Faces sullen, the black procession with cheeks stained with tears marched through ashen church doors. Most were sad of his passing, a vast majority thought nothing of it and merely came to express their deepest condolences to the young lord's fiance, Elizabeth.
She wasn't smiling.
Everything went bleak, endless, and dark for the young lady. For the first time, she had worn black. Her blonde tresses were decorated with raven lace, as were her delicate and lady-like hands.
A young woman never showed her crying face, but Elizabeth could hardly restrain her broken sobs as she placed a single, red rose beside her love's lifeless and doll-like body. His snowy eyelids where shut, his right eye free from his eye-patch - Ciel Phantomhive, age thirteen.
The tall, lanky butler to the deceased boy held his hand to his chest and swept low into a bow before the young master's casket. He muttered something, though low enough so the sleeping prince's dead ears could hear him.
A second young woman, [h/c] hair matted and hung in her eyes; they were puffy and red. She slowly made her way up the long carpet of deep, royal purple to the blackened oak coffin that sat alone on a raised, decorated platform. She never imagined herself at his funeral, at her beloved Ciel's goodbye party.
Her hands held a long, pale lily. It's petals were soft, white, and curved with speckles of pink and yellow. She was the only one that knew Ciel's favorite flowers were lilies.
This woman, this girl of fourteen, was the only person the young lord truly loved.
"Sleep well, dark prince."
the puffy-eyed, [h/c] haired young girl whispered passed painted pale lips, gentle fingers trailed down Ciel's cheek and brushed dark hair from his eyes. What she would give to see those beautiful, blue eyes again.
A hand befell her shoulder.
"Lady [Name], the young lord requests that you stay after the service."
the Phantomhive butler whispered quickly into her ear, and then guided her back to her seat among the grieving peoples in the pews. [Name] held the lily to her chest; she wasn't able to give him the flower.
At least, not yet.
Everyone, eventually, had shuffled out of the church once the bishop gave his blessing to the boy, to help him ascend to Heaven. The Phantomhive servants gave her their grievances, and left to begin packing their belongings in search of their new jobs - except Sebastian.
The butler was standing beside the casket, looking into it with a blank expression, perhaps even the slightest bit angry with the boy that lay in eternal slumber inside.
"You know that he is not actually deceased, do you, Lady [Name]?"
Sebastian asked her, voice remaining low. From her spot in the pews, she rose and made her way to the front of the church once more, hands clutching the lily.
"Yes, I know."
"He shall wake soon, and he wants you to be the first person he sees once he does."
And he had gone, out the doors as if he were a bolt of black lightning.
As soon as he did so, there was a soft sound from Ciel's resting place; almost a light sigh and a groan. The movement of fabric was heard and [Name] peered over the edge of the casket, Ciel's chest was not moving up and down like he was breathing, but his lips were parted.
Had he awoken?
Dark lashes fluttering, a pair of vibrant, red eyes stared at her face, at her wide and surprised eyes.
A small sound passed his lips as the turned up at the corners into a grim, yet gentle smile. [Name] was acting as if she had seen a ghost, her body stiff and face drained of color. She never looked any more beautiful, he thought. A pale hand reached to cup her cheek and pulled her closer.
"I have been wanting to see you,"
And he kissed her.
He had been longing to see her through his new eyes.
He had been waiting to make her his.