, and you couldn’t quite understand it, but you knew one thing for certain: You couldn’t sit there and let him pull you into his darkness.

With one last glance at him, you stepped out into the cold night air, the weight of the conversation lingering with you, but you didn’t turn back.

The days following that tense dinner were markedly different. You kept your interactions with Dazai strictly professional, your usual casual conversations replaced with curt, pointed words. Whenever a task required communication, you went through others—Kunikida, Atsushi, anyone else who could serve as a buffer between you and him. Dazai, however, wasn’t one to let things go unnoticed, especially when they disrupted his carefully cultivated routines.

You knew he’d noticed the shift—he wasn’t an idiot. But instead of apologizing or addressing it directly, he chose his usual route: mischief.

It started small. A sly remark here, an exaggerated sigh there. When you ignored those, he ramped it up. During one meeting, he’d kept dropping pens onto your side of the table, leaning over to retrieve them with the kind of smug grin that made you want to throttle him. When you didn’t react, his antics escalated.

The breaking point came one quiet afternoon when you returned to your desk only to find his desk… wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

He’d moved it.

Right in front of yours, so close the two desks were now touching, effectively making it one long, cluttered mess of books, papers, and his personal junk. Your side was spotless, as always, but his was overflowing—documents spilling over onto your workspace, a half-eaten bag of snacks perched precariously on the edge, and his coat draped lazily over your chair.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the absurdity before you, willing yourself to stay calm.

“Do you mind?” you finally asked, your voice cold as you folded your arms.

Dazai, leaning back in his chair with a lopsided grin, didn’t miss a beat. “Not at all. Cozy, isn’t it?”

“It’s not cozy,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes. “It’s invasive. Move your desk back.”

“But I like it here,” he replied, spinning his pen between his fingers. “Better lighting. Better company. Well... not bettercompany, but you’re here, so it’ll do.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to rise to the bait. Instead, you sat down, pushed his papers to the far edge of your desk, and went back to your work.

This didn’t deter him in the slightest. Over the next hour, he kept finding ways to encroach on your space—tossing paperclips onto your side, humming loudly, even nudging your coffee mug with his own until it was teetering dangerously close to the edge.

Finally, when it seemed like he might actually topple it over, you shot him a glare. “If you spill that, I swear—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, leaning in closer. “Yell at me? Ignore me some more? I think you’ve got the ignoring part down pretty well already.”

You didn’t respond, turning back to your work with tight-lipped determination.

His frustration, though, was becoming harder for him to hide. You could see it in the way he kept drumming his fingers on the desk, in the exaggerated way he sighed every five minutes, in the way his usual lazy demeanor seemed a little too deliberate, like he was trying too hard to act like this wasn’t bothering him.

And then, he started writing notes.

At first, he didn’t even try to be subtle about it. He scribbled something down on a piece of paper, folded it neatly, and slid it onto your side of the desk.

You ignored it.

A second note followed, then a third. You didn’t open any of them, and the more you ignored them, the more frustrated he seemed to become.

By the fourth note, he didn’t even bother folding it anymore. Instead, he scrawled the words in large, dramatic letters across a sheet of paper and held it up directly in your line of sight.

“ARE YOU STILL MAD?”

You didn’t look at him, but he kept the note there until you finally sighed and muttered, “Yes.”

He blinked, clearly not expecting an actual answer. Then, with a grin, he grabbed another sheet of paper and scribbled again. This time, he slid it across the desk to you.

“WHY?”

You stared at the note for a moment before crumpling it up and tossing it back at him. “You know why,” you said, your voice quiet but firm.

For once, he didn’t have a quick retort. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his grin faltering ever so slightly as he watched you go back to your work.

But, true to form, he didn’t stay quiet for long. Moments later, another note landed on your desk.

“CAN I MAKE IT UP TO YOU?”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t trust yourself to, not yet. And so, the silence between you stretched on, heavy and unresolved, while Dazai sat across from you, bored, frustrated, and—if the look in his eyes was any indication—just a little bit lost.

The silence between you two stretched unbearably as Dazai fidgeted with his pen, occasionally glancing at you, though you didn’t spare him a single look. Despite his antics, you were determined to hold your ground. He deserved to stew in this. To feel the weight of your anger and hurt.

Yet, as the minutes ticked by and the tension grew thicker, you found yourself caving. Not entirely, but enough for curiosity to override your stubbornness. With a sigh, you picked up your pen and scribbled something on a piece of paper, sliding it over to him without looking up.

“Did you mean it?”

Dazai, for once, didn’t respond immediately. You heard the faint rustle of the note as he picked it up, followed by a pause. Then, slowly, he scrawled something down and pushed it back toward you.

“Mean what?”

You stared at the words for a moment before writing again.

“That you want me to die with you?”

When you slid the note back, you refused to meet his gaze, your fingers gripping your pen tightly as you waited for his response. The air between you felt suffocating, heavy with the unspoken weight of the question.

It took him longer this time. You heard the soft scratching of his pen as he wrote, then paused, then wrote again. Finally, the note landed back in front of you.

“Yes.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at the single word, simple and honest in a way Dazai rarely allowed himself to be. When you finally looked up at him, his expression was unreadable, his usual playful grin replaced by something quieter, something that almost looked like vulnerability.

“I wasn’t joking,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “Not entirely, at least.”

Your throat felt dry, and you weren’t sure what to say. For all the times Dazai hid behind humor, behind his endless games and tricks, hearing him admit something so dark, so raw, left you momentarily at a loss.

“Why?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, though the motion felt forced, his usual air of nonchalance cracking at the edges. “Because if I had to go, at least with you… it wouldn’t feel so empty. It’d be poetic, don’t you think? Two kindred spirits, disappearing together.”

“That’s not poetic, Dazai,” you said firmly, anger creeping into your voice. “It’s selfish. It’s—” You stopped yourself, exhaling sharply. “It’s cruel that you would suggest that.”

His lips quirked up in a half-smile, but there was no humor behind it. “I told you, I’m a selfish man. You should know that by now.”

Your eyes narrowed, but you didn’t reply. Instead, you leaned back in your chair, the note still clutched tightly in your hand, as the weight of his words settled over you.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Dazai,” you began, folding the note neatly and placing it in front of him, “but unfortunately, I do not want to die. And I’d prefer it if you could refrain from doing so either.”

You stood up, your chair scraping against the floor as you grabbed your bag. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

But before you could take a step, his hand shot out, quick and instinctive, his bandaged wrist wrapping firmly around yours. It wasn’t harsh or forceful, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks.

“What the hell?” you blurted, glancing down at his hand, then back at him.

For the first time since the conversation began, he looked genuinely caught off guard. His grip on your wrist wasn’t calculated; it was almost desperate, as though the very thought of you leaving—even temporarily—was unbearable.

“I… You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his tone lighter than his expression betrayed. But the crack in his voice, subtle as it was, didn’t escape you.

Your brow furrowed. “Dazai, I work here. I’m just going to the bathroom. I’m not running off into the sunset. Good god, you have issues.”

His lips curved into a faint smirk, but it lacked his usual humor. “Issues? That’s putting it lightly, don’t you think?” He released your wrist, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before he let it drop back to his side. “I guess I just don’t like the idea of you walking away from me… even if it’s just to the restroom.”

“Dazai,” you sighed, softening your tone despite yourself, “I’m not leaving you. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through them before his usual mask slipped back into place. “Promise?” he asked, leaning back in his chair with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You gave him a flat look. “I’m not promising anything. It’s a bathroom break, not a grand betrayal.”

But as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the weight of his touch—or the way his voice had faltered, even for just a second. Something about it lingered, clawing at the edges of your mind like an unanswered question you weren’t sure you were ready to ask.

A few hours later ~

The office was quiet now, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall and the rustling of papers as you gathered your things. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of a single desk lamp. You glanced over at him. His desk—still obnoxiously pressed against yours—was cluttered with papers he hadn’t touched all day. He’d sat there for hours, throwing the occasional quip your way, but you hadn’t said much in return.

It wasn’t just the silence that made the air feel heavy; it was the weight of his words from earlier. He wanted you to die with him. The thought lingered, intrusive and stubborn, no matter how much you tried to shove it aside. You couldn’t understand how he’d asked you something so selfishly, so casually, as if it were just another joke in his endless repertoire.

Shaking your head, you slid your bag over your shoulder and moved toward the door. You didn’t bother to say goodbye.

“Wait,” his voice called out, stopping you mid-step. You turned to find him standing now, hands stuffed into his pockets as he leaned against the edge of the desk.

“What is it, Dazai?” you asked, your voice tinged with exhaustion.

“Let me walk you home,” he said, straightening up and taking a step closer.

You blinked at him, the question catching you off guard. “Are you going to say some weird shit?”

His mouth quirked into a half-smile, though it lacked the usual cockiness. “You know, probably. I mean, it’s me.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were suddenly unsure of himself. “But… I won’t ask you to, you know, do that with me again. Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers in mock sincerity.

You narrowed your eyes, considering him for a moment. “Fine,” you said finally, letting out a small sigh. “But only if you promise.”

“Promise,” he repeated, a flicker of amusement returning to his voice.

As you pushed open the door and stepped into the cool night air, he fell into step beside you. Something about the way he kept just a half step behind, letting you set the pace, felt quieter than usual—almost careful. It wasn’t like him. Then again, nothing about today had been.

The street was quiet as you and Dazai walked down the path, the only sounds being the soft crunch of your footsteps against the pavement and the occasional rustling of leaves in the trees. The streetlamps above flickered on, casting a dim, golden light that illuminated the sidewalk in a soft, almost melancholic glow. The night air was cool, a refreshing change from the stuffy office, and you relished the brief quiet that came with the walk.

You didn't mind walking. You’d never been one to rely on a car, especially when the journey gave you a little peace of mind. Besides, the apartment was only about a 20-minute walk away, and you had plenty of time to clear your head. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

As you walked in silence, your thoughts wandered. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and Dazai today. His words from earlier still echoed in your mind, but it wasn’t just that. Something about his behavior had felt off—a bit too distant, a bit too… real.

It was strange, but despite everything, you couldn't deny you had feelings for him. Not that you really had a choice, considering how often you saw each other. But you were realistic about it. The idea of him ever feeling the same was almost laughable. He was too much of a mess, too much of a broken puzzle for you to figure out. And even if he did have feelings for you, you weren’t sure it was something you could trust.

The walk continued in silence, and you pulled your coat tighter around you, keeping your thoughts to yourself. But then, without warning, Dazai held out his arm for you.

At first, you were confused. You didn't know what he meant by the gesture. But when he huffed, his voice edged with a hint of impatience, “Come on, I’m not going to bite you,” you could feel a wave of hesitation wash over you.

Before you could respond, he looped his arm through yours, locking it there with a firm but gentle grip. It surprised you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. For a moment, you just walked, trying to process what had just happened.

As you did, your gaze slipped over to him. The soft glow of the streetlights caught his brown hair, highlighting the faint tousled mess of it. You’d always admired the way it looked, even when he didn’t seem to care much about it. You wondered, though, how much of his body was covered in bandages. His neck and wrist were always covered, but what about the rest of him? Did he hide it under those clothes, or was there more to it?

The thought made a knot form in your stomach, and you quickly shoved it away. You hated the idea of him harming himself. The thought made your chest tighten, and you didn’t want to think about it—not now, not here, not with him.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” Dazai’s voice broke the silence, his tone casual, though there was an edge to it.

You looked up at him, startled, but there was a strange softness in his expression that made you pause.

“Nothing,” you muttered, not wanting to admit to the tangled thoughts swirling in your head. “Just... you know, thinking about work.”

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Really?" he teased, but there was something more guarded in his eyes now. "Because you seem distracted."

You went quiet, your eyes shifting away from his, not wanting to meet his gaze anymore. The cool night air suddenly felt too heavy as the silence between you both stretched on.

Dazai noticed immediately, his pace slowing as he watched the subtle tension build. He didn’t push it at first, but after a few moments, he muttered, almost absentmindedly, “I hate how you don’t let me into your head.” His voice had a quiet frustration in it, like a gnawing irritation that wouldn't let go.

You stiffened, the words from earlier still replaying in your mind. You knew he wasn’t going to drop it, not without pushing the issue. You didn’t want to discuss it, but you couldn’t stay silent either. "Well, it’s kinda difficult to let someone in who has basically said in their own way they want me dead." You kept your voice steady, trying not to let the vulnerability slip through.

The words hung in the air, and Dazai didn’t immediately respond. His arm, still locked with yours, shifted slightly as if he were considering his words carefully.

Then, he spoke. "Y/N, my darling, you and I have two very different perspectives on death." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle between you. "To explain it in the simplest terms, despite how morbid it may seem to you... it is a compliment."

His tone was strange, detached, but also oddly earnest. It was as if he truly believed that what he was saying made sense. And for a moment, you wondered if he even understood how much his words stung.

You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed quiet, your steps slowing to match his. The city seemed farther away now, the night air colder.

"It doesn’t matter how you intended it, Dazai," you said, your voice firm but not unkind. "You are not well. The way you think… it’s all twisted."

Dazai let out a laugh, sharp and self-deprecating. "Oh, I’m very aware," he said with a smirk, though his eyes betrayed something softer, something less cavalier.

The rest of the walk passed in silence. He didn’t let go of your arm, keeping it interlocked with his, as though he feared letting go would shatter whatever fragile thing existed between you both. The city lights grew sparse as you reached your apartment building, and he walked you right up to your doorstep. Even then, his arm stayed linked with yours, his grip firm but not forceful, as if he wasn’t ready to let you go.

Dazai finally stopped, taking a deep breath. His hesitation was unusual, almost unsettling. "Can I ask you something?" he said, his voice softer than usual.

You sighed, fishing your keys out of your pocket. "I’m not going to say no, am I?"

He smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "When you say you care about me… do you mean it?"

You froze, caught off guard by the question. He wasn’t playing this time. There was no sly grin, no teasing inflection. His eyes, brown and deep as they were, searched yours with an almost childlike vulnerability.

"For someone as smart as you are, you’re being quite moronic right now," you said, your voice gentler than your words. His expression shifted slightly—confused, maybe even a little hurt. You softened, letting out a breath. "Of course I care about you, Dazai. I care about you a lot."

He blinked, processing your words, before making a quiet "Oh-ohh" sound, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the information. It was such a Dazai thing to do that it made you smile despite yourself.

Sliding your key into the lock, you turned it and pushed the door open. But before stepping inside, you hesitated. Something tugged at you, a feeling you couldn’t quite ignore.

"Oh, hell, screw it," you muttered under your breath before turning back around. Gently, you reached up and cupped his face, your fingers brushing against the bandages on his cheek. His eyes widened slightly as you leaned in, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his irises, and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips.

When you pulled back, his expression was one of pure shock. His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. You gave him a small smile, your hands still resting against his cheeks.

"Why don’t you think on that, Osamu Dazai," you said, your tone light but meaningful. Then, pulling away, you stepped inside and closed the door behind you with a quiet click.

For a long moment, Dazai stood there on your doorstep, the night air brushing against his face, his lips still tingling from the kiss. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile curved across his face—one that no one else would have recognized.

[strawberrygirll13]

Helooo my name is Strawberry 🍓

You can call me Berry <3

Im 20 years old 🫶🏻

I love Gojo, Choso, and Dazai (a little too much hehe)

I’d love to make friends 🥹

I write fics 🤭