
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2495429.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kuroshitsuji_|_Black_Butler
  Relationship:
      Sebastian_Michaelis/Ciel_Phantomhive
  Character:
      Ciel_Phantomhive, Sebastian_Michaelis
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-22 Chapters: 1/? Words: 1467
****** Through the Looking Glass ******
by SasstrianPrissess
Summary
     Ah, poor Alice, trapped in another world and yet there is still that
     damnable white rabbit she had yet to catch...
Beneath the Phantomhive manor lays a space of marvelous distraction. It
contains objects so ordinary that only the foolish dismiss without a second
glance. However, it is because of these objects that our story takes place.
Although, amongst the objects lying seemingly abandoned, there is only one
which we will look at closely…
Try not to lean to close though, Ma Cherie, for only glancing upon it will
suffice. “Why is that?” you may ask. Well, the object in question is a mirror.
This particular mirror shows its beholder their innermost desires and shall act
upon them in a moment’s notice. It is also very dangerous to those who seek to
get much closer than simple eye contact. I can see your hand reaching to touch
as if in defiance of my words, with a gracious smirk I shall only briefly pull
away your hand and speak more of why you ought to refrain from touching the
glass.
My story to you takes place so many years ago, centuries even, since every
object including the mirror has seen usage. I knew of a foolish child who was
seeking to do as much as you were moments ago. He touched the mirror, but that
time was of his own ignorant mistake…
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Tch, damn that Sebastian,” Ciel growled, pursing his lips as he paced up and
down the mahogany wood of the second floor hallway, his cane making small taps
with its ornamental metal tip along the hard floor as he walked.
The young earl was irritated at the fact that his butler had thought to abandon
him in his own home in favor of cleaning up a certain guest room that was
rarely used. It was rarely used as such because this particular room was once
his mother’s favorite. Within the room were feminine objects of high quality;
beautifully scented perfumes in crystal bottles, fine and immaculate dresses of
brocade and Chinese silk, hats with proud plumages (as it was the style during
such a time), shoes made from the same silk as well as encrusted with the
finest jewels that would make any woman (refined or not) weep at their
brilliance. Yes, Rachel Phantomhive was a pampered pet of a woman, but she
cared not for the fineness of the jewels her husband, Vincent Phantomhive,
bestowed upon her, for he would always tell her, with the best of boasting
pride any man could muster, that she was finer and more brilliant than any
jewel or dress.
Yet, those memories seemed so long ago, for there was only one thing that
actually interested him that had been stored away since the second restoration
of the Phantomhive estate. It was a mirror. This mirror was no ordinary mirror,
for the simple fact that, although it was a gracious gift bestowed upon the
young Phantomhive couple on the day of their wedding by the Queen herself, it
was unremarkable in any form or sense. No jewels adorned its simple frame,
there was not even a swirl or engraved flower that was allowed to grace the
frame. Its frame too, was of complete un-elegance for it was made of iron and
notched with thin, shiny bronze strips every few inches. All in all, it was
just a simple and ordinary mirror that even a common whore could afford.
Just as Ciel’s patience had run thin, did Sebastian exit the room with ruby
eyes that held a different aura than the usual, sly grace he commonly displayed
to all who dared to glance into them. Upon the demon butler’s face, there was a
slight tinge of satiation and his impeccable suit was displaying the slightest
edge of dishevelment. Although to the untrained eye, nothing seemed wrong with
Sebastian, Ciel could still tell that something was off by a slight degree.
A knowing smirk barely hinted at the demon’s mouth as he gazed down to stare
directly into Ciel’s sapphire eye, “Young master, I’m afraid that airing the
room took longer than anticipated. It is approximately fifteen minutes until
two, however, would you like to take your afternoon tea in the drawing room?”
Ciel was quite nearly appalled at the words his butler spoke. They were in
common coherence, yet they were unbalanced, suffice to say that it sounded as
if the demon spoke two sentences that blurred together into one. It was
unnatural and abominating to hear such imperfection that tumbled forth from a
being that was essentially perfect.
“Ah,” The bluenette merely grunted, uninterested as he continued to study the
tall raven before him.
He was quite moody after he had been told to wait outside as Sebastian cleaned
the unused room with about as much speed as a mock-turtle. A moment more of
silence passed betwixt the two males before Sebastian made a slight bow,
dismissing himself to prepare the tea and leave Ciel to walk alone to the
appointed room. The young Phantomhive, however, had better plans for how he was
to spend the wait time…
As soon as the demon butler was out of earshot, Ciel reached for the burnished
brass doorknob, twisting it open with the slightest click from the catch. He
held his breath, expecting the old scent of the room to tangle within the fresh
breath he held captive in his lungs. When no such entanglement appeared, he
released his breath, noticing that the scent of the room was fresh and lightly
fragrant with the scent of the white roses from his garden. The room had not
changed at all. Everything was as his mother had left it last, down to the last
ruffle on the blue day dress Rachel was fond of wearing. The wide, double door
window was standing open, allowing a gentle spring breeze to waft through the
room. So subtle was the breeze that the white gossamer curtains fluttered and
danced to an ephemeral melody no one could hear. This quite motion lent to the
feminine atmosphere of the room, reminding to Ciel all that he had once
forgotten. For a moment, he closed his eyes and simply breathed.
He then opened his eyes, noticing that, out of all the things newly refreshed
with the spring breath, the vanity’s detachable mirror was still covered by a
light, blanched sheet. What was more peculiar to him was the fact that the
sheet looked as if it had been recently disturbed. The sunlight filtering
through the gauzy curtains glimmered off the sliver of glass that peeked out
from under the sheet, drawing him closer as if beckoning voices called out to
him sweetly from the mirror. Ciel reached out with a timid hand, his small
fingers wrapping around the edge of the sheet as he made to slip it off the
thin frame.
The sheet pooled into a lazy pile atop the vanity shelf, allowing Ciel a full
glance of himself. He slowly released a breath he did not realized he held,
from within the silver glass a single sapphire eye peered back at a boy no
older than twelve. The boy’s dark hair contrasted with the purity of the
revealed eye, giving off an air of melancholy. With his right hand, he reached
up to undo the black, silk patch he wore to cover his contract with Sebastian,
dropping that as well atop the vanity. Now what peered back at him was a boy
who’s eyes told different sides of the same story, his right eye was that of an
amethyst color with a glimmering, spiked seal that marked him as an item of
belonging while his ocean blue one spoke of a tortured past. He blinked a few,
slow times as he reached up with his right hand to delicately trace under his
right eye with the tips of his middle and index fingers upon the glass. It had
been quite a while since he had last seen the contract and pondered its
meaning, his thoughts indicated with a soft sigh as he continued his contact
with the mirrored surface.
It was as if he were touching liquid silk, the clear surface smooth and
unyielding has he gently stroked the surface. Just as he backed away to sit
upon his heels did he finally realize his surroundings. The room to the
Phantomhive manor was no longer in existence; instead, a dense foliage with
large, exotic flowers surrounded him. The soft carpeting, that was typical of
his mother’s tastes, had been replaced with a mossy, spring-like undergrowth of
sweet grass and young shoots. The mirror he thought he had been looking at was
nothing more than a thin, clear pool of sweet water that had gathered between
the roots of a particularly large white rose.
“This…this cannot be real!” Ciel gasped, leaning forward once more to gaze into
the clear pool.
 
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efore this all dries, okay?" His voice was still
rough, but much quieter than it usually was.
"I can walk." You said in your daze.
He set you down on the edge of the tub, and he plugged the tub, drawing a bath.
"I don't want you to have to." He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and
removed your foggy glasses. Karkat pressed a soft kiss against your lips, and
he plopped you into the tub, climbing in after you. Your eyes fluttered shut,
keeping the kiss unbroken.
When he broke away, he uttered those three words you knew he longed to say for
the longest time.
And you knew he meant that he loved you, so it felt alright.
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