A minute to fall in love
There are monsters out of the closet and this writer is one of them... Beware!
Info. A Kuroshitsuji story from Ciel's POV. Based on the events in "Phobia", my own impressions and crazy ideas. Hints of BL.
They say that it takes less than a minute for the first impression to be made about an individual. Being a logical person, I tend to agree to those who believe so. After all, it doesn't take all that many seconds to make a fast judgement about the person's appearance, manners and speech. About who she or he is. The first and strongest impression is more than likely to be the lasting one.
But how long does it take to fall in love?
Such an odd question. I never cared to find an answer to it before. Love is not logical, quite otherwise it's that silly, overwhelming emotion that makes Elizabeth hang all over me, not giving me peace for a single moment, even when I'm supposed to be working. Love is an annoying part of a human's life.
That is what I've always thought love was. But really... Is it?
Lately I'm forced to wonder. Because he would never keep his hands off me, same with those vulgar offers and teasing notes of his. Those are the worst. I can never know if he is being serious about something. All of it - those words, and touches, and gazes. He calls them love. Such a fool!
Yet... He is the one to make me hesitate in the first place. How can love be both that silliness of my fiance's as well as those sultry attempts to near me? Both of these feel so different! Then... What exactly is this 'love'?
Maybe it's just me being foolish, however, I can't help but to observe and think again and again about this foolish matter. For I don't understand either of those. Not Elizabeth's suffocating hugs, not his disturbing pick-up lines.
Really! With these two being my examples of what 'love' could be how could I ever hope to understand?
But I do.
I hate to admit it even to my own reflection in the mirror when the room around me is empty of any other living beings other than myself. I'm not afraid, of course! But this feeling of being alone with something so serious and confusing pressing on me is hard to deal with, even for the Earl Phantomhive. And there is a certain reason for that.
Whenever I lock myself out to think about this... This emotion. The air becomes thick. My breath is so loud in the four walls all of a sudden. And the heat rises within me. Not the sort of heat one feels when the weather is hot outside, nor the sort my insolent butler tries to tempt me with (not that he is succeeding anyway, cheeky bastard).
It's a heat that makes my reflection in the mirror flush, leaving myself confused. Why would that happen?
The more I think about it, the more bedazzled I become. But, at the very least, there is one thing that I know for sure. Something I would love to hate but even my pride cannot bring me to do that, nothing will. Ever? Indeed, never would I hate this one thought I finally came to grasp.
Love. I know what it feels like. It's warm. Inviting, passionate, crazy, deep, and so, so, so good! I'd love to hate him for making me feel this.
I can't. For I love him. But I won't let him know.
Instead I remain pondering about love when I'm all alone and can stare into my only fully trusted companion my own reflection in the mirror. I can't stop but ponder about that same question that bugs me for a while now how long does it take for a person to fall in love?
I thought a lot. I decided that one minute is more than enough. Just thinking about it...
A single shy glance. Two ragged intakes of air. Three fluttering, stolen moments of the other their face, their body, their... Eyes-lips-nose-hair... Ah! And once more averting your eyes.
Four or five clumsy words. One more to make yourself sound though. As if the seventh second that follows wouldn't be enough of a luck already.
Somewhere between eight and seventeen you are caught in that magic listening to the other speaking but not hearing a single thing. Because the heart racing in your chest is too fast, too loud to overhear the other person. But it it alright because you feel them instead.
Not sure as to what follows to the others in that one magical minute, I only know about my heart skipping forward. Twenty two thirty four thirty nine forty six... No. Forty seven. It's like the time is accelerated. Along with the electricity in the air.
Only me and him are slow in the world that is flying past so quickly it dazes. And it takes just a single more glance in those tempting eyes to find myself not needing the following seconds any more. It had happened.
In just a moment my heart has been twisted and turned by a storm dashing through. A storm that throws aside pride, wrath and temperance. And all I want at that moment is what a proper noble shouldn't even dream of him and him only.
But that storm in my heart is a secret. I won't let him know. His vulgar selfishness and attempts to molest me had earned him me keeping silent. If he wants me to let him close, he will have to learn to obey to the storm that carries the name of Heaven itself. Storm called "Ciel".1
And damn, I will make him lose his mind. I will storm the same way through his black, black heart he used to rush through mine; at that less than a minute it took for me. For every lost bit of my pride, I will throw his principles far, far away. For every last piece of sanity his selfish love stole me, I will take away his pose and perfectness.
No longer shall you be perfect, Sebastian.
And I will make sure it won't take more than a minute for you to lose yourself. To me. To your only master, to the only one that you are supposed to obey. I will make sure I will be the only one to make your world spin.
Maybe you never knew that, Sebastian, but humans can be as greedy and possessive as demons. Especially those like me. I will never share you. But you will have to earn my heart. It won't be an easy task. If you do...
I stood, turning my back at the mirror. I was ready to face the new day arising with whatever it presented to me with all those fools in the manor. Maybe the day I would turn his heart into a complete mess would be today.
And if he was lucky enough, it might be that I would find the sixty ninth second to the minute to satisfy his immense hunger for more than what heart felt. But about that he'd have to be damn convincing. However, I was sure that for one hell of a seducer like himself it was not a problem.
It would only take a minute of sweet words, right words. Right touches in all the right places, and I wouldn't even fight.
...Because a single minute had been enough to twist me. Now I only had to twist him as well for both of us to make a tangled picture with only a couple of puzzle pieces fitting perfectly. Down to every smallest curve.
And maybe it wouldn't take even as much as a minute for us to sin, together. Only the future knew.
I walked out of the room, closing the door to the past and readied myself for greeting the future that awaited me in the kitchen, cooking me sweets. (He better be or there would be no sign of that sixty ninth second of pleasure!)
1 "Ciel" means sky, heaven in French.