Bitter rabbit.

Ciel should’ve known by now that she wasn’t easily exterminated. Even the whitest lie wouldn’t send her off. It’s almost like she’s suddenly made him a priority at the top of her task list. But why? Words exchanged were untraceable at this point in time, fuzzy with confessions and–oh God, he cried in front of her, didn’t he? 

“Don’t–” He interrupted her, his hand motioning for her to stop this…pony show she’s got going for him, “Don’t call me that.” While the door happened to already be closed, he folded his arms over the papers on his desk and buried his head within them, wishing for all sounds and voices to cease, just…shut up, for a good hour. By then, he’d hoped she’d at least get him a cup of coffee with that aspirin. And perhaps while that brews, make an attempt to psychoanalyze why he is the way he is.

“No, I will vomit,” he muttered underneath his cavern of arms. Why was he so unwilling, so cruelly avoidant? How does he expect to speak to her in such an ugly fashion after she managed to dig to the very center of his being and burrow gently inside? Was he irritable because of his own self, or because of her finding him out? Would it backfire and hurt her instead? He should’ve called in sick, goddammit.

“…If you have to do something, you can get me the plainest, strongest coffee and a bottle of aspirin. …Thank you.”

‘ My, you’re not one for trying new things are you? That’s probably why you get so sick so easily. Not enough good things going around in your blood stream, sir, ‘ Elizabeth chides softly, attitude changing to that of a mother attempting to get her child to eat vegetables. Her head gives a soft shake at his antic, another sigh escaping past her lips as she decides, for the moment, to give in to what he wants. Though this will probably the last time she obeys so easily when it comes to him hungover. Next time he would try her smoothie, if that would be the last thing she could do before he’d have the chance to fire her.

‘ Fine; I’ll make you some coffee and get some aspirin. But while I’m gone, I’d best suggest versus keeping yourself tilted down, you should probably lay back against your chair and have your head tilted forward. Help keep you awake and refreshed for this lovely beautiful day we’re having. ‘ With that, she shoots the other a quick cheeky grin, with tongue sticking out in a silly fashion-knowing full well Ciel couldn’t reprimand her for her actions when he didn’t see her doing them-and sashays her way out of his office. making sure to close the door softly behind her.

All eyes wondered on the assistant as she’d made her way into the employee’s kitchen, a wave of nervousness washing over her as she, for the first time in her life, attempts to ignore her coworkers. Elizabeth was afraid that they’d figured out just what happened amongst them last night, or worse yet, suspected that she had already begun seducing her boss the day she stepped foot into this office. After all, it would make sense as to why they were whispering amongst one another; or at least that’s what she had been imagining they were doing.

In record speed Elizabeth had made Ciel’s coffee exactly the way he’d like it, soon dashing out of that God forsaken kitchen and taking a quick stop to her office to grab her strongest dosage of aspirin, before finding herself back in the office where sits still looking miserable. Soon handing over his coffee and her bottle of aspirin and taking a step back so he had some space.

…But why though? Why does he hate it? It’s kind of hard to back down from everything he did and said last night. His drawer of excuses is bone dry and his rough, sandpaper exoskeleton washed away with the several glasses of wine, left to be soggy and without abrasive protection. No excuse. Fuck.

So much of this internal monologue happened in the span it took her to get a cup of coffee and pain killers, and it was not enough time to fight with his own self. Damn, she was good at this, and she knows it. At the first whiff of that bittersweet elixir, he lifted his head and quietly received the steaming cup along with a couple pills. Just as asked. Huh. Well, he sipped it and washed them down, and waited for her to get back to work. She did her part so she’ll be out of here in no ti–

Oh.

Oh she didn’t just say that, did she?

As if someone had just insulted his own mother to his face, he carefully set his coffee cup down and leaned back in his chair, offering to her as a response a glare of disbelief. “…Wh-Wha–NO! I would NOT like to discuss what happened last night! Are you aware–”. These walls are paper thin and his voice felt more like a roar that could tear through these dividing borders. “Are you aware,” he forced himself to reply with much less intensity, “that you are NOT a contestant in a publicized dating experiment?! Or are you actually trying to get me fired? Cause every time you bring up something personal in this office, I’m in need of one more day of unemployment. Nothing happened last night. I was drunk. Prince Charming got kicked out of the ball and went home alone and so did you. Fairytale’s over, the end.” 

‘ Tsk tsk Mr.Phantomhive, no need to get so upset! I was simply asking a mere question!~ ‘ The woman purrs softly, a cheeky grin starting to begin on her features as she decides to test the waters a little further. Not giving a single care in the world if he did end up firing her. Since she’s more than certain she’s getting close to being fired anyways.

‘ And no, quite frankly I’m not attempting to get you fired, but what happened has happened. Truthfully, I believe you should talk about it, Prince Charming, since it’s clear this is the first time you’ve done anything like this and it’s clear that it’s bothering you. I’m worried about the fact that it is bothering you, since you didn’t seem to mind what happened last night. ‘ Dear god, she’s bound to get fired, but she can’t help the words that are pouring from her lips. In honesty, Elizabeth is some what hurt in the fact that he seems to be regretting what happened. It’s not as if she were that repulsive a person, right?

Right, as if he'd say that outloud.

"So that's your goal, then? Climb the corporate ladder to find the perfect date? What a catch you are." She is a catch. "I'm not interested in your personal endeavors so what makes you think I'll be losing sleep? If anything I'll be at peace when you're not sucking up all of my oxygen in here." He'll be losing sleep.

Ciel sat up from his slouching position and scooted his chair in, prepared to meet the grind with an even bigger headache and so many accompanying pains to go along with it. "So, while you go back to your desk and cross me off your list, I'll be tending to actual business matters. I'm not taking any calls today either."

Ciel should’ve known by now that she wasn’t easily exterminated. Even the whitest lie wouldn’t send her off. It’s almost like she’s suddenly made him a priority at the top of her task list. But why? Words exchanged were untraceable at this point in time, fuzzy with confessions and–oh God, he cried in front of her, didn’t he? 

“Don’t–” He interrupted her, his hand motioning for her to stop this…pony show she’s got going for him, “Don’t call me that.” While the door happened to already be closed, he folded his arms over the papers on his desk and buried his head within them, wishing for all sounds and voices to cease, just…shut up, for a good hour. By then, he’d hoped she’d at least get him a cup of coffee with that aspirin. And perhaps while that brews, make an attempt to psychoanalyze why he is the way he is.

“No, I will vomit,” he muttered underneath his cavern of arms. Why was he so unwilling, so cruelly avoidant? How does he expect to speak to her in such an ugly fashion after she managed to dig to the very center of his being and burrow gently inside? Was he irritable because of his own self, or because of her finding him out? Would it backfire and hurt her instead? He should’ve called in sick, goddammit.

“…If you have to do something, you can get me the plainest, strongest coffee and a bottle of aspirin. …Thank you.”

‘ My, you’re not one for trying new things are you? That’s probably why you get so sick so easily. Not enough good things going around in your blood stream, sir, ‘ Elizabeth chides softly, attitude changing to that of a mother attempting to get her child to eat vegetables. Her head gives a soft shake at his antic, another sigh escaping past her lips as she decides, for the moment, to give in to what he wants. Though this will probably the last time she obeys so easily when it comes to him hungover. Next time he would try her smoothie, if that would be the last thing she could do before he’d have the chance to fire her.

‘ Fine; I’ll make you some coffee and get some aspirin. But while I’m gone, I’d best suggest versus keeping yourself tilted down, you should probably lay back against your chair and have your head tilted forward. Help keep you awake and refreshed for this lovely beautiful day we’re having. ‘ With that, she shoots the other a quick cheeky grin, with tongue sticking out in a silly fashion-knowing full well Ciel couldn’t reprimand her for her actions when he didn’t see her doing them-and sashays her way out of his office. making sure to close the door softly behind her.

All eyes wondered on the assistant as she’d made her way into the employee’s kitchen, a wave of nervousness washing over her as she, for the first time in her life, attempts to ignore her coworkers. Elizabeth was afraid that they’d figured out just what happened amongst them last night, or worse yet, suspected that she had already begun seducing her boss the day she stepped foot into this office. After all, it would make sense as to why they were whispering amongst one another; or at least that’s what she had been imagining they were doing.

In record speed Elizabeth had made Ciel’s coffee exactly the way he’d like it, soon dashing out of that God forsaken kitchen and taking a quick stop to her office to grab her strongest dosage of aspirin, before finding herself back in the office where sits still looking miserable. Soon handing over his coffee and her bottle of aspirin and taking a step back so he had some space.

...But why though? Why does he hate it? It’s kind of hard to back down from everything he did and said last night. His drawer of excuses is bone dry and his rough, sandpaper exoskeleton washed away with the several glasses of wine, left to be soggy and without abrasive protection. No excuse. Fuck.

So much of this internal monologue happened in the span it took her to get a cup of coffee and pain killers, and it was not enough time to fight with his own self. Damn, she was good at this, and she knows it. At the first whiff of that bittersweet elixir, he lifted his head and quietly received the steaming cup along with a couple pills. Just as asked. Huh. Well, he sipped it and washed them down, and waited for her to get back to work. She did her part so she’ll be out of here in no ti--

Oh.

Oh she didn’t just say that, did she?

As if someone had just insulted his own mother to his face, he carefully set his coffee cup down and leaned back in his chair, offering to her as a response a glare of disbelief. “...Wh-Wha--NO! I would NOT like to discuss what happened last night! Are you aware--”. These walls are paper thin and his voice felt more like a roar that could tear through these dividing borders. “Are you aware,” he forced himself to reply with much less intensity, “that you are NOT a contestant in a publicized dating experiment?! Or are you actually trying to get me fired? Cause every time you bring up something personal in this office, I’m in need of one more day of unemployment. Nothing happened last night. I was drunk. Prince Charming got kicked out of the ball and went home alone and so did you. Fairytale’s over, the end.” 

What she said, wasn’t supposed to be said.

A response like that, so cinematic, with her glistening tears against the monochrome backdrop…wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was supposed to walk away, let her feelings and guilt devour her quicker than the hungry, mindless corpses ever could. But she’s the face of humanity and morality, possibilities and opportunities. The chance that anything could happen, will happen. 

She was in love with him, and he was in love with her. But he couldn’t say it. He refused to say it, because at that very fragment of time in his life, he’s never had three simple words completely destroy him. It wasn’t something that would wash away with a cold shower and a long nap. He’ll wake up over and over again with this reminder, ringing in his ears, screaming at him.

Screaming because he was about to give it all away and leave it behind without looking back.

Ciel choked back every last ounce of emotion she managed to stir up within, and could only find one way to react, and that was with a soft, acknowledging nod and the most painful forced smile he could muster up. All he was capable of after that was to offer her a reassuring squeeze of her hand, gradually seeping the concoction of their blood combined. He carefully stood up and made no hesitation to turn around and begin his new journey down a dirt road that led to nowhere. Does it even matter what lies at the end of that pavement? Oblivion, most likely. He’s exhausted his purposes, which had become lies. Like praying to a god that doesn’t exist, he’s lost all reason. He’s now become one of them; sluggish, empty, thoughtless, dead. And that was the end of his story.

Or so he hoped. Days found themselves becoming months. Paths spiraled and snaked right back to its beginning, and purpose had still left Ciel behind, like shedding his skin, parting with his soul. It trailed behind him like a ghost, like it demanded to be put back, like it was telling him not to abandon it just yet. But last chances are exactly that; once you’ve lost faith more than you can count, you eventually train yourself to expect absolutely nothing positive. So that’s how he continued to live. And he felt guilty. He breathed wasted air, scavenged only the smallest amounts of rations that could’ve saved a child, a family at least. He captured hideouts that could’ve kept someone else alive. Someone else could be here.

She could be here. Elizabeth could be surviving with him. But did she? He dwells on the thought every single day, the moment he’s stirred awake by blinding daybreak and rustles of nature or intruding prey. Did he manage to save her, and is she fighting with that single trace of immunity all the way across the world to a safe haven? Did she meet someone new who would properly lead the way and ensure she would live despite the dangers ahead of them? Or…did he kill her?

Such thoughts never skipped a beat as he was startled awake by curious rustling. If he were to ever have a companion, it would be nature’s shedding of dead leaves in the quiet of Fall. Like his very own security system, he can hear everything–living or dead, passing by, looking for sanctuary or sacrifice. Upon his trek to the end of the earth, he’d managed to capture an outpost, a lookout tower in the middle of the woods that kept him safe in the night from the dead, and kept him alive with eyesight for hunting. 

Having abandoned his weapons aside from his machete, he managed to loot decedents of their own, and had gained an eye as a sharpshooter. Anyone who had clever ideas of reclaiming his outpost met their fate with a bullet to the head. He wasn’t about to give up the one place he wouldn’t mind dying in. He was alone, he was quiet, but he wasn’t at peace. He never will be. Not when everything he feels aches far worse than any injury he’s experienced in this life.

With his coming-to-terms of mortality and the heightened anxiety that followed suit, Ciel sat up from his laid out blanket and snatched his trusty sniper that laid at his side night after night. He couldn’t be seen, if it were alive, to avoid confrontation; he wanted a simple kill, nothing messy. The scope would enhance his sight, in the event that such a scare could’ve been a rabbit, a deer looking for food, just like he was. Nothing in sight. It could be anything. A sound doesn’t always mean danger. It’s life trying to continue, trying to rebuild. Trees are dying to be reborn, animals are hibernating in order to keep going during spring. 

And just as he was continuing an endless path, he thought his mind could be playing tricks on him as he laid his scope on a figure ahead. His mind was screaming at him again, but this time, it was to tell him he was just given a final chance, at everything. That final chance had blonde hair and continued to carry the key to save the world.

That shouldn’t have happened. None of this should have ended the way that it had. There’s no way that this could be fair.

Here she was, pathetic, weak, whimpering like that of a child who was afraid of the dark, pouring out what some could reason was her heart to the only person in her life time she could say this to. She’d been so certain, so damn sure that he felt the same way about her. And even though the world had gone to shit and there wasn’t much hope to even look for, certainly they would be okay to be in love with one another, right?

No; it looks like she’d been wrong. And so, so foolish.

Before her very eyes he’s already giving up on her. Practically slapping her in the face with his meager little nod and weak excuse of a smile. And before Elizabeth could even argue, put up a fight, cry, scream, yell, or do whatever the hell she wanted to do, Ciel’s already walking away. Keeping his back faced towards her as he abandons her, leaving her to wallow in the deepest, darkest depression that has ever consumed her being. And though she wants to say something, say something that will keep him staying with her, she can’t. There’s not one single thing Elizabeth can even get out. She’s speechless. Entirely speechless. And it was all thanks to Ciel.

She loved him. After all this time…she loved him.

                                       ———————————

Months. It’s been months that she’s been on her own. It’s incredible, in all honesty, how she isn’t dead yet. With the amount of times her hideouts had been ransacked by bandits, swiping her clean of food she had managed to find on her adventures back to towns that once used to be occupied, to the shit ton of times she’d been bitten by one of the undead, only to be completely immune thanks to, well…him.

What utter bullshit this whole thing was, how incredibly selfish he was to give her some false sense of security like he had-by slicing his hand to mix his blood with hers, giving her this hope that she would be able to survive with the cure that Ciel held, only to leave her behind as if she were nothing more than a toy that he no longer wished to play with. Her existence felt all the more miserable for it, for at least the fear of turning into one of the undead had been proven time over time again to be a fear of the past, and for being able to live while others couldn’t.

They shouldn’t have been separated like this. Right now, versus them split apart, wondering if either or were dead, they should be out there finding people to save. People trustworthy to save. Helping develop a cure so humanity could be getting back on track and the whole world could be starting over. Hell, it didn’t even matter if he participated in donating blood. She could give it now, now that Ciel had saved her. All he could’ve done was just be there with her. That would’ve been enough for her. He simply could’ve stayed. She would’ve moved forward with the idea that Ciel could not extend those same feelings for her. It would’ve helped her move on, having him here by her side, just so that way she could be rest assured that he was safe.

But, alas, that simply wasn’t how it was meant to be.

And now here she was, several months later, machete in hand, slowly creeping about through the woods in order to find her next meal. It had been convenient, seeing the animals slowly begin to reemerge from the earth and begin to multiply. It had to be somewhat of a sign, to show that maybe, just maybe, the hard times could be over soon. After all, it’s been a few days since she’d come across one of the undead. Maybe they’ve all been put to rest.

In the corner of her eyes, Elizabeth could’ve sworn she’d seen what looked to be like someone’s hide out, but she dismissed the idea to go and investigate. After all, she wasn’t about ready to go and look for trouble, nor did she want trouble to come and find her.

Though it doesn’t help that, as she continues her journey-unknowingly stepping right into the sight of Ciel’s snipers’ scope- that she feels watchful eyes on her. The feeling becomes too overwhelming at this point, which results in her abandoning her idea of ignoring whoever could be watching her right now, and instead gets her to approaching just a tad bit closer. Machete raised high as she tries to see exactly where the sensation was strongest.

Ciel couldn’t re-associate with the present moment. His mind strangled him, his breath caught in his throat as he continued to survey her through his scope. He could hear her, that same unforgiving sass she’d always had no matter the situation. This couldn’t be his imagination. Sight and hearing aside, he had to touch her, feel that she was of this conscious, and that she wouldn’t slip away like fog rolling past the trees. 

He carefully set his rifle down on the wooden platform, hesitating while he conjured up proper steps to both avoid losing control of his emotions and losing a limb or two. She’d been carrying around his machete this whole time, it seems; there’s no knowing what kind of damage she’s done with it until he sees it for himself. He stood back on his feet, unveiling himself from the barriers that disguised him from above, giving her a chance to identify who the ‘asshole’ was.

“Take ‘em. I’m sick of squirrels.” Ciel unrolled the woven ladder crafted by rope to secure his safety from above and quickly climbed down to the forest floor below. Though his hands shook and his heart pounded harder than it had in a long time, he knew how this world changed her, took the light from her eyes, and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if she attacked him firsthand. A careful, slow approach towards her was best, both hands raised to prove he wasn’t armed. At least not where she can see.

“…No?”, he scoffed.

And then it hit him, louder than the lights, harder than the bass drum in his temples. Last nights festivities. The party. Her apartment. …THEM. His expression softened, the harshness in his features sinking into his chest where his heart skipped a beat. What does he say, what DOES he say?! He accidentally let her in and she knows too much!

But then his nervous response assured her that he did, in fact, remember exactly what happened last night. Which causes a small sigh of relief to escape her lips, as she guides herself to the front of his desk. Settling the papers down while glancing the other up and down. A small frown starting as Elizabeth realized that he’s having probably the worst hang over in his entire life.

“Don’t--” He interrupted her, his hand motioning for her to stop this...pony show she’s got going for him, “Don’t call me that.” While the door happened to already be closed, he folded his arms over the papers on his desk and buried his head within them, wishing for all sounds and voices to cease, just...shut up, for a good hour. By then, he’d hoped she’d at least get him a cup of coffee with that aspirin. And perhaps while that brews, make an attempt to psychoanalyze why he is the way he is.

“No, I will vomit,” he muttered underneath his cavern of arms. Why was he so unwilling, so cruelly avoidant? How does he expect to speak to her in such an ugly fashion after she managed to dig to the very center of his being and burrow gently inside? Was he irritable because of his own self, or because of her finding him out? Would it backfire and hurt her instead? He should’ve called in sick, goddammit.

“...No?”, he scoffed.

And then it hit him, louder than the lights, harder than the bass drum in his temples. Last nights festivities. The party. Her apartment. ...THEM. His expression softened, the harshness in his features sinking into his chest where his heart skipped a beat. What does he say, what DOES he say?! He accidentally let her in and she knows too much!

What did she mean by ‘none of that matters’? Of course it all did. How ridiculous of a record to have in your personal record that you threw yourself off the stepping stone of a lifetime because you kissed your boss at midnight on New Years? Exactly. Just because it’s the moment of a new year doesn’t mean it has to end on a sour note.

But none of that settled into the atmosphere they had created just now. For one, Elizabeth did not deny his advance. In fact, she persisted. An accident suddenly has become an intention, a desire of sorts. And while he claimed to have sobered up, he’s finding himself in a much different haze of intoxication. He’s finding it hard to pull away from her this time around, as she links her arms around his neck. She couldn’t be any closer. And he couldn’t be any more confused. Was she just doing this for social points, so she could say she wasn’t alone on New Years Eve? And was he just letting it happen because…he preferred it over having nothing happen at all? For the first year in his whole life, this is the first time the cycle had been broken. And for some sort of fate-determining decision, it had to be her.

Ciel finds himself entirely lost in her kiss, his heart pounding as waves of emotion come crashing in like a tide, filling the crevices of him that were otherwise dark and empty. Hesitant with every single move either of them made, he hovered his hand in her general vicinity before carefully resting it on her lap. He couldn’t tell what kinds of signals he may have been sending and the one she was broadcasting wasn’t coming in clear either. Well, as they say, ignorance is bliss, but logic and reasoning have their share in every recipe as well.

His lips parted from hers, allowing just enough space to breathe, just enough that he would feel awkward looking into her eyes if he tried. He can taste whatever she painted her lips with that evening, and he could smell so much better what she used for perfume, for her hair, whatever it was that he would sometimes get a hint of when she would walk by in the office. It settles in his memory now as her marking. “Uh…”, he speaks in an almost raspy whisper, as if he couldn’t be silent enough that all of his colleagues, whether minutes or miles away, weren’t going to hear him, “…What kind of upside down universe did we just fall into…?”

How incredible was it, that the one boy in the entire world that Elizabeth had never anticipated she’d ever kiss in the first place-since she’s always believed he held a high hatred for her-would be her first New Year’s Kiss. Or, better yet, be the first kiss where something clicked. A kiss that, as it lingered and as feelings were beginning to unite, would make her feel so differently than she’s ever felt before in her entire life. 

To think like that was both nice and slightly alarming. While yes, Elizabeth was already breaking one of the biggest rules in business by being this intimate with the man she was supposed to listen to on a daily business, she finds that she doesn’t even care at all. An unusual aspect for a girl that grew up obeying rules since the day she was born. And an even more worrisome fact was that, even with the plenty of boyfriend’s she’s had and all the boys she’s kissed, Elizabeth has never felt like this with any of them. Of course, it could just be the adrenaline rush of doing something taboo. But there was something, just a small doubt lingering inside of her being that’s thinking that these feelings were something more.

When Ciel finally decides to part from her, the blonde finds her forehead resting softly against his. Emerald orbs staring at him softly while hands go and grasp his face delicately. Her thumbs rubbing soft circles against his cheeks as she spoke in a soft whisper. ‘ I’m not entirely sure, if I’ll be honest, ‘ Elizabeth starts off slowly, as frame leans back in order to give him some more space. Hands leaving his face and instead grasps his hand that was so delicately resting a top her lap, giving it a soft squeeze.

Then again, what if all of his anxious accusations were proven to be false? What if her wirings were tangled, misfired and sent the signal that he was the perfect bachelor for her needs? That could make up for his own ‘remember when...’ joke. Remember when Elizabeth Midford thought she was falling for Ciel Phantomhive, that most uninviting, uninteresting, unmotivated individual in the entire company? Ha, sure sounded like one hell of an ice breaker to him.

Ciel had to pause his emotionally violent thoughts and ask himself for a moment of silence while he sorted this all out before him. “...You’re not gonna want to do this...”, he replied in a tone just above a whisper, sprinkled with a hint of disappointment. She didn’t want to end up with someone complicated like himself. She was blinded by the moment, and the fact that he’d been drinking, and her own fear of being alone on a night for those who are in love and crave a future. Or...was he speaking to himself? He’s not going to want this because he’s afraid of what the outcome may be. It could end in a train wreck, a realization for him that he’s not this sort of material she’s drawing him out to be. He didn’t think it’d be something he’d have to feel, but he could be heart-broken.

He carefully slipped his hand from underneath hers and pulled away in attempts to end this before a mistake would be made. For anyone else, it might’ve been the start to a beautiful beginning, a reason to wake up in the morning and smile. But for him, it was the most sobering experience that made all of those glasses of wine disappear off his record. After the euphoria, he was sitting on rock bottom, and he felt he was suddenly drowning. “I have to go.” His flat was the finish line, but obstacles between wouldn’t be allowing himself to be claimed a winner. He climbed off the couch, having forgotten his shoes beside him, his jacket somewhere unbeknownst to him, and his cell phone most certainly not in his pocket. He was lucky enough to have rushed out of her place with his keys or he’d be sleeping in the hall.

She was given so many chances–to scream right back at him, tear him down like a poorly standing blockade. She could have slipped right inside him and tore his insides to shreds. But she didn’t. Instead of breaking him, she broke herself. Except it wasn’t her. It was him. He broke her into so many pieces, he didn’t think he could pick up every single sliver of her. And that’s where things get complicated.

He’s seen many shades of this girl; more of the harsher hues than the bright. But this one was an absolute epitome of darkness. He thought she’d broken when he put her brother down, but this…this was something else. This was a young girl, scared to death, with no one left in the world, nobody to trust, finally admitting that she’s not as tough as she’s always claimed to be. She has every right to have pretended. He did, too. Everyone has to, as much as the world feels like make believe, it’s frighteningly real and pretending that it isn’t only gets you so far. This isn’t something you’re taught in school, by your elders, tips you pick up on a website or a book. All you know is two things; survive or die. 

Ciel stands frozen on the dirt path leading out of the camp and back into the raw wilderness, and all he can think about is how she’s no longer able to do the first of those two things. It wouldn’t be long until autumn creeps around and invites the chill of winter visiting immediately after. She’s lost her ambition, her courage, her confidence; when you’re without strengths like those, you have no chance of fighting for yourself. She’ll give up and let this hell devour her. She’ll be one of them. And after everything they’ve been through, after everything that challenged them to keep going, he can’t find it in him to let her die out here. It’s one of the hardest tasks to face; to trust a fellow human being when you know very well that everyone is fighting for themselves and themselves only. But such a simple concept becomes rocket science when you let that word slip into your thoughts. That one word, the word he said has no place in a war zone. He’ll never say it because he almost doesn’t believe in it anymore.

But then there she came. A girl made of porcelain, who he wouldn’t doubt was in perfect condition before all this, is now unrepairable. And that damn word is filling in his own cracks and shaping his human form. He hates it because it could get him killed in an instant. And of course, that word always comes with another one; risk.

He took one more glance around the atmosphere; dark and desolate, before he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket and made a return to her vicinity. He can’t imagine the soldiers down the way had given up that fast; clearly there was no doubt due to her betrayal, as she claims, that they would scramble her just the same as he, if not worse. He’s not ready to choose his words just yet before he studies this version of her first. He can’t give her a choice to come with him or not; he wouldn’t rest without knowing if she made it out of this or simply laid down and gave up. Ciel leaned down and carefully pulled her arms from around her knees and grabbed a secure hold of her hands, in the event that she may refuse him. She has every right to. They’re equals now. 

All he could do was gaze over her painful expression, his throat tightening at the thought of never having a real life in a real world ever again. He wanted to know what she did with herself on the weekends, what her favorite movie was, her preference of season, if she ever broke any bones, failed a test, or ever laughed so hard she cried. He wanted to know if she was more delicate without her scars and her meter of hope that was now so empty, the needle went missing.

He wants her to live. He wants to give her a chance to tell the story. He wants to see this world rebuilt when…if this is ever all over with. If he doesn’t make it, he doesn’t mind, as long as she could say he led her to the answers this world needed to solve itself. And that’s why he decided upon something incredibly insane. That word…that betraying term…love…is all about risks, right?

Inspecting the area around the abandoned truck they had hidden behind, he removed his machete from his belt and used the handle to crack and shatter the drivers side window. With a piece of that glass, he turned her hand in his over to view her shaking palm. He brought his eyes back to hers, searching for any sort of response with what he was about to do. “…You deserve to live more than anyone else.” With the very edge of the glass, he turned his own palm over and made a gash down the middle, deep enough for plentiful blood to flow freely. He then gave her one to match, long yet shallow, and clasped their hands together, feeling the warmth of his blood pooling into hers.

“If there’s anyone I’m going to save, it’s going to be you.”

What a horrible way this was to feel. To give up on the entirety of your life and wanting nothing more than the sweet release of death. Just to think, once upon a time, Elizabeth wanted nothing more to live a long and beautiful life. Become a successful fashion designer and build her own fashion empire that would include every type of person. Become a wife to a handsome man and bear him some beautiful children. And to grow old with the one person that she was meant to be with for the rest of her life.

Those were nothing more than childish thoughts; childish dreams that were never meant to be. Elizabeth had been so naive then, unaware of the potential dangers of the world. Of the possibility that the world would turn into shit and that everyone she’s ever come to care about would die right in front of her eyes. Resulting in her traversing the despair that the Earth has become, and forcing her to grow up quicker than her innocence was mentally capable of, despite how silly she was to not have grown up quicker beforehand.

To imagine, for just a while, she fooled herself into thinking that she had grown up, that she was capable of taking care of herself and keeping herself alive. It was the truth for her at least physically, but mentally…there was no denying she was lying about the mental part of herself. And Ciel was seeing that now, with her breaking down in front of him, as if she were fine china that had been dropped and broke into a million pieces.

In the end, Elizabeth was a mess. And she’s not sure if there’s anything that could be done to help her sorry excuse of person.

Heart continues to beat fast, as if beating at a million miles a minute, breath trying to catch up. She can’t get herself to look up as he begins to walk away, knowing he’s got every reason to. Elizabeth has been trouble for him since the very beginning, a huge risk of the end of his life. Ciel should walk away and leave her here. After all, she knows that this is what she deserves. She deserves to die at the hands of either the infected or those that hunted her for her betrayal. It’s only fair, after all.

When Ciel decides to return to her side, Elizabeth isn’t capable of reacting too much. She’s somewhat out of her mind at this point, with thoughts swirling of how she really should just end it even though he was the only reason why she wanted to continue living in the first place. Despite everything that’s happened, and words that had been exchanged and actions that could not be so easily forgiven, Ciel was the only one she lived for anymore; the only one she, as reckless as it sounded, loved.

His words and actions won’t register at first, gaze looking away from him when he tries to catch her attention to just staring at the abandoned car behind him. It wasn’t until she’d felt something warm and wet in her hands is when she snapped out of her temporary delusions.

‘ W-what are you doing? ‘ Elizabeth whispers at first, tearful eyes shifting to gaze at him in confusion. Though, when the familiar scent of blood fills her nose, she tips her head down slowly and catches sight of him mixing his blood with hers. And for a minute, she doesn’t understand what he’s up to. Though, soon reality kicks in, and she’s straightening herself up. Look of bewilderment crossing her tired features as she looked at him once more, as his last statement rings through her ears. It makes sense now. It all does. He cares. He love-

‘ Ciel…! ‘ The blonde whispers softly, new set of tears streaming on her features as the last of her vulnerability is revealed to him. What she’s about to say is dumb, especially in a world as hopeless as they lived in now. But…

A response like that, so cinematic, with her glistening tears against the monochrome backdrop...wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was supposed to walk away, let her feelings and guilt devour her quicker than the hungry, mindless corpses ever could. But she’s the face of humanity and morality, possibilities and opportunities. The chance that anything could happen, will happen. 

She was in love with him, and he was in love with her. But he couldn’t say it. He refused to say it, because at that very fragment of time in his life, he’s never had three simple words completely destroy him. It wasn’t something that would wash away with a cold shower and a long nap. He’ll wake up over and over again with this reminder, ringing in his ears, screaming at him.

Screaming because he was about to give it all away and leave it behind without looking back.

Ciel choked back every last ounce of emotion she managed to stir up within, and could only find one way to react, and that was with a soft, acknowledging nod and the most painful forced smile he could muster up. All he was capable of after that was to offer her a reassuring squeeze of her hand, gradually seeping the concoction of their blood combined. He carefully stood up and made no hesitation to turn around and begin his new journey down a dirt road that led to nowhere. Does it even matter what lies at the end of that pavement? Oblivion, most likely. He’s exhausted his purposes, which had become lies. Like praying to a god that doesn’t exist, he’s lost all reason. He’s now become one of them; sluggish, empty, thoughtless, dead. And that was the end of his story.

Or so he hoped. Days found themselves becoming months. Paths spiraled and snaked right back to its beginning, and purpose had still left Ciel behind, like shedding his skin, parting with his soul. It trailed behind him like a ghost, like it demanded to be put back, like it was telling him not to abandon it just yet. But last chances are exactly that; once you’ve lost faith more than you can count, you eventually train yourself to expect absolutely nothing positive. So that’s how he continued to live. And he felt guilty. He breathed wasted air, scavenged only the smallest amounts of rations that could’ve saved a child, a family at least. He captured hideouts that could’ve kept someone else alive. Someone else could be here.

She could be here. Elizabeth could be surviving with him. But did she? He dwells on the thought every single day, the moment he’s stirred awake by blinding daybreak and rustles of nature or intruding prey. Did he manage to save her, and is she fighting with that single trace of immunity all the way across the world to a safe haven? Did she meet someone new who would properly lead the way and ensure she would live despite the dangers ahead of them? Or...did he kill her?

Such thoughts never skipped a beat as he was startled awake by curious rustling. If he were to ever have a companion, it would be nature’s shedding of dead leaves in the quiet of Fall. Like his very own security system, he can hear everything--living or dead, passing by, looking for sanctuary or sacrifice. Upon his trek to the end of the earth, he’d managed to capture an outpost, a lookout tower in the middle of the woods that kept him safe in the night from the dead, and kept him alive with eyesight for hunting. 

Having abandoned his weapons aside from his machete, he managed to loot decedents of their own, and had gained an eye as a sharpshooter. Anyone who had clever ideas of reclaiming his outpost met their fate with a bullet to the head. He wasn’t about to give up the one place he wouldn’t mind dying in. He was alone, he was quiet, but he wasn’t at peace. He never will be. Not when everything he feels aches far worse than any injury he’s experienced in this life.

With his coming-to-terms of mortality and the heightened anxiety that followed suit, Ciel sat up from his laid out blanket and snatched his trusty sniper that laid at his side night after night. He couldn’t be seen, if it were alive, to avoid confrontation; he wanted a simple kill, nothing messy. The scope would enhance his sight, in the event that such a scare could’ve been a rabbit, a deer looking for food, just like he was. Nothing in sight. It could be anything. A sound doesn’t always mean danger. It’s life trying to continue, trying to rebuild. Trees are dying to be reborn, animals are hibernating in order to keep going during spring. 

The approach he was taking with this was not in his favor. He felt with the way she had to introduce herself to him, that she really wouldn’t be calling it quits. She was the type who was always looking for someone to talk to; she was likable, and wanted to share her warmth with the world like the sun on a gloomy day. So now that she’s already tagging along with him places, he has to continue to spew lies in order to hide the awkwardness that was his other-worldly experience with her. He was always true to her, so it all made him a different kind of ill no doctor on this planet could diagnose.

“I-I mean…I’ve…dated before…”, he says foolishly. How can he fabricate this when he knows she’s going to want evidence? There’s nothing to prove they were in love beside the aching feeling in his chest and the seasickness in his gut. “Something happened and…she was there one minute, and gone the next.” If that isn’t the blandest way to put things. He had to quickly get off this trail before he would push further on this ‘ex-girlfriend’ of his. Closing the door behind it and hearing it lock, he adjusted his bag on his shoulder and attempted to be as casual with this as all possible. He actually was not aware of any cafes or shops in the university area, so this would be a discovery for the both of them; and potentially a new beginning.

“But anyway…”. And here he was, bombarded in a fog of silence, scrambling through his mental filing cabinet in search of the perfect topic that wouldn’t sound suspicious by any means. What does he not know about her? What can he test her on in order to further qualify the truth of his dreams? “You…got any siblings?” Of all things he’d forgotten, he couldn’t forget Edward. He’ll never know anyone like him. …Does he also exist in this universe? If not, the level of complication has multiplied tenfold. “I’m an only child so, ‘always interesting to hear the differences.”

Well his answer wasn’t exactly what she expected. As terrible as it sounds, Elizabeth had just come to that quick assumption that Ciel in this reality of theirs had been just as quiet and shy around females like he was when she’d known him in her dreams. And leading up to the question, the blonde had safely assumed that he wouldn’t have even commented on having a dating life. So of course, naturally, when he’d gone into practical full detail about this girlfriend he’d had, her heart sank just a tad.

It was dumb, really, to be upset-and if Elizabeth could admit to it, maybe even the slightest bit jealous-over the fact that she wasn’t his ‘first’ girlfriend. Not that that should have mattered anyways, considering in this reality here they never dated in the first place. God, they were just getting to know each other after all. To care about something that probably meant nothing to him now…it was a laughable case. But Elizabeth did care, and she was so concentrated on this stupid little thing that when Ciel’s question to her hit her ears, she had to take a few moments to concentrate back on the situation at hand. Flustered grin starting up on her features as she nodded.

Ciel begins to make a mental checklist on the clues that match the facts. Her major is the same. She looks the same, sounds the same. She has a brother. A presumably very, very jealous, defensive brother. And by the statement she makes that he’s her best friend, he can go ahead and check that off as well. Does he dare get excited with where this is going? Or does he play god and reshape the history they apparently, unknowingly have together?

Having exited the dorms, he leisurely slips his hands into his pants pockets and begins the very eerie journey with Elizabeth, a slow stride in order to both be wary of his previous footprint, but to also take this time to study her extra closely. In response to her inquiry on his family, he offers a simple shrug as he follows his pace along the sidewalk leading off campus and into the downtown vicinity. “’Not much to really say about them, to be honest. I’m here for my father; his succession is mine, I suppose. So I have to keep the family business going. ‘Least I have a job in place after graduation, right?” Another shrug is offered in place of his doubts. At this rate, he hasn’t a clue what the future brings him if he’s able to manipulate what he already knows. And if that were to be true, he at least knows, if this goes as planned, she’ll be stable and secure.

“My mother is just...a reminder that there’s a silver lining behind every storm cloud. She just...does the ‘mom’ job well.” A slight smile peaks through his generally monotone expression. It’s foreign to be explaining his life basics to her all over again. Yet, while so much of her is still foggy to him, perhaps she also has that amnesia. She’s discovering him all over again, and he her. It’s exciting, really, to have the chance to fall in love like that all over again. What a love that was...

Lizzy: I grew up with an older brother.

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