There was an unforgiving chill in the wind.

The pale moon shown down on the paved streets of the city of London, barely alive due to the late night hour. Pale, frozen flakes fell from the heavens and danced in the breeze, eventually coating the entire area in a thin sheet of ice and snow. Men, women, and children rushed down the emptying sidewalks, hurrying to get to their final destination to escape the harsh yet beautiful season of winter.

A man, however, paid no heed to the crunching of the footsteps or the small tickles on his face from the snowflakes making their way to the ground. He simply sat, small ghost of a smile on his face as he held onto his sides, coat discarded and white shirt shredded revealing his pale, scratched and torn up chest.

The white sheet or snow around him was red.

He didn't call out for help, he didn't want it. Humans were selfish creatures anyways; they wouldn't help out a stranger like him unless it somehow benefited them. He could tell from the looks in their eyes when men glared at him for being so un-presentable, women avoided eye contact with him out of fear, and children who were too young to understand the true perils of life ogled him in question and wonder before being pulled away by their mothers and fathers. He didn't expect anything different.

"You're a mess."

The male froze, looking up from his spot on the frozen ground, his ruby eyes staring in surprise at the person in front of him. So lost in his own thoughts, he had failed to notice the crunching of boots come his way before stopping altogether. How long had this boy been standing in front of him?

"Forgive me, but my appearance does not concern me at the moment," the dark, raven haired male on the ground replied, a smile brushing his pale lips as he examined the small boy in front of him.

The child was no older than thirteen, sleet colored hair contrasting harshly with the white powder daintily resting on his head. The tone of his skin showed lack of sunlight, paleness a simple shade or two darker than the snow itself. His porcelain face showed arrogance, pain, and determination, adding the air of authority the boy possessed. Ocean blue eyes locked onto crimson ones, nearly devoid of emotion yet a spark still finding it's way through. The slender bones in the cheeks and jaw, along with the large eyes, were traits a girl would dream graced her features. And a slim torso, long and slender legs, all hidden beneath a large, navy blue coat with tan fur around the rim of the hood, only added to that effect.

The boy was beautiful.

"I'll call a hospital," the boy said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small device. His tone was bored, almost as if not caring about finding a bleeding person on the side of the street. "You're an idiot for not doing this earlier and making someone else do it."

The injured male merely smirked as the boy began pressing buttons on the small yet high tech phone, his smirk only deepening when the boy looked back down at him. "Is something funny?" he asked, a hint of agitation in his voice as he halted before pushing the call button.

"I simply find it hilarious how you think I am going to go to a hospital." The boy glared down at him and the male cut off what he knew was going to be an impossibly long list of complaints or name calling by speaking again. "Human doctors and surgeons cannot heal someone like I, for you see, I am not a human."

Silence passed for a few moments, neither male saying anything. The crunching around them seemed to have stopped, as more and more people evacuated the streets to escape the freezing weather.

"Maybe I should call you a mental hospital," the boy said, putting his phone back into his pockets with a huff as he turned back around.

"I do not lie."

The raven haired male saw hesitation in the boy as he saw him freeze, one leg extended as he had originally intended to walk away, and instead mentally evaluate his choices to continue with that plan, help a seemingly deranged man, or call the police.

I do not lie.

Something in that phrase kept the boy from walking away. The child felt the urge to believe what the clearly strange man had said, but he couldn't fathom why. Finally the boy turned back around, his blue orbs focusing back down at the male who continued to clutch his sides.

The boy sighed. "Human or whatever, I don't care. But you do need some sort of treatment for the bleeding. Surely some bandages wouldn't hurt," he said, pulling out his phone once more. The pale, ruby eyed male raised an eyebrow.

"I told you, a hospital won't work for me, I—"

"Yeah yeah, you're not human, shut up. I'm not calling the hospital," the boy rudely cut him off, bring the phone to his ear. The man on the ground watched curiously as the boy mumbled something into the receiver and then shut the device, putting it back into his pocket. He didn't spare a glance back down at the injured person, or even say another word. Silence fell over them again.

Not a minute later, a sleek black car pulled up beside the two and the boy looked back down. "Get up, I'm bring you to my mansion."

What the boy had said was surprising to say the least, the older male didn't expect it. A part of him did expect the boy to leave, to storm off and call him a liar, call him names like crazy, and then leave him to bleed continuously on the ground. Yet here the blue eyed boy was, offering him treatment back at his residence.

"Hurry up," the boy said, voice demanding though not hard and careless. With a small smile, the male attempted to lift himself off the ground, only to be consumed by pain and he sat back down.

"I cannot, I'm afraid," he said. "I do not expect you to help me, so please do not trouble yourself over me," he added, leaning back against the building he was resting on. He was surpsied even further when the boy took a few steps towards him, reached out to grab him to help him up, before freezing a few inches before making contact. The male on the ground watched curiously as the boy's face went from annoyance to determination, then to what appeared to be doubt and…fear?

The boy appeared to be having an inward battle with himself, hand still reaching out and only an inch or two away from the raven-haired male's arm. Finally, with a sigh, he retracted it and stepped back.

"Wait here," he said, and walked towards the car. Why was the boy so hesitant to touch him? Why did he get a look of fear in his eyes?

"Excuse me, Sir, may I grab your arm? The master has asked me to help you into the car."

The injured man looked up into the eyes of what appeared to be a servant, a driver to be exact by the hat he wore. He turned his head to see the boy, obviously the master, standing beside them with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face. The man's arm was taken by the servant and led to the car, everyone silent to what was happening. Here, a stranger, a boy to be precise, was taking in an injured and possibly crazy stranger in an attempt to heal his wounds. In this day and age, things like this didn't happen, which is why the boy and the man himself couldn't contemplate why something like this was happening.

"You better be worth all of this trouble, not just some crazy, drugged up alcoholic who lost a catfight," the boy mumbled as he climbed into the rather large car, sitting across from the male sprawled out on the seats in front of him. "It will take a long time to get your blood out of those seats." The older male couldn't help but mentally laugh at the boy.

"Oh trust me, though I may doubt it, I think you will find that I am indeed worth all this trouble."

"Mey-Rin, please prepare a room for our guest."

The maid, purple hair in twin pigtails spiking out from under the head garment, bustled about nervously around the boy, thick round glasses obstructing the view from her probably panicked eyes.

"Young Master, are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked worriedly. "I mean, he's a complete stranger!"

The boy huffed and crossed his arms, his jacket having long been discarded, revealing a vest with a tie and white, long sleeved shirt and slim dress pants. A school uniform, apparently. "I found him injured. What kind of person would I be if I just left him there to fend for himself and possibly die?"

"This isn't like bringing home a stray cat, he's a person!"

"I am not really a person, you see. I am not human at all, as I have said earlier," the not-person inserted from his spot of leaning against the wall, trying to get support from his weakened state. The blue-haired boy rolled his eyes but turned back to his maid anyways.

"There you have it, now please get one of the rooms ready and send Bard over here to help me get him to the room."

Defeated, the maid nodded and scurried off, nearly tripping over her two feet in the process. The boy turned back towards his guest. "If you keep saying that then people are going to think we're mad; you for spouting nonsense and me for allowing you to stay with me."

The man smiled. "Maybe you are mad for allowing a complete stranger into your home. After all, I am not human, I am a demon."

The master of the mansion stared at him, blue orbs wide in surprise at the outburst and sighed and shook his head. "Maybe I really am mad," he said before peering back up at the taller male and narrowing his eyes. "So let me guess; you're a demon who got into a fight with some greater being over something trivial and because of their strength your wounds are taking longer to heal than usual?" he asked, tone mocking and disbelieving until the male simply nodded.

"Yes, you are right on the dot, except over the trivial matter part. This matter was extremely important to me." The boy nearly slammed his head against the wall.

"You're crazy." He said. "Once your wounds are healed I'm taking you to an asylum."

"I do not lie," the male said, this time giving the boy a stern, hard look. The blue haired boy's breath nearly escaped him when he saw how serious the other was. Snapping his head back and forth, he growled.

"Fine, demon, so are you going to eat my soul or something now? Or are you waiting until after the bleeding stops?" he asked, deciding to be as serious as the man was pretending to be. He didn't believe the male one bit, but he was going to fight fire with fire.

"Welcome back, Young Master," a gruff voice said from behind the two, and the boy turned to see a blond man behind him, donning a chef's robe with an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a smirk on his face. The boy's hard glare softened as he looked at his employee.

"Bard, please help this…guest here to his room. Follow me," he said, walking away. Bard quickly ran to the mans side and threw his arm around his shoulder.

"Does this guest have a name?" he asked with a slight chuckle as the three walked down the corridors and towards the stairs.

"I do not," came the reply, and the boy merely huffed.

"What kind of person doesn't have a name?" he asked, and when the raven haired male opened his mouth to speak, the boy shook his head. "Don't say it."

Bard watched the exchange with confusion as they continued walking until they saw Mey-Rin leaving a room, nearly jumping out of her skin when she saw them.

"Oh! Young Master, you gave me a fright," she said, shaking a little while trying to calm her jumpy nerves. "A-anyways, the room is all done!"

The boy nodded and instructed Bard to put the guest on the bed and to fetch Tanaka and have him bring up the first aid kit. Mey-Rin followed after him to fetch a change of clothes and the two were left alone together again.

"Are you going to answer my question?" the boy asked. The man chuckled.

"It is true, I am a demon and we demons eat the souls of humans we form a contract with. However, you and I are not in such a situation, but quite the opposite. You have helped me by giving me a place to stay so that I may peacefully heal my wounds, and on top of that you were the first human to have showed kindness and consideration while I was out on the street." He paused. "In an attempt to show my appreciation, not only will I not eat your soul but I will grant you a contract-free wish."

The boy ran his slim fingers through his dull hair. "This is crazy, don't think for a second that I believe a word of what you're saying. What's a contract anyway?"

The demon smirked as he took off what was left of his shirt and set in down on the floor, examining his wounds and the lack of healing of them. "Choose what you want to believe, but whatever it is you desire then I shall grant it." He looked back up at the boy. "and a contract is what binds a human to a demon; the demon finds a soul worth consuming and offers the human a chance to grant their greatest desire in exchange for said soul. When the wish has been granted and their desires achieved, then the demon kills them and devours their soul." The boy looked at a loss for words, face showing traces of fear. "Do not worry, for I am offering you a contract-free wish. These a practically nonexistent to us demons, but for your kindness I think you have earned it."

The boy, of course, after a few more brief moments of silence, shakes his head. "Even if what you are saying is true, I am Ciel Phantomhive, heir to the Phantomhive fortune and estate. I have money, fame, and power. I don't need a wish from a demon, I make my own wishes and desires come true."

The demon frowned before smiling again, surprised at first but finding this decision very like the Young Master. "Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position?" he asked, and the boy shrugged.

"I don't care."

"Surely there is something you desire?"

"Nope."

"Ciel Phantomhive," the demon said, the name bringing a smile to his lips. It was perfect on his tongue, the boy in general was perfect. He always had been. "Do not be so stubborn, make a wish. No matter the size of it, I shall grant it for you. Anything, so long as it does not involve raising the dead. That tends to get quite messy."

The boy wanted to shout in annoyance, to make the annoying 'demon' shut up. "If you want me to grant a stupid wish so badly, then I want you to stay by my side."

The room fell silent, and the boy, realizing what he said, opened his cerulean eyes wide in embarrassment. "No, I mean-"

"So be it," the demon replied, causing the boy to freeze.

"What?"

"I said I will do it. I will stay by your side, obey you and only you, and do everything in my power to protect you." The boy watched him skeptically, his eyes wide at everything the demon was saying.

"I –I didn't ask for all of that!" he said. The man smiled.

"But if I am to stay by your side, these are things that must be done."

"I didn't mean it, you don't have to… I was just saying the first thing that popped into my head!"

"I am glad that you had me in your mind at the time."

"Not like that! I just— what about family?" the boy asked, looking for any way out of this situation.

"I have none," the demon replied.

"Wife? Girlfriend?" he asked.

"I am single."

"But… staying by my side…. You do realize how long that would be right? Forever."

"I really have no reason to not be able to grant your wish. Your forever and my forever are very different you see, so until the day you breath your last breath, I will be by your side." The boy groaned, realizing that he trapped himself. There was no way the 'demon' was going to let him make a new wish. And even if he didn't, there was no way this guy was really a demon so it didn't matter anyways in the long run. He would leave once his wounds were healed.

"Okay, enough with the joking."

"I do not joke, please believe me," came the reply. The boy huffed and crossed his arms.

"Whatever. We can talk more about this later. Anyways, I've told you my name, so tell me yours. It's rude to stay in someone's home and not even give them your name." the man relaxed on the bed a little more, leaning back on his arms as he looked over towards the beautiful boy.

"I don't have one, my masters who I make a contract with name me." The boy sighed.

"Well then, seeing as we haven't made a 'contract'," (he said that part with air quotations), "I'll let you use the name your last master gave you." He paused when the demon didn't say anything. "Well? What was it?"

Standing up from the bed despite the pain flooding through him, the demon stood in front of the boy and got down on one knee, ignoring the protests his body sent him. "If that is the case, then you, my Young Master, may call me Sebastian Michaelis."