Can the Damned be Loved?

Flipping open the embossed lid, you checked your pocket watch for the umpteenth time that morning. It was nearing 9 and you still did not see the slate haired earl and the possibility of being stood up entered your mind incessantly. Couples passed by you, entering the lush park laughing and conversing happily. You smiled and nodded to men who tipped their hats to you, trying to distract yourself from obsessing too much.
“(y/n)?”
Your ears perked up as the low, regal voice called your name, “Am I late?”
With a large smile you spun around, your hoop skirt flowing with the swift motion, “ No at all Mr. Phantomhive, you’re right on time!”
Ciel’s pale cheeks flushed noticeably, forcing him to quickly gaze at the street.
“Sebastian did not wish to accompany me today, so I am here alone,” he started purposefully hiding the fact that he ordered the demonic butler to stay at the manor.
~ “Sebastian, this is an order, you will remain here while I go out!” The young lord sternly commanded.
The amber eyed butler looked at his master with an amused face, “Are you sure you would not wish for me to join you, I could walk behind, and stay out of sight?”
Ciel adjusted his blue top-hat glaring at Sebastian in the mirrors reflection, “ I said no. I will return in several hours.”
“But young master…”
“I said NO!!” ~
A gloved hand was brought to his forehead, how difficult Sebastian could be. Ciel shook off the impending headache and proceeded to walk with you down the streets of London. He listened quietly as you chattered on about the weather, your family and interests. He found a strange solace in your voice, and the warm sensations in his stomach returned. Feeling uneasy, he stared at his dark blue coat and shorts, his knee socks and polished shoes. How did he look in your eyes? Was he an Earl or a child? You were only 14-15 and he 13 going on 14, not as large of a difference as he had originally thought. When Ciel discovered this useful bought of information, his heart did a sudden leap. Out of his peripheral vision, he observed your profile and took notice of how perfectly you held yourself. Your dresses were well made, and your jewelry was finely crafted. Surly you had to be engaged? This thought made something inside the young earl boil with envy. He imagined the lucky man asking for your hand, ready to make you his wife. Ciel unconsciously clenched his teeth and closed his blue eye in a jealous aggravation.
“Mr. Phantomhive, are you feeling alright?” You asked worriedly, “You’re being very quiet today.”
Ciel snapped out of his hateful fantasy, “No, I’m fine. It’s just unbearably hot today,” he said looking up at the sun.
The two of you found yourselves standing precariously near a small outdoor stand that displayed dozens of metal cups, the hefty merchant going on about some sweet yellow drink that promised to relieve the oppressive heat.
“Mr. Phantomhive, might you like a drink of this?” You pointed over to the stand.
Ciel followed your slender finger and immediately blinked in disbelief, “You want me to accept a drink from that?”
Laughing at the young earl’s innocent arrogant reaction, you moseyed over to the stand, swaying your hips with each step. Ciel remained rooted to the sidewalk, his gloved hands wringing the brass handle of his cane in insecurity. How could he, an earl and dog of the queen, let a peasant’s beverage pass his privileged and refined lips? It was almost blasphemy! Yet there you where walking back with a smug smile on your lush lips, holding two cups with the cloudy yellow drink. Your hands gripped the width of the cups tightly, so as to not spill the liquid.
“It’s very good, it’s lemonade,” you chirped and thrusted a full cup into Ciel’s reluctant grasp.
The blue eyed earl eyed the drink as if it was plotting against him in the most devious ways. Looking to you, he felt his mouth go dry as your long neck undulated with each gulp of the cool drink, your pulsing vein apparent underneath the soft skin. Ciel tentatively removed his eye from your pleased face and sniffed his beverage.
As the cool lemonade slid down your parched throat, you moaned in delight. The drink iced your insides, refreshing and revitalizing you under the intense summer heat.
“ MMmm that was delicious! Oh come now, it’s not going to bite you!” you giggled licking the sweet and tart liquid off your lips.
Ciel did not answer. He just glared lightly at your jest, “I know it wont! As an earl I just want to make sure it’s not poisoned. There are many out there who covet my fortune.”
Shaking your head incredulously, your hair brushing your neck and jaw, you came closer to the boy and let your eyelids seductively rest on your entrancing eyes.
“Please try it? I did and I’m ok. If you do…I’ll give you a reward,” you attempted to reason.
The proposition had brought your faces precariously close together, and the emerging reddish hue adorning Ciel’s skin encouraged your stipulation. The heat pounded in Ciel’s face, your pink lips were so close! Your eyes were incredibly haunting and the perfume you wore wafted into every fiber of his being. His stony expression distorted and shifted in the murky reflection. Beads of icy sweat soaked the leather gloved hand, chilling the manicured fingers beneath. Gulping deeply, vocal chords paralyzed by the close proximity, the slate haired boy shakily closed the distance between cup and lips. Bringing the rim to his parted mouth he took a heart swig and swallowed the tart drink. Shockingly, it was very good! Refreshing and crisp, the perfect mixture of sweetness and bitterness. You watched as his throat moved under his pale flesh and your heart raced. He was handsome indeed…
Once finished, Ciel unceremoniously wiped his mouth on his sleeve, “Uggg, there I drank it. Are you satisfied?” he barked tilting the cup’s empty shell.
Smiling happily you nodded your head, your silky hair dancing in the sunlight. Inhaling deeply, he took in the sweet scent of your hair, secretly wishing that he could have this with him always.
“Very satisfied. And as promised, your reward.”
Closing your eyes, you leaned forward. The wondrous smell of expensive cologne filled your senses, the orange and olive oil soap imported from Italy emanated from deep inside his skin. Not sure what to do, Ciel panicked and snapped his eye shut, the redness in his cheeks practically glowing, the young earl hurriedly rushed in. the clumsiness of his impulse was so poorly timed that the resulting reward was a painful headache.
The crack of colliding skulls caused passers by to inquire about your well being.
“Yes quite alright,” you reassured rubbing the swollen welt.
Ciel was mortified, grabbing your slim wrist and all but dragged you away from the lemonade stand.
“C..Ciel stop!” you wrenched your wrist free from the earl’s surprising grip.
The boy started a the forceful jerk but quickly composed what was left of his pride.
“I apologize. But it seems I’ve lost track of time…I have to be in a very important meeting,” Ciel professionally explained.
Shifting from foot to foot, your mind tried to compute the sudden dejection. This was a whole new feeling for you, and it struck the wrong chord in you.
“I see…,“ you muttered.
Detecting the saddened tone to your normally cheerful voice, Ciel glanced over at you. Upon seeing your lovely face dark with an angry red, he mentally kicked himself. He did not mean to cut this day short, he just had no feasible idea how to resume the outing. Running the scenes over and over in his head, you were about to kiss him (on the cheek mind you) and acting like a daft child, he head butted you instead. Gingerly touching the generous bruise on his forehead, Ciel sucked in a defeated sigh.
“Well, my meeting isn’t that,”
“No it’s fine. I’m sorry for taking time out of your busy schedule Mr. Phantomhive. Good day,” you curtly interjected.
Curtsying low, Ciel really felt like a fool. You rose and spun on your heel, popping your parasol over your shoulder, you tightened your grasp on the handle and walked away from the ashamed earl.