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A sound of surprise catches at the back of her throat as she goes completely rigid in Ciel's arms, motionless and under his complete control. His lips eased over hers carefully with an underlying dominance she had expected and his hand moved to cup her cheek as his other slid downward to take hold of her waist. When he made the brave attempt to draw her toward him, her shock dissipated and she flailed awkwardly before grabbing onto his shoulders and roughly shoving him backward.

With her head hung down, eyes shielded by a curtain of her own hair she was finally able to take a breath, "There's a line between master and maid, Earl Phantomhive. Although I may have…teetered…upon this line, I have never once been foolish enough to take a grand leap across it. Please do not mistake me for such a fool. I appreciate what you have done for me, I have appreciated your games, your daring conversations, and near friendship, but I cannot participate in such activities with an engaged man especially when he is my master. Now if you will excuse me I must get back to work. I think I have wasted enough of your time."

"You have never wasted a second of my—"

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her apron as she lifted her head slightly, her eyes decisive and cold, "Master Phantomhive, please just allow me to be a proper maid."

Ciel stubbornly opened his mouth to further argue but Danielle was far too quick. With a nimble turn on her heel, she was already out the door. Cursing aloud, he rushed to his desk, sliding his hands across the surface and knocking its contents down in a violent strike. As a flurry of papers, pens, and porcelain was sent flying to the floor of his office, Danielle stumbled down the hall to collapse on the staircase in exhaustion. Ciel had undoubtedly drained her. Her eyes were beginning to sting with tears as she brought a shaking hand to her mouth, fingers brushing over her lips as the memory of his cold mouth flashed through her mind. She shut her eyes in a futile attempt to shut out the memory, an unnamable feeling flooding her veins at the recalled sensation. She had felt neither compelled to return his kiss nor to shove him away as she had done. Yet she could not afford to be toyed with, she could not afford to be used as some sick "pawn" in Ciel Phantomhive's game of Life.

Despite this knowledge; however, she could not help the lingering feeling she had just made a mistake.

Muttering a quiet curse, she dropped her head into her hands and tangled her fingers in her hair. Her efforts to calm herself down were shortly interrupted by a familiar hand on her shoulder and a soft inquisition, "Dannie? Are you okay?"

With the need for comfort overriding any fear, any apprehension, any embarrassment, Danielle recklessly leapt forward from her place on the stair to wrap her arms around the male's waist. As they slid down together to sit on a single step, she found herself burying her face against his shoulder, her voice muffled by his shirt as she spoke, "I need you."

And so she had him.

Finny's arms slipped around her comfortingly, his hand smoothing slow circles over her lower back as he nodded, "Come, let's go somewhere more private." He helped her to her feet, offering a gentle smile as he brushed her hair behind her ear then leading her out of the main parlor and down a hallway to his room. Shutting the door behind himself, he gave her waist a reassuring squeeze, "It's okay." He walked over to his bed, sitting down with her and smiling again, gesturing out with his free hand as he said, "I'm all ears."

She did not need to hear any more than that. Before she could second-guess herself, the words were tumbling out of her mouth. Without meaning to, she told him everything. She explained how she came to be in Elizabeth's custody, how her relationship with Ciel had evolved, how the fear she felt toward being vulnerable fueled the need for her to draw away from her master, and with quickening breaths and an overwhelming urge to cry, she told him about her past. She was choking on overwhelming anxiety and unshed tears by the time she was done and Finnian was pretty sure his heart had sunken down into his stomach. But there was no judgment in the way he hushed her rapid breathing, no disgust in the way he pulled her toward himself, no ulterior motives in the way he brushed his lips against her temple, against her cheek, against her hair. "Please do not ever define yourself by your past. Fate has saved you, as it's saved everybody working here. You were meant to be here, to be rebuilt…as all of us have been."

"Finny, I don't think I can be rebuilt—"

He cut her off before she could finish her statement, his voice uncharacteristically firm as he asserted, "Anyone can be rebuilt. Anyone can overcome their demons. You are not damaged goods, you are you and you will cut that damned past off your shadow in time. You just have to believe in yourself to do it and let people help you along the way."

At this he squeezed her shoulder gently and offered her a smile that made her heart stumble. A quick recovery had her eyebrows creasing in worry, "But Master Phantomhive is going to—"

Gently placing a finger over her full lips, Finny silenced her again. With a short chuckle at her widened eyes and otherwise confused expression he added, "The young master will figure himself out. For now, let's concentrate on you. Let's focus on keeping you comfortable and allowing you the time to work out the kinks in your own armor. I will stick to you as much as I can. Think of me as your faithful watchdog, I'll keep you from getting cornered like that again, okay?"

Before she was even cognizant of the relief flooding through her system, she nodded. Her solace came in his warm smile, her own lips pulling upward at the corners as his arms tightened just slightly to give her the security she never knew she needed. "Thank you…for everything."

A laugh, a laugh that was both airy and free, a laugh that filled the room and made her feel alive, "Oh, anything for you."

While Finny's body kept Danielle warm, Ciel seemed to be only warmed by his own anger. Sebastian's presence against the doorway was unheeded as the young male continued to knock down books, chess boards, and boxes of things far too expensive to sustain a fall to the hardwood floor without shattering. After a calculated pause the demon spoke up, "Young master—"

He was cut off by Ciel's sharp, "What!?" The teenager punctuated his question by throwing down another book. When his butler did not respond, his eyes narrowed in frustration and he stalked toward him to grab him by the lapels of his jacket and pull him down to his eye level, "What the hell do you want?"

"To calm you down of course."

This comment earned a bitter scoff and a loosening hold on his suit jacket, "I don't need to be—"

"I take it your conversation with Danielle failed to go as planned." Ciel's eyes narrowed at this remark, his lips pressing into a thin line as his fingers reflexively clenched into the clothing again. "Oh now, don't take it out on me, young master." There's a small smile tilting at Sebastian's lips and it makes Ciel feel sick. So with a quick shove, he turns away from the demon, walking over to the large glass window to peer into the immaculate garden below. An image of her smile flashes in his mind and his fist slams against the thick glass.

"Get out. It's an order."

And so Sebastian leaves the room, entirely amused with his master's teenage struggles. Ciel feels as if he is drowning; drowning in the weight of what happened, in the warm memory of her soft lips pressed against his, in his fear of pushing her further away while he needed her near, so near. He leans forward to rest his forehead against the cool surface of the window, his chest feeling as tight as his throat. He had never intended to kiss her. But with her face so close to his, with his driving need to bring back the obnoxious, insolent brat of a girl to him again gaining strength with every passing moment...it happened. And he would be the worst of liars if he tried to say the contact did not bring him a thrill.

His forehead thumps against the glass weakly before he turns around and slides down its surface to sit upon the floor, his back resting against the window pane. He cannot get her out of his head, she fascinated him as much as she tormented him. He wanted to solve her puzzle then throw her out on the street at the same time he wanted to figure her out only to treasure her, to take solace in their similarities and gain a companion who would not ultimately kill him in the end.

These feelings were dangerous, he knew. He was meant to live a life of sole revenge and adding her to the mix would cause complications the young Phantomhive simply did not need. But, oh, how he wanted to complicate it all. How he wanted to ruin his plans just to be on the receiving end of that smile. He's cursing at this thought, suddenly finding himself hopeful the window behind him would disappear and he would fall straight down to a death empty of thoughts of her dark eyes and soft lips.

He doesn't know how to deal with these feelings, doesn't know what it means to care for someone anymore. The loss of his parents left his heart in tatters which he kept caged behind the thick steel of his ribs. Yet something about her made him want to loosen the chains. Perhaps it was their startling similarity, their shared experiences, their shared pain, which allowed him to feel for her when he had not felt anything for anyone in so long. He could not put his finger on what it was, but there was something special about Danielle. Something special that he felt the crushing desire to have for himself.

Hours passed and with his composure finally regained, Ciel quietly edged out of his office to her assigned room, unsurprised to find the quarters empty. Resigning himself to a chair, the young male rested his chin on his palm and rehearsed his planned explanation of his actions in his head again. When she would inevitably walk through that door, he would be there to explain himself, to apologize, and to (hopefully) regain some semblance of their previous normalcy.

She never retired to her room that night.

My hand slipped.

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