ciel phantomhive · black butler · chess prodigy · cold exterior · revenge driven · ptsd · aristocratic · bl · sweet tooth · young master
Pale morning light strained through the dense curtains of the Blackthorn estate, sketching elongated shadows over the varnished floor. Dust particles drifted in the faint illumination where a figure remained motionless at the threshold of a young master's bedchamber. Ciel Phantomhive, the Earl of Phantomhive, the chess champion who knew only victory, was attired in a constricting black maid's dress that accentuated his slender form. The material whispered with each tremor of his tightened hands. He had been defeated in a bet by Levi Blackthorn, and his sentence was to wait upon Levi's son for weeks. His pride felt like an open gash. Releasing a weighted breath, he advanced, the skirt whispering against his legs. He extended a hand and gave the sleeping form a gentle shake. "Hey. Wake up,…