Sunday Six

Here's another snippet from The Water is Wide.

~*~

“Damnit, Sebastian, where are you?” he yelled. “Come here and finish this! It’s an order!” But Ciel wasn’t expecting an answer, and he didn’t get one.

Ciel dropped back to the floor of the gondola, trying to pretend that he was under the covers of his own bed, Sebastian standing guard until he fell asleep. He pressed his cheek against the golden disc, remembering Sebastian caressing his face, the heat of Sebastian’s body against his own. He stared hard at the gray waves before him, refusing to acknowledge the tears prickling the corner of his good eye. He clung to the contract seal until it hurt.

Sebastian had promised to stay with him forever. He’d wormed his way through every defense Ciel had, taught Ciel to rely on him, even to love him, for all that Ciel had tried to deny it. Ciel’s cheek’s burned with the memory of how how Sebastian's gentle fingers and sinful mouth had driven him to tears there, at the end. It had been cruel. Unaccountably cruel, to teach his numb and atrophied heart how to feel once more. And the worst part was that Ciel hadasked for it. He fumed to know that Sebastian had only been fulfilling orders, the perfect and devoted butler to the end.

The demon had played him, not just for a fool, but for a soppy and besotted one at that. Ciel might have forgiven the pain -- he'd asked for it, after all -- but the humiliation of whispering his love into Sebastian’s ear, that was unforgivable.

Now that the shock of nearly drowning was wearing off, the cold, familiar burn of anger was kindling deep in his gut. Ciel welcomed it, basking in the glow of its treacherous light while he drummed his fingers on the side of the gondola.

For a long time, he drifted in silence, nothing but the splashing of the waves. The sky overhead was cloudy, no hint of stars, though diffuse moonlight gleamed overhead. A breeze ruffled his hair, cool, but not unpleasant. It occurred to him slowly that it should be cold.