lottie–la-bouff:

Goodness. Perhaps the Earl of Phantomhive was right— Maybe his age really shouldn’t have anything to do with his elite occupation. He acted like a little adult, his face and words stern and serene. In many ways, he behaved more maturely than she often did. But, even so, she vaguely wondered if he ever even got the chance to just be a kid— To run, play, make friends, have crushes. His situation could very well be a double-edged sword. “I-I jus’— I m-mean…” Lottie hesitated, then smiled sheepishly. “I-I’m sorry… Y’ jus’ kinda yanked th’ rug out from unda me… Heh…”

His question caused her to let out a soft, bothered sigh. No, she definitely didn’t come to speak to Ciel about business negotiations— But she very well may have already ruined any chances of her father doing so in the future. “Ehm— No, I’m ‘fraid I hain’t.” Lottie was very rarely the one to speak to potential business partners for her father— Unless, of course, those partners had young, good-looking sons— but there was no way for Ciel to know that. “I don’ usually git involved ‘n any a that. Daddy takes care a ev’rythang, so…”

She turned when she heard the door click open; a tall, decidedly-attractive man with dark hair pushing a cart into the room. A butler, she thought, her eyes scanning his suit as he parked the cart near to her and Ciel, placing the platter of the very yummy-looking cake on the desk. The hot tea steamed in the cups as he served it, and she pursed her lips a bit. She much rather preferred her tea cold, in a jar or a glass, with a ton of sugar in it.

Despite her slight fear that she wouldn’t like the tea, she gently took her cup, anyway, raising it to her lips to sip it. Surprisingly, she found it tolerable, a soft, thoughtful noise escaping from the back of her throat as she swallowed. “Hm…”

“Very well,” he responded dully. She didn’t look like a business woman, nor did she act like one. Though, he didn’t mind it. He wonders how he would have acted in his older years if his parents were still around to give him everything and anything, all while keeping up the service of the Queen, and all their other chores that Ciel now had to deal with. His fiance - Lizzie - always told him that he was so happy then, and it was all smiles at the Phantomhive’s. Ciel supposed that the fire burned down other things along with their home. Spirit, love, happiness… all those left on that day too. 

Papers were scattered all along his desk, opened letters from the Queen telling him what he had to deal with that was “bothering” her. Murder, murder, and more bloodshed. It’s been a pattern as of late, but it didn’t matter. Whatever the Queen wanted, he would do. Even if it caused him his death - though it was very unlikely. Sebastian - his butler and guard - would never let him die.

That would mean he’d lose his dinner.

Other papers were mostly invitations or the workings of his company. Things to pay for, how much money they made, something that he needed to approve or deny - paperwork. Ciel took a quick sip of his tea then attempted to pile up all the papers.  The pile he made was messy, but there was more room on the table than before. He pushed them all in the corner of the desk, and sighed. So much work. 

Now his attention was back to the maiden, who he realized had been standing all this time. A frown cracked at the corners of his lips, erasing his constantly-neutral expression. How rude of him to forget such a thing.

“You may sit,” he said, then motioned to a chair next to his desk. The last person that was in here besides him was his fiance, and for some reason she just loved being close to him - despite Ciel’s comfort in personal space. Before she did, he pushed the chair away a bit. He assumed that she needed her space too, but then again, she did remind him of Lizzie.