II. Bohemian Rhapsody
Sebastian knew that, to blend in with the civilians of London, he had to pretend to be cold. He drew his coat around his shoulders and kept his lapels closed with a leather-gloved hand. It amused him to see the streets full to bursting, everything from shop windows to children's faces lit up gaily. It was most definitely Christmastime.
With his free hand, Sebastian pulled on the reins just so, coaxing the horses to a stop just outside Ciel's preferred sweet shop. It too was decorated with garland, and a lavish Christmas tree stood in the window. From the looks of it, the tree had been frosted with powdered sugar to create the illusion of freshly fallen snow on its boughs.
“Young master, we've arrived,” Sebastian called into the blessedly warm carriage (blessedly warm for the young master, that was. The butler could care less), not surprised by the young master's curt remark.
“I know that we've arrived. Don't announce everything with such an air.” Ciel huffed, replacing his scarf and gloves so that less of him was exposed to the cold. Grabbing his cane in a black-covered hand, he knew that he had to be especially careful. A thin sheet of ice stood on the steps leading up to the doorway, and he knew deep in his heart that his butler would probably enjoy seeing him fall on his bum.
As if he'd let that happen.
Falling on the ice, however, was the least of his worries as Sebastian opened the door for him and extended a hand for the young master to take. Ciel was more focused on the music that came from inside the large shop, which was typically quite, save for the giggles of children. Honestly, it was like being in a circus sometimes, it was so noisy. It was music, today, however.
Seeing the puzzled look on Ciel's face, Sebastian couldn't help but to smile. “It's a group of performers. Bohemian. Most likely related to Mr. Antonín.”
Mr. Antonín Hajek ran the Mueller Sweets Shop, having inherited it from old man Mueller when he died. Ciel resisted the urge to smile like a child whenever he saw Antonín, for he'd been an old associate of his father and a constant visitor, always with sweets in hand. It had become inappropriate to do so, however.
“Welcome, Master Phantomhive!” Antonín smiled joyously when Ciel came into the shop, his eyes on the musical group. Ciel noticed with a scowl that the youngest of the performers, a girl, around his age, was playing the violin with great proficiency. Much better than himself.
“Hello, Mr. Hajek. Please prepare the usual.” Sebastian smiled, putting a hand on Ciel's shoulder.
“I could have done it,” The young master muttered, obviously a bit cross with his butler's actions. His eyes never left the young violinist, not for a second. Quickly, though, he looked away when she looked at him, finishing the chord for Silent Night.
“Azurový.” She said with a smile, though Ciel didn't understand. He looked to Sebastian for a translation, and was responded with a chuckle and a grin.
“She's likening you to the color 'sky blue,' young master.”
He supposed that was it. His name, French for 'sky.' The vast, endless sky. And he was wearing all blue, with a blue overcoat and blue trim on his hat.
“Yes. I guess.... I'm sky blue.” Ciel murmured to himself, glancing up at the sky above. It was only four short years ago that he had his face and hands pressed against the shop window, marveling at the snow falling from the heavens. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead against the frigid glass again, remembering how his mother pulled him back.
When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned around quickly, thinking for a moment, that perhaps, just perhaps...
But instead of his beautiful mother, smiling lovingly at him, Sebastian was there. “Young master,” He smiled, though it wasn't loving. “It's time to go home.”
“Oh... yes. We've gotten what we came for. Let's go home.” Ciel nodded, leaving the shop quickly. He watched as Sebastian carefully set the parcels down beside the young master.
However, he didn't leave the carriage to drive the horses home. Instead, he sat across from Ciel and closed the carriage door, pulling him against his chest quickly, all in the same motion. For a moment, Ciel couldn't help but be slightly amazed.
“Why are you doing this?” Ciel murmured, hearing his hat fall back onto the seat beside Sebastian. Neither made a move to get it.
“You miss her. So imagine that I'm her for a minute, and cry it out. I know you want to.”
Tired, cold, and frustrated, Ciel didn't complain. He did shed a few tears, though he couldn't pretend Sebastian was his mother. The smell was drastically different.
He found that he didn't entirely dislike it.
