Chapter Three YNs POV
Chapter three; Y/N pov :)
Once Sebastian had finished my makeup I was escorted to the dining room for breakfast, Despite my protests that he’d made me look "entirely too proper," a single glance in the vanity mirror had silenced me. My wariness had faded behind pounds of powder, I looked flawless. I sat down at the wooden dining table, across from Ciel. Today we’re having kedgeree. Not my favorite. This corset is making my back hurt and Ciel keeps talking about business duties and oh my god this powder is itchy. Where is Sebastian with the tea, I need to wash this fish down. “Right, Addisyn,” I hear Ciel say. I look up at him. “Uhm, yes. Right, Ciel.” He looks at my face, eyes squinting, “You seem to be pre-occupied, Addisyn, have you been listening?” Ciel says, as Sebastian finally arrives with the tea. I immediately gulp it down the hot tea burning my throat, regardless I want to be excused. “Yes, Ciel.” I say, preparing to stand. “May I be escorted to the garden?” Ciel looks at me, annoyed. “Yes, you may.” I stand up looking to Sebastian, ready for him to escort me. “Sebastian?” He glances over to me. “Yes, young mistress?” I stand, ready to leave immediately, “May you escort me to the garden?” I ask, he smiles, “Yes, Young mistress.” As we’re headed to the garden I complain “Sebastian, if I have to stay in this lace for one more minute, I’m going to burn the manor down.” I stopped by the stone bench, my chest heaving, but the corset wouldn't allow me a full breath. Sebastian stopped exactly three paces behind me, his hands tucked perfectly behind his back. He didn't offer comfort. He didn't even look sympathetic. He just stood there, waiting for his next order like a well-oiled machine.It was his indifference that broke me. I turned to face him, my face hot under the pounds of powder. I looked at him, really looked at him and his expression was as smooth and unreadable as the tea service he’d just cleared. He didn't care that I was suffocating. He didn't care about anything. "Sebastian," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of heat and frustration. "I don't want to go back inside." He tilted his head slightly, a gesture so polite it felt like a slap. "As you wish, Young Mistress. Shall I fetch your embroidery, or perhaps a book to pass the time?" “No." I took a step into his space, my hand trembling as I reached for his cravat, clutching the silk just to see a spark of something in those crimson eyes. "I want you to make me forget. About Ciel, and the tea, and this entire suffocating house." He didn't move. He didn't lean in. He simply looked down at my hand on his throat with the same detached curiosity he’d show a smudge on a silver platter. “Is that what you require?” he asked. His voice was dark and velvety, but it was hollow completely devoid of any warmth or desire. He wasn't asking because he wanted me he was asking for a command.
“Yes.”
To be continued…
