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It starts drizzling about thirty seconds after Lizzy enters the cafe. By the time she’s ordered her hot chocolate, it’s properly raining, drips rolling eagerly down the thick screen of glass separating the too-hot shop from the outside world. After having been out in the cold all day, it’s not entirely unpleasant to be too warm, but even so, she shrugs her coat off and unwinds the scarf from her neck, crumpling it into her handbag. She takes her usual seat—tucked away around the corner slightly, just off to the side of the counter and mostly hidden from the public outside—and lets out a long breath. The warm, friendly hustle and bustle of the cafe combined with the sound of faint rainfall make for the perfect atmosphere to finally let herself relax in.
She has just begun warming her still-chilled hands on the mug when the bell above the door chimes and a young man barrels in. His coat’s hood is up and he’s so wet that he looks slick, the heavy downpour muffled as the door swings shut again. As he hastens past Lizzy he catches her table with his bag, jolting her drink and splattering her with rainwater. Hot chocolate dribbles down the side of the mug.
“Oh! Don’t worry about it!” she says before he has a chance to apologise, doing her best to be polite, but he hasn’t noticed his mistake. He brushes past her to get to the counter with barely a glance in her direction. Irritated, she wipes the wooden table with a napkin, watching as he orders his drink. She meets rude people all the time, but there’s something hurried about his actions that catches her attention, teasing the edges of her memory. He’s tapping his foot impatiently as he drops a couple of pound coins into the barista’s hands. His mannerisms are familiar, but he’s so jittery and fast-moving that she can’t put her finger on why. She’s sure she’d remember somebody this restless. It’s only when he finally pushes his hood back to reveal slate-grey hair that she recognises him.
“Ciel!”
Her cousin spins around, looking shocked, eyes flicking from side to side until he spots her.
“Oh my god. I knew it was you!” she cries, jumping to her feet to grab his sodden arms and pull him towards her. “I knew you would be fine, but I was worried.”
“Really?” he murmurs as she hugs him. His head hangs over her shoulder and freezing water drips down the back of her blouse. Lizzy grips him firmly, but his arms stay limply by his sides, as though he’s forgotten how to hug. She suppresses a shiver and paints a bright smile on her face as they pull apart.
“What are you doing here? Where have you been? Sit down!”
“Ah, Liz, I really can’t stay for that long…” He glances towards the door, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.
“No, I won’t let you go now! We haven’t heard from you in weeks, Ciel. I get that uni is busy, but really! You can’t run off again without at least telling me what’s been happening! Whatever you need to leave for can’t be more important than your dearest cousin, right?”
He smiles weakly, perching on the edge of the chair. “Don’t give yourself that title so freely. You’re contending with Edward.”
“Watch it! You’re not allowed to be mean to me after treating me so poorly!” She’s grinning, but having him here in front of her is startling. Even in the warm lighting of the cafe, he still looks sickly, his skin a chalky white, eyes ringed with blue and a little too wide for her liking. He keeps twitching and looking towards the door, twisting his fingers underneath the table. His hair is longer than she remembers it as well; he doesn’t usually let it get too unkempt, but it’s grown out enough to be plastered against his cheekbones and on the bridge of his nose, a faded slate-grey instead of his normal blue tone.
“Ah, I’ve just been busy… It’s nothing personal.”
“I know it’s nothing personal,” Lizzy says quietly. “You haven’t been in contact with anybody. You haven’t replied to my texts or Edward’s calls, and Sieglinde and Soma went over to your apartment twice to get absolutely no reply. Your parents have been considering filing a police report, Ciel. And I missed you.”
He looks down to the floor, avoiding her fixed stare. “That’s an overreaction. You know I’m not always the best at keeping in touch, and I’ve been busy. Truly. I must have been out when they came by.”
“I’ll take your word for it. But how on earth have you ended up here? If you were coming here, you could have let me know!” Lizzy says, touching on the fact that he’s a two-hour drive away from his university. He stiffens in response, biting his lip.
“I’m just passing through.”
“What, are you heading to visit your parents? That’s good. I’ll call back home and tell them you’re here! I know everybody would love to see y—”
“—No, I’m passing through, not going back home,” he snaps. Seeing her startled expression, he softens slightly, leaning back. “No. Please don’t tell them that I’m here. It’s really important that you don’t. Sorry, Lizzy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay,” she says softly, her mind whirring. Then the puzzle pieces slide into position. “Look, Ciel, do you want to come back to mine for a bit? You can stay as long as you want. I won’t tell anybody. If it’s... drugs, we can get you help…”
“Fuck, do you really think I’m on drugs?” His voice is a little too loud and a couple of other customers cast questioning looks at the pair. Lizzy does her best to ignore them.
“Um. Well...”
Ciel sits back, running a hand through his hair, and eventually laughs a quiet, humourless laugh. “...No, it’s not that. Don’t worry about me, Lizzy. I’m fine. I told you, I’m just busy.”
She presses her lips together. A barista appears with Ciel’s black coffee, apologising for the wait, and the two of them sit in silence whilst she muddles about with napkins and sugar packets. Once she’s gone, Lizzy sighs, carefully raising her hot chocolate to take a sip. Ciel gulps back half of his paper cup in a few seconds and places it back on the table with a hollow tap.
“I’m sorry that I’m not always the best.”
Lizzy considers denying that, but all she can manage to say is, “It’s okay. No worries.”
“I appreciate it. I really do. But I should get going… I need to get back.”
“...Already? Can you at least tell me where ‘back’ is?”
Ciel opens his mouth to reply, looking stricken, but the bell clangs and he instead whips his head towards the door, twisting his whole body around the chair. Lizzy follows his line of sight.
The man entering is dressed entirely in black, a soaking wet woollen trenchcoat wrapped around his impressively tall figure. He’s so huge that he has to stoop down to get in, side-stepping slightly through the narrow door to allow for his wide shoulders. With all the grace of a model, he slicks his dark hair back with one hand, using the other to push the door shut behind him. His face is almost too perfect to be real. Every feature is sharp and precise in its beauty. His only slight flaw is that he looks a little tired, shadows underneath his eyes and a drag to his movements. The cafe seems unaffected by his presence, but Lizzy feels a chill settle over her. His colossal size, eery elegance and impossible beauty are severely intimidating, not counting his head-to-toe black apparel. She’s all but forgotten Ciel’s existence, caught up in her unsettled absorption, until she hears the scrape of a chair being shoved back. She tears her attention away from the newcomer to see her cousin standing shakily, his eyes blown wide open, with an expression so desperate and tragic that Lizzy thinks he might either burst into tears or pass out.
“Sebastian,” he breathes, and the man snaps his attention wholly to Ciel. He’s across the room before Lizzy can blink and Ciel seems to half-collapse, half-fling himself at the man. He gathers Ciel into his arms greedily and Lizzy watches in shock as her cousin is engulfed near entirely by the solid black mass of his huge frame. The man holds Ciel’s tiny, delicate body so tightly that he seems to be near to snapping in half, feet lifted clean off of the floor. It takes Lizzy a moment to realise that they’re whispering, sentences layering over each other as they rush to speak.
“I knew you’d find me here,” Ciel murmurs into his coat, voice barely audible above the noise of the cafe. Lizzy strains to hear them, astounded by the spectacle.
“I had a heart attack when you weren’t where I left you. Does the rain bother you?”
“Mm, I don’t like it. But is everything ready now, Sebastian?” The man—Sebastian—nods from where his face is buried in Ciel’s shoulder.
“Is what ready?” Lizzy asks tentatively, deeply unsettled by the scene and yet hesitant to break it up. Ciel disentangles enough of himself from Sebastian’s crushing embrace to turn his face her, his eyes bright and shining. His face is flushed, a hazy pleasure flooding his features, and his lips are curved into a grin. Lizzy recoils; he looks hysterical, his gleaming, fierce eyes boring into hers. Sebastian manages to rip his gaze away from Ciel to look at her as well.
“Who is this, Ciel?”
“My cousin,” Ciel says faintly, still gripping onto Sebastian’s coat. Sebastian’s arm stays wrapped around his shoulder even as they draw apart slightly, making every move very slowly, as though it’s painful to be even a few inches apart. Lizzy observes as Ciel winces, astonished and uncomfortable.
“My name is Elizabeth. And you are?”
“I’m Ciel’s... boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth.” He smiles politely at her but doesn’t extend his hand out to shake hers, both staying firmly on Ciel’s thin frame. “Are you ready to go, Ciel?”
“Yes, completely.”
“Hold on, hold on,” Lizzy says, her head spinning. “Boyfriend? Ciel, this is all too much. And—you can’t just leave.”
Ciel speaks with the patient air of an adult explaining something to a child despite the fact that he’s practically hanging off of Sebastian, clearly unable to stand on his own. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve stayed here long enough.”
“But—but—when will I next see you? Where are you going?”
“That doesn’t concern you,” Sebastian says smoothly, pulling Ciel a little closer. He rests his rosy cheek against Sebastian’s coat and closes his eyes for a moment. Lizzy hasn’t seen him look this weak in years—not since they were children and he got norovirus. It’s concerning; she wonders if she could convince him to go to hospital. He doesn’t look like himself, and he certainly isn’t acting like it.
“Soon, Liz, you’ll see me soon,” Ciel says, but he isn’t even looking at her anymore, gazing up at Sebastian instead. Lizzy shakes her head.
“This is ridiculous. What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re on your deathbed and you’re just rushing away! Surely you must see that this is absolutely insane, Ciel—”
“It isn’t good to ask too many questions.” Sebastian appears calm, but his voice is low, a dangerous lilt to his tone.
“Don’t worry about me, Lizzy.”
“You can’t just say that. I am worried about you. Can we talk alone for a minute more, Ciel? Please.”
Ciel looks torn, peering up at Sebastian. The man shakes his head almost imperceptibly, grip tightening around Ciel’s shoulders. “I can’t. Some other time, okay?”
“Ciel…”
“It’s been nice meeting you, Elizabeth,” Sebastian says firmly, guiding Ciel away from the table. Lizzy tries to catch his eye, floundering, but he seems to forget she even exists the second they’ve turned away, nestling himself closer to Sebastian and pulling his hood over his head. She sways where she stands, unsure of what to do.
At the last moment, just as they’re about exit the cafe, Sebastian glances back at Lizzy. He’s smirking, infuriatingly smug, which is almost, almost enough to make her step forward to dash after them and tear Ciel from his grasp—but then she looks into his eyes. They’re glowing, a deep, vivid red, scarlet pinpricks glistering from their sockets. Inhuman. She is left staring at the couple, stunned into stillness, as they stride out into the downpour and are swallowed by the leaden rain.
—
Ciel wakes to a dim, silent room.
It takes him a few minutes for his vision to clear and for the world to come into shape, his mind still deeply swathed in shadowy dreams and exhaustion. By the time he’s realised that he’s alone, the pain has reemerged, a dull, cold ache that permeates right down to the very marrow of his bones. His skin feels as weak and fragile as damp tissue paper. The air is so thin that it bites into his throat on the way down, snatching into his lungs and then rushing out again all too quickly; he can’t catch his breath. It’s clearly late at night, the room washed in an artificial yellow shade that glows from the only window. Sheets lie crumpled over his body, draping between his limbs.
Once he’s emerged enough from his reverie, a slow fear creeps up his spine, spidery swirls of worry pulling him further out of his somnolent state. He doesn’t like being alone, especially as he doesn’t know where he is. This room is unknown to him. Usually, Sebastian would be here to reassure him upon waking up, so this time he feels disorientated, his fatigue making it hard to even keep his eyes open long enough to survey his surroundings. The bed is vast enough to sleep three, four people, so there’s no reason for Sebastian to be on the floor. He rolls over slightly to check, just in case, but no luck; the vacant wooden floor stares back at him. His senses are doused in real, ice-cold dread.
“Sebastian?” he rasps anxiously into the darkness. No response. “Sebastian?!”
Stop it. You’re being paranoid, Ciel thinks to himself, dragging a heavy hand up to cover his eyes. It isn’t even a possibility. He’ll be back any minute now.
His heart continues to pound despite this. After a minute has passed, he painstakingly pushes back the sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. It takes him another few to get to his feet, gripping onto the ornate oak headboard for support, his head exploding into stars. His feet feel to be a very long way down from the rest of him. Once he’s upright and only slightly swaying, he shuffles towards the window, wondering if he might gain some information from the surroundings.
Maybe he was upset about earlier? Maybe he’s testing me?
There’s a single streetlamp just beyond the glass, its amber-gold light casting that dim glow over the room. After that, the scenery is confusing; a deserted grey street, complete with nondescript, closed shops, all perfectly ordinary except for an enormous tree that dominates much of the view. Its leaves are clearly just about to fall, a scalding acidic yellow in shade, the trunk and branches blackened both from the lack of light and from sooty city smog. Its leaves seem to be luminescent where it catches the streetlamp’s light.
No distinguishing features. No sign of Sebastian.
Vision blurry, Ciel slumps forward, near to collapsing on the floor. He hits the window instead. He’s tired, so tired, and his mind is slurring thoughts and memories together, forgetting to keep up upright in the process. Who was it that I saw today? he wonders, idly watching the window fog up where his breath hits it. Fingerprints from previous occupants flare up. The glass is cool and sticky against his clammy skin.
An arm reaches around in front of him and guides him to step backwards. He stumbles for a moment, surprised, before strong hands clamp around him and steady him. Ciel cries out, making a futile struggle against the grasp until its owner speaks.
“You’re awake.”
“Sebastian.”
He should have known. His mind isn’t working as fast as it would normally. Around them, the room rushes back into focus, sharp relief hitting Ciel in a sudden spike. The tightness around his chest dissipates and he gasps, air flooding into his lungs. The stars floating in front of his vision dissolve. Sebastian lets him lean back against his torso until his muscles relax and the pain begins to ebb away.
“...Yes, but I haven’t been up for long. Where did you go?” His tone is urgent, needy, but it doesn’t bother him. He knows Sebastian won’t mind it—might relish it, even.
“I had to sort out some things. I didn’t want to leave.”
“I thought you might have gone for good. I was worried,” Ciel says softly, turning to face Sebastian. He’s looking down at Ciel with a frown.
“You have to give me more credit than that. Neither of us would survive if I were to. I would never.”
“No, I know that really,” Ciel muses, letting his forehead fall against Sebastian’s chest. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”
“It’s alright. It must have been hard to wake up alone.”
Sebastian is no longer holding him upright now, and Ciel moves apart to take his hands and pull him towards the bed. The separation is unpleasant; his muscles stiffen in protest. He’s still tired despite it all.
“It isn’t raining anymore,”
“That’s because we’re nearly home. Autumn isn’t so much of a thing there.”
“Your home?”
“Our home.”
“Right,” Ciel says. “But what about the tree? That’s seasonal.”
“The yellow one? We’re not quite there yet. You must have brought it with you.”
“I don’t choose to bring things with me, Sebastian,” Ciel says, smiling, as he drops down onto the mattress. His limbs ache like he’s just run up a dozen flights of stairs, each muscle screaming for him to hold Sebastian close until the pain subsides. Sebastian himself looks like a discoloured photocopy of himself in the dim light, made up of a series of yellow-tinged shadows, with eyes that are almost entirely hidden—just matte grey-black orbs with the faintest smudge of rust-brown iris in the middle. And yet his warped appearance does nothing to dissuade Ciel, who reaches his arms out to receive his lover in an embrace.
“You were gone for too long. I don’t appreciate it.”
Sebastian wraps his arms around Ciel, their figures casting a black outline on the amber-lit wall behind them, and smiles as Ciel’s eyes slide shut.
“I won’t let it happen again.”