#♞| queued goodness

[charredchesspiece]

Wish’s attempt at blending in is quite... an attempt, to say the least. There is nothing he can say on the matter; she could don a filthy burlap sack on her head and something pretty would shine through anyway, so Sebastian bites his cheek at the way the pitch fabric becomes her form. What is it they say about black attire? It slims, pronounces curves. What a bother.

The urge to respond bitterly that he has started his day some tine ago, lip curled to flash a stinging canine, is nigh undeniable. Sarcasm is an addictive spice, but a simple “We shall,” is all the butler can say. Where this sudden bout of taciturnity originates from, the butler cannot pinpoint. Should this unsettle him? After all, rarely is he at a loss for words, especially when it comes to tormenting the Nephilim.

Great. As if he needed something else to mindlessly obsess over.

“Of course, it is best to not wake the rest of the household just yet,” Sebastian amends, although it goes without saying. The sky may be turning blue, but it is far too early for humans to function sensibly, let alone blithely. “For now, we should prepare the meals for today and finish the tidying. We must have this place spick-and-span before our horror arrives.”

When you don’t need to sleep (or if you cannot muster the courage to try), there will always be some task waiting to be fulfilled. Sebastian has completed much of the food prep already, and he always tidies as he goes, but the work of a Phantomhive servant is never ending. He has done it all on his own before—he likes it that way—but Wish’s presence has changed the game considerably. Although vexing, the Nephilim’s competency lifts a burden off his shoulders he never thought he’d have to share.

She lost the breath she was holding as soon as Sebastian left the room, not wasting any time to go and lock the door herself. He could be tricky in some manners, but the lack of anything from him about her state of undress was a surprise. Tossing the blanket back over the bed, Wish took an extra moment of delay to put her bed back to a picture perfect state as it was before she went to bed the night before. There was silent satisfaction from having a neat and tidy personal quarters.

Although, the feeling of satisfaction was short lived as she faced the daily challenge of getting dressed, tying the corset back. Getting changed was a quick effort, minus for that damn corset. It would be much more effective to toss it away and go without or perhaps ask for assistance, but to ask Sebastian for assistance, being that Mey-Rin was not awake yet, was too much to do. She reached behind her to deal with tightening it, gritting her teeth as she nearly breaks her arms to pull it socially acceptably tight enough. 

Damn corsets. Worst invention in the world. 

Once dressed she brushed her hair back, sliding a headband on that matches the dress to hold the majority of her hair away to behave. Wish picked up the candle sitting on her nightstand, blowing a small flame on it to light it so they can see with minimal trouble in the dark. Giving one final glance around the room, she opened her door and chuckles, trying to get his attention.

“Shall we get this day started then?”

[charredchesspiece]

Eyes of garnet cut across the walls, ignoring the pleasing decor to appraise the very bones of this expansive mansion. He has captured the weathering to a perfect detail; no layman could know the estate was burned to the ground only a few years ago. Although he rebuilt it to be an exact replica of the little lord’s abode, Sebastian likes to think he created something better. Something stronger. A piece of him slipped into the mortar, squeezed itself between every brick. “I suppose so,” the butler agrees. “It would not make sense to abandon such a place.”

She brings up quite the valid point. How could he ever bear to part with one of his greatest achievements? Never mind the memories he’s made here. Never mind the attachments. When all is said and done, tummy full if only for one passing, glorious moment, memories and attachments will be all that he has.

Suddenly recalling the guest, Sebastian returns the full force of his stare to the lounging woman. The fire’s glow becomes her, highlights her cheekbones and the slope of her nose. Fire makes everything beautiful, Sebastian thinks. Even its ashes, flecked with resilient ruby embers, are more attractive than any jeweled chain. Briefly, perhaps nonsensically, he wonders how Christine would wear such an unconventional glitter.

“We are glad to have you back for as long as your visit lasts,” Sebastian says, smiling decorously. Can she tell in the way he peers at her, peers through her, that he means what he says? The Phantomhive butler does not lie, after all. What game is there in that? “I hope you might regale me with tales of your achievements since we last connected, but I will not press you.”

“I feel like that’s just flattery towards yourself,” Chris laughed, sinking back in further into the lounge chair. She stared him down, but with a soft smile on her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she had come to visit him, but with that she knew it had been a while at least.

“I haven’t met enough demons in my time to refute that claim though,” she told him. “How has life been treating you since we last spoke? Still with the same contractee?”

@charredchesspiece