The Death

Elizabeth had died. It happened eventually, as of course it must—she was mortal. He had gone to her funeral, and everything around him had been like a terrible itch, too familiar, too constricting around him. There was nothing in all of England that didn't make him think of Lizzie. So he'd informed Sebastian that he'd been leaving, that he'd be going on holiday—or grieving, however you'd rather put it—and that Sebastian might as well go do whatever it was he did for fun.

"How very kind of you," Sebastian murmured, and Ciel glared at him. It was true that he'd never paid much attention to his butler's movements for years now, and there had certainly been times when one or the other had just… left. He didn't know why he felt such a need to inform Sebastian now, and it made him irritable.

"I'm not being kind," Ciel ground out.

"But you are so very kind," Sebastian assured him. "I have never seen a demon so moved by the softer emotions… to think you felt such pity for your last contractor, it almost makes one feel sorry."

The sarcasm that coated his words were the consistency of honey.

Ciel wished he had never told Sebastian about James, even though the man had needled him to—the butler had only rubbed it in more once he'd heard the whole story. He could almost feel the ghost of Aunt Francis hovering over his shoulder, agreeing with Sebastian's assessment that he was a girl. Ciel huffed, and left. America was where one went to get a new start, wasn't it? The land of the brave, or the free, or something. And he hadn't been planning, then, to give anything to Sebastian. He hadn't been planning to make any contract at all. But he had heard Julie's cry, and he had not been able to stay away.

And then it was Julie's birthday. She accepted presents from her friends—small things they had bought or made, and hugged them all; they ran around wildly and played through every hour of free time. She was wearing her second-best dress.

"I don't want to go to sleep tonight," Julie admitted, when she lay under her covers that night; her letters were written and waiting in the dresser drawer; Ciel lying beside her and stroking his hand through her hair. She closed her eyes, and a single tear leaked out, before she could stop it. Nothing more.

"Don't worry," Ciel said. "I'll wake you up at dawn tomorrow. I'll show you the sunrise."

And he did.

There she sat, looking out over the buildings and the city below, bustling with life; the trees, unfurling their buds, were a riot of green and pink. "I was happy," she admitted. "At least a little. Thank you."

He couldn't answer. You deserve so much more than this, he thought.

"When you take me to your friend, would you tell him I hope he's well? And I hope he's happy too?"

Ciel blinked in surprise. "You've never met him," he said at last.

"I know," Julie answered. "But I know you care about him. And I know you, don't I?"

Ciel's voice was thick and shaking somehow, but he answered almost clearly. "...Yes," he said. "Yes, you do."

She folded her hands in her lap and turned to face him. "So… what now?" she said.

"You once asked me for a kiss," Ciel said.

"No, don't," Julie replied.

"I'm not going to," Ciel said. "I don't have any around anyway. But, if you're willing… I'd very much like to give you a thimble."

Julie blushed, and looked over at the book, half-open beside them. Peter Pan had been ignorant about kisses, so Wendy had created such a mix-up… a kiss became a thimble, and a thimble, a kiss.

"Well," she said at last, "only if you want to."

"That will be the end, you understand," Ciel said gravely. Julie nodded, and screwed her eyes shut. But Ciel took her face gently in his: he kissed her softly, sweetly, on the mouth, until he could feel her trembling stop and the edges of her lips curl up. Her brown eyes opened and for a moment, she was staring at him, closer than she had ever been; her smile fluttered like a butterfly against his skin.

And then the soul came out, easily, and slipped into the ring on his hand. A soft pink, with a glowing orange in its heart—the colors of the sunrise.

The End

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