Hi guys! This fic is Sebastian's point of view. The story takes place after Season 2 of Black Butler. Anyways, you know the drill. Review equals love! I hope you enjoy!

*Extra: I want to sincerely thank all my reviewers so far. It hasn't even been a full day, and I already have 4 reviews! I am (immensely) pleased. I especially want to thank my guest Grace, who kindly gave me such a juicy review! It's so sweet! I absolutely adore it, Love!*

~Lycoris~

Red is such a detestable color. It is the very symbol of passionate outbursts and smoldering fires held within the hearts of humans and demons alike. The symbol of both love and hate, two antonyms that have nothing to do with each other except for the fact that they're both red.

But of course, demons cannot -will not- love. For love is nothing more than a poisonous flower -taking root in the deep confines of the heart and devouring, absorbing, relishing the cursed holder's very essence as the vexing emotion grows and grows, sprouting wicked flowers of desire and loyalty. It poisons the damned until the world turns black and their bodies rot in their graves. Love is much like the lycoris: the flower that blazes the earth. The flower that blossoms on grave soil.

Hatred, however, is a different story altogether. It empowers; forces the wielder to take action. It drives him forward with shrieks and bites and claws, not allowing any hesitation, until the hated is ripped into shreds. Until the hated has been driven to the fiery pits of Hell, burning as the red, red fire licks at their flesh and devours their minds. Sebastian Michaelis understands hatred.

But what of these other emotions?

Indignation, disgust, hatred, sweet, sweet agony….

Sebastian much prefers blue. Calm, bitter, regal, logical; it is the exact opposite of red. The rain to the fire. But sometimes, the fire is too strong for the rain, and the tranquil, composed blue evaporates into nothing more than vapors. Such is the way the demon is feeling, as he watches his master slumber, eyelashes tickling smooth, porcelain cheeks as the newborn demon lives through his dream world.

So typical of the has-been human child. It seems that his lord is grasping whatever edges of humanity is left in that delicate human façade.

Sebastian can feel his anger bubbling up now, the disgust, the hatred, the yearning that will never -can never- be satiated. Garnet eyes can practically see the remnants of the once-pure soul, trapped forever by the tainted seal of immortality, and he finds that he utterly despises the one he calls "master". His blood-jeweled eyes narrow as he watches the defenseless boy dream in the arms of Morpheus. Butler or not, his canines sharpen with immaculate hatred, eyes glimmering a sinful vermilion as bloodlust bubbles through his body. Lips quirk upward in a disgusted smile. He shall give his young lord a fitful sleep to last an eternity.

For if he did not, then what kind of butler would he be?

Sebastian's eyes suddenly narrow as a thought suddenly dawns on him.

My master? My lord? Oh dear. It seems I've grown quite attached to him, the demon's fingers twitch and his lips pull downward into a grimace. His eyes glower down at the boy, so full of animosity that it seems to be as shredding as a certain death god's chainsaw. It is better to nip this problem in the bud right now.

He steps forward, closer, closer, listening to the boy's quiet, even breath, watching as the small chest rises and falls, rises and falls. Blue-black hair snakes its path across the pillow, eyelids flutter, pink lips parted like petals on blooming roses. The boy shifts in his sleep, his porcelain face now towards Sebastian: so innocent, like a butterfly that stole the nectar from a bee. As if he is just waiting to be stung -daring, even. Small fingers wrap around snow white sheets, legs curling to his chest in a fetal position, showing that insecurity is present, hiding behind the mask of pride and haughty arrogance situated on his face during waking hours only to reveal itself in slumber.

Oh, how Sebastian enjoys watching his master sleep! If only to see moments like this. Of pure, unadulterated weakness!

The demon brings his white-gloved hands to his mouth, gently pulling off the gloves with his teeth, his eyes on his master all the while. The yearning to feel the youth's blood trickle decadently, tauntingly, across his flesh consumes him, the emptiness in his stomach shrieking for fulfillment. He brings his dark-nailed fingers forward, ill intent marked with every taut muscle, like a cat ready to pounce. His garnet eyes shine vermilion in the hours between darkness and sunrise. Just a little further….

"Sebastian, stay with me tonight. Until I fall asleep…. It's just a simple order." The voice of his master suddenly echoes in his head, broken and bleeding and forlorn and sewing itself together just as it was when first ordered. The voice is so trusting, so genuine, and oh-so-foolish! To trust a devil as one submits himself to the paralysis of sleep is an act set aside for only the naïve, the innocent. Yet Sebastian had stayed, protecting the boy from night terrors, running gloved hands through blue-black locks, hearing the soft sigh of approval from his lord as sleep began its descent into the young, battered mind. He could've killed the boy so easily, could have stolen that delectable soul and devoured it -savoring it just as it was meant to be savored. But no, he let the boy live.

Now, Sebastian finds his hand has stopped, just in front of his master's face. Small puffs of warm breath caress his hand, warming his fingers. The butler's mind conjures images of what could have been: the body of a boy on a cold stone bench, cold and lifeless and so immorally beautiful as the moonlight makes pale, dead skin glow with its ethereal light. Unseeing cobalt blue eyes are wide with rose petal mouth gaping, countenance etched with the agony requested. Demonic canines sinking into supple flesh, tearing tissue from bone, blood dripping on the floor like rubies, only to be licked clean by a sinful tongue. The soul, seasoned with pain and vengeance and despair being shredded and torn beyond recognition, until it is nothing more than a wailing, eternal mass consumed by a demon. Bones litter, white and morbid and staring and mocking, as if chanting, "what now, what now, what now?!"

Until there is nothing left.

And here he is again, in the room of his young master, his pale fingers trembling as pain sears through the demon's heart like red-hot knives, jabbing and prodding and blissfully sweet.

Contorting, twisting, changing into something akin to affection.

Sebastian's eyes flicker back to garnet and glances at his hand as the warmth of his master's breath strokes it almost lovingly. He glances at the young boy's peaceful, trusting, eternal face and back to his own hand, confusion mounting like piles of rotting corpses. What's holding him back? Why can't he kill the boy?

Because I don't want to….

The thought strikes him in the face, a resounding mental slap that leaves him breathless. Of course he wants to kill the child! After all the service that Sebastian had done for him, the demon certainly deserves his soul, his very life if nothing more. Garnet eyes narrow as an internal battle wages war inside of him. Cold philosophy or blazing sentiments? Which would win?

He wills his hand to move, to do something. To move forward, or to retreat, he doesn't care which as long as his hand no longer stays frozen in suspension. Sebastian surprises himself as he runs smooth fingers through the child's hair, his lips twitching up into a smile as warmth spreads through him, liquefying his innards. It seems like the sentiments had won.

So soft….

His gaze relaxes, his grimace forgotten, as dark, silky slivers of hair caress his fingers. Hatred, indignation and pain clash and twist, contort and smolder into an emotion that he can't quite understand.

A poison that runs through his veins.

This is no way a demon should feel. To allow oneself to feel such emotions would certainly spell the end. They would give way to breathtaking agony, a brand that sears his heart and will never disappear even when death is imminent. Sebastian knows this, can foresee the day that such sentimentalities would kill him -can actually feel the noose tighten around his neck this instant, in fact. Yet, he finds that he doesn't care.

How on earth could he allow such a strong-willed, arrogant, prideful brat seduce him? Even with the boy's butterfly touches and cold-as-steel voice, with soft, pale flesh and sparkling blue gems for eyes and a constitution that would make even the angels themselves envious….how could he -a demon- fall prey to a mere child? Indeed, it should have been the other way around.

"S-Seb…astian…" the child suddenly moans. Black-nailed fingers pull back automatically, breathing ceases. But the boy doesn't awaken, though his small lips part and glistening beads of sweat tickle alabaster skin. His breathing grows more erratic, moans issuing forth from wanton lips, delicate eyebrows furrowing as small hands clench and crinkle snow-white sheets. And he writhes.

Sebastian's lips quirk into a devilish smirk

But maybe -in spite of everything- the demon has preyed upon the child all along? After all, there is more than one way to exploit a soul….

Blazing through his body like fire.

Sebastian's fingers trace their way across a smooth, pale cheek, and a cobalt blue eye opens. The child's face is heated with an endearing blush, small chest rising and falling in quick succession. His eye is still glassy from sleep and desire. The boy takes a deep, calming breath, innocently unaware of the obvious scent of his arousal as he quickly regains his iron-barred composure.

"Sebastian?" the boy asks, sitting up and breaking the contact. He rubs his eyes until the glass clears, then allows annoyance to simmer in his blue gem, the mark of the covenant on his right eye glowing faintly. "What the devil are you doing in my room? I haven't called you."

The demon's smirk widens, his vermilion eyes glimmering hungrily. "Ah, but you have, my lord. Have you forgotten so soon?"

The demon-ling narrows his eyes, then widens them as memory is seemingly thrust into his face. His china-doll face flushes as he chews on his bottom lip, blue eyes morphing into red with the force of his emotions.

"Impudence! I have done no such thing!" he finally snaps -defensively, Sebastian notices with amusement- as he pulls his hand back for a slap.

Sebastian catches the small hand with ease, eyes locking onto his prey with such intensity that seems to heat his young lord's face even more. His master's crimson eyes narrow with an attempt to preserve any remaining dignity, as well as to hide the flash of fear -a flash of need- that flickers through the twin seas of blood. Teeth gnash, eyes glare, lips pout.

The butler smiles.

A gasp escapes those rose petal lips as Sebastian gently pushes the demon-ling back onto the bed, straddling him.

"Wha-"

Lips brush upon lips, as soft and delicate as a butterfly's kiss. Gentle, affectionate. A brush of silk on skin. The body beneath him trembles, young muscles tense, relaxes, then tenses again; almost as if he is trying to decide whether or not he wants this. A teasing pull on the boy's bottom lip decides for him. Moans drift into Sebastian's mouth, as sweet and thick as honey, as harmonious as an angel's song, as beautiful as heaven. The butler watches in amusement through half-lidded eyes as his master's blood colored orbs flutter closed, mouth pressing closer to his. Then he gently runs his tongue across those pink, rose petal lips.

Oh, how he wants to paint those pink roses a burning red!

The demon-ling hesitantly (nervously, to the butler's greatest pleasure) allows access, his body flushing and trembling and so, so lovely. Desire manifests itself onto the boy's face, covenant glowing with its otherworldly light beneath fluttering butterfly lashes. Sebastian can practically feel the silent order his master is giving him. Hurry up! But the demon takes his time, teasing, taunting, tasting the scent of his master's sweet honeysuckle soul. The boy moans and grabs the front of Sebastian's tailcoat, pulling him closer to the small body beneath.

Sebastian pulls his mouth away and descends to the boy's neck, sucking and licking and smirking as the trembling increases. Small hands wrap around the dark strands of his hair, pulling slightly as soft gasps and heady moans and kitten-like mewls fill the bedroom. Buttons are loosened; trousers are pulled clean off silken flesh. Desires burn within demonic bodies, swirling and tainting and sinful and such a beautiful poison! Teasing butterfly kisses descend lower and lower and-

"Ah!"

He has found his Lycoris.