Bittersweet SebastianxCiel

Chapter 6

A dreamless, no, nightmare-less night, was a foreign concept to the blind Phantomhive. Even on his medication, the nightmares still lingered. Yet in them, he could see, he had seen the world with two eyes once before. But oh how he wished that he couldn't.

Ciel woke up in a cold sweat, panting in short breaths as he adjusted to his surroundings... It was the fifth time that he'd startled awake that night. It was become a nuisance, truly. All he wanted was normal sleep. Well his normal included maybe one or two vivid nightmares... surely not five. He couldn't even remember a time when he had slept undisturbed the whole night through.

Ciel knew that sleeping without his medication would be a lost cause, so he decided to re-listen to Sebastian's recording as a distraction. He reached over to his nightstand, and felt the items on his desk. He'd found one, but after briefly running his hand over its surface, realized that it wasn't it. He ran his fingers over the others as well, searching for the tape. When his efforts proved fruitless, he retreated with a tired sigh.

Someone took Sebastian's tape He thought.

"No." he corrected aloud. "Someone took my tape."

Ciel laid in silence, despite knowing what it inevitably brings.

Who could've taken my tape? He thought. And why?

He ultimately shrugged off the thought, and instead settled further into the blankets.

Yet as he sat in the silence, he could do nothing against the intruding thoughts. It was like a record that he couldn't stop, forever spinning, spinning, spinning...

His thoughts slowly rolled back to the fire... He could feel the flames' boiling touch even now. The swelling heat spread through his forearm, sending a surge of shivers in its place. Then there was the memory of burning, putrid flesh... slowly wasting away under the fire's cruel contact.

Ciel's stomach churned. He could feel the warm bile slowly rise.

"No." he quaked.

But it was too late. Before he knew it, he was dashing into his bathroom, frantically searching for the toilet. When his foot came in contact with the smooth porcelain, he threw his body over the bowl and emptied out his insides. He convulsed lightly as he wretched, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

Finally, when there was nothing left but stomach acid, Ciel collapsed back down on the ground. He brought his knees to his chest, breathing in short pants. His throat burned from use and his head was pounding.

He hung his head in between his knees and groaned.

He sat on the cold bathroom floor, slowly rocking his body for hours on end. And he didn't even notice the church tolls, and then finally, the bedroom door opening.

"Ciel?" a voice called out.

At the call of his name, Ciel slowly raised his head. Yet he didn't respond, he simply continued to rock.

Ciel heard heavy footsteps approach the bathroom, and when the bathroom door was opened, the intruder gave a long, exasperated sigh.

"You made a mess." The voice said coldly.

Ciel cringed when he recognized who it was.

"Dr. Faustus." He murmured.

Claude then inwardly grinned at the sight. The boy was rocking himself in a fetal position, nightgown stained in bile. His hair was slicked with sweat and his cheeks glistened from pained tears.