lottie–la-bouff:

The earl’s cobalt-blue eyes seemed to suddenly be in another place, and Lottie vaguely wondered what he must of been thinking about. Whatever it was, it seemed to be something heavy and melancholy. She could see the emotion shining in the way he looked away from her, despite it being barely there. Most of the time, his expression was stoic, bordering on emotionless.

The child confused her, simply because that was what he was— A child. And yet, he was sitting behind the desk that belong to someone with authority, taking on all of the responsibilities and burdens that belonged to an adult. This boy, he couldn’t be older than twelve, and she could plainly see envelopes on his desk that were postmarked from the stately home of the Queen of England herself.

And he did everything without cracking a smile. Not even one.

Lottie tried to contemplate a reason for this in the long, perilous silence that stretched before them. She’d noticed he wore a black patch over his right eye— Perhaps his joyless mannerisms had something to do with a past injury? But, why would that cause such a drastic change in someone so young? His parents must—

Thoughts screeching to a halt, her eyes widened a little. His parents. He was the head of his household, and that meant his parents were dead.

A wave of sadness and powerful sympathy washed through her, and she had the strong, sudden urge to squeeze his little body as hard as she could. Lottie’s own mother had passed when she was only a toddler, and it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to endure in her life.

Ciel’s voice pulled her relentlessly from her thoughts, and she frowned slightly, and she quickly moved to sit in the chair opposite his as soon as he offered. She’d noticed him push it away slightly, at first, and she could(sort of) understand him wanting his space. The strong want to hug him like she thought a child should be hugged was still there, even though she knew he most likely wouldn’t like that very much at all. Restraining herself with as much effort as she could manage, she decided to attempt to soften the atmosphere by making a bit of conversation. Her gaze flickered over to the various papers sprawled across the wooden surface of the table. “So… It, um— Looks like y’ got a lot ta do…”

“Aheh, heh~…!”

The bluenette watched as the woman took her seat, a brow lifting at her obvious discomfort. After she pointed out all the work he had to do, he heaved a sigh and nodded. Ciel knew that he’d never finish this all in one session, and he didn’t plan to originally. The girl just “wandered” in at the right time, because if he was working or in one of his lessons, the servants would have probably escorted her out before he even got to see her. Then, later, he would be told by Sebastian or Tanaka and shrug it off since until now they weren’t even acquaintances.

Then he thought back to her expression. Lottie was a happy soul - he could tell that off the bat. He doubted she didn’t use her father’s money to her advantage, and Ciel understood that well enough. Though all the money is technically his now, he has made enough to pamper ten people, let alone just himself. Though with all the time he spends for the Queen or day after day with lessons, meetings, paperwork, and managing all his factories as well as his own manor, he rarely had time to even look in a mirror. If something was out of place, Sebastian would fix it. If there was trouble outside, the other servants would handle it. Besides all the work he had to do alone, it didn’t cut out the work everyone else in the household had to do. It was truly a tough job to live at the Phantomhive manor, but never once did Ciel get a complaint, so he always thought it was fine.

Ah - he knew what was unsettling.

The edges of his mouth tilted up into a small smile. “Most of the work so far is quite durable,” he added. “Does the tea satisfy you?” he asked her, keeping the small grin placed on his pale features. It wasn’t hard to smile, it was hard to actually smile. The earl couldn’t place the last time that he was truly happy. Maybe when he was too young to comprehend the cruelty of the world, but other than that, any happiness is blank. An old saying goes, “Happiness is not an ideal of reason, but of imagination.” In Ciel’s context, it’s very true. He could put all his reasons to be happy on a table. Count them up, and the number is high. However, all the sorrow hit him and drilled into his mind and body. He could stare at those reasons all he wants, but they wouldn’t make him smile. No - instead, he’d have to pretend.  For whomever it may be. A stranger, a friend, or even his servants. Though they know all too well of the truth to be fooled by his imaginary smile. Lottie did not know of the truth, so there was no point in showing her.

“Are you staying in London?” he asked after a few more sips of tea. His cup was empty now, but he didn’t mind. The question was a simple, small-talk conversation starter, but he was very curious. She told him that she had no idea how or why she was here. He could say drugs effected her, but he’s seen someone on drugs and she certainly wasn’t like that man at all.