The Secret Bond

Nobody knew what had them bound, Nobody knew that in the quiet O’princely chamber, on the bed They burned together like in fire.

I’ve never thought that I would crave a human. He was special, of course. But my reaction should have never been like this. He was just a human, no more than a meal. Yet I grew to desire him, and soon my feelings were reciprocated. It could not be otherwise, for when I get down to business, everything goes like clockwork. I’ve always known that it was never meant to be, that it was wrong. We must have never. We had a contract. He was only a human. I am a demon. I must have not. But truth be told, none of us cared. It started vaguely. First was our mutual irritation. Then the attempts (oft-times futile) to understand each other. I called him names inside my head, he slapped me in the face. Sometimes I would regret responding to his call. He scolded me and said that I was heinous. I hated him like any other human. He feared me but tried to hide the fact behind a mask of disregard and master’s wrath. It made sense, for I would be his death one day. But he never gave up, never allowed himself to doubt, and it excited me. I was curious about him. Then came the irreparable. I got too deep into his mind; I studied his delightful soul too closely. I was dragged in there, never to be released again, taken prisoner, made a slave of more than just our contract. And I was too foolish to see it before it was too late; before I was already at the bottom. Do you think he didn’t take advantage of it? If so, then you know nothing of his cunning. That day, he was scolding me as was his usual. He did that rather often. I know that he wanted to show me that, despite his human nature, he was capable of turning my life, that of a powerful demon, into hell. My little master wanted to defeat me. He always proved me a servant of his. Our marks were not enough for him, he wanted something else to bond me with. That time he was also trying to win over me, at least with words. The sight of him blushing with anger amused me… And his cheeks, painted deep crimson, distracted me from his harsh words. Rage suited him. I admired him the times he wished to let his anger out; he seemed to notice it, which only angered his lordship even further. So, he was scolding me, approaching me ever nearer. And then his small palm touched my cheek. I must admit it hurt. And I’m still haunted by the question — why did I catch his hand that time? For a moment, I could see fear in his eyes. Then pure embarrassment — his hand was almost on my chest. Oh, I never knew that one could redden more than did my master. “No need for beating me, my lord,” I told him. He licked his lips nervously. And then things went to my familiar hell. For I realised he was beautiful. No high-flown words intended. He was just beautiful and no more needed to be said about him. When I released him, sweaty, dishevelled and furious, his lips beaten and swollen from a long kiss, he shouted, “Get out!!!” So I did. What else was there for me to do? He had been avoiding me since then. That night he went to bed without taking a bath and dinner. He didn’t want to see me. I knew it was a lie. His silence, his quiet fury, his order for me to keep away from him. He wanted me. Not in that specific sense of the word, though in that too, he simply wanted me to be around, to stay with him until he fell asleep, just like I used to do before I let myself take liberties with him. He grew gloomy with each passing day, and in his eyes, I could see anguish and a glint of desperate desire. I know he was scared of himself; of his feelings he was suddenly aware of. And once again he was desperately, disgustingly scared of me. I am a demon, which means it is my custom to take what’s owed to me no matter what, and a human’s opinion means little to me, even if this human is my master. He courted Lizzie ostentatiously. He tried to show that he was happy with the mere fact that she was his fiancée. For me it was ridiculous. He began to willingly accept her stupid offers to visit many, just as stupid places. He pretended to be interested but did so with an expression of the one being led to the gallows. He endured his little miss’s chatting and her persistent longing to be close. But even when his attention seemed to be all on her, I saw very well that his eyes were searching for me. I was the only servant not to be delighted at the sight of them together. Mey-Rin bled from her nose, admiring the prettiness of the young couple, Finny was insistent to give the Earl the wonderful bouquets of his own composition as a gift for Lizzy when she would come next time, Bard boasted of cooking magnificent dinner for their future wedding. I might even envy their cheerful foolishness, but I am a demon, after all. They could admire, they could love and rejoice, all I could do was mock. You see, everything inside me is covered with ashes. Mine was not pure and innocent love. No, my feeling was dark passion based on possessive instincts. I am incapable of selfless service. All those human conceptions of something gentle and humble were alien to me. The mortals could not understand me, and I could not understand them. You see, I wanted to take him whole, never to share his soul and body with this wretched world. The dirt of it spoiled them, they were too precious to exist in its frenzy; the thought of him being a part of this world made me feel a truly diabolical fury. He must not belong to it; he must belong to me. I am incapable of love if judged by human standards. I am the worst of egoists, a terribly jealous and violent beast that knows no compromises, even when obsessed with passion. Do you believe that the position “he will be mine or he will die” is worthy of this love of yours? Well, this is the only “love” I know. I was drawn to him, and he was drawn to me. I wanted to own him, and he wanted to belong to me. I was a conqueror, cunning and merciless, he was a besieged fortress. And I took that fortress, breaking through the walls and capturing my prey. He looked so natural in my arms. I shall never let go of him. He was different with me. He was obedient. He surrendered to me and never once regretted it. The proud Earl of Phantomhive became a toy of his own butler, how ironic. I triumphed. This joy was as dark as everything about me, even if classified as “good”. But I was happy in my own way, having earned his confession and trust. A happy demon… How ridiculous! He called on me one stormy night. I knew that he was scared of storms. They were reminders of the past and phantoms of the future. He was a child, after all. My master put his trust in me, he let me see his helplessness and fear, and I was pleased to see his weakness. I gloated as I looked into his widened pupils that held the reflection of lightning; as I watched his pale face and a barely stopped plea on the half-parted lips. He was mine then more than ever. All I had to do was to reach out my hand and he would slip into my arms. And so I did, relishing the confusion on his lovely face. His skinny body that humbly bent under my hands was not enough for me. Nothing of him would ever be enough. I was a beast with him. Wild, thirsty, unmerciful. I hardly restrained myself when I took him, nor did he want me to go gentle on him. But something clenched inside of me, sweetly, bringing tears to my eyes and clawing at my chest when he pressed against me as if he wished to merge with me into a single being. It was then that I first realised that it wasn’t just a game for him. I pulled him closer, trying to share the heat that was tormenting me, while he ineptly caressed my body and kissed me in a childish manner on the corners of my lips. I think that night he came to love the storm. I didn’t deserve it, of course. It should have never been mine. Happiness. Nobody would imagine that a master and a servant could be bound by something of this kind. He let me in most every night to give himself to me. I became familiar with the sight of his neck as he threw back his head. And once again my chest tightened with something unknown when he whispered my name, his hands clasping my shoulders. At day, he was his usual stern Earl, a real nobleman for whom I was nothing. I knew it was necessary, yet it enraged me all the same. He had to be mine. He had no right to be apart from me. Have I said that I am terribly possessive? So here’s the deal — he either will be mine or he will be no more. I decided so long ago, and nothing could shake my resolve. If only I could be free of that strange feeling that took possession of me whenever I was alone with him… We burned in passion. We needed each other, and only God we had rejected could tell which one of us needed the other most. We held each other in the darkest corners where we kissed for oh so long before going separate ways, with our expressions innocent. Sometimes, wishing to play, I would, as they say, spoon-feed him while the other servants weren’t watching us. Or I would take wine in my mouth and let him drink, finishing the act with a deep kiss. They never found out about us. I demanded him whole. I wanted every thought of his to be about me, I wanted his eyes to look at me alone. He would frown and tell me that I was unbearable. My master seemed to think that I was only joking in order to delight in his pleasure. But I was not. I would forbid him everything, but sadly I was still a servant. Forgive me, for I can only love as a master. I am a demon; I cannot change my ways. And I shall leave it to you to decide if what I felt was worthy of the name of love. I wanted him. I kissed every part of his body. I went down to his feet. I lay patiently while he awkwardly stroked my body. I was gentle, I moved slowly, I did everything the way he wanted me to do. I seldom kissed him when he didn’t want it, restraining anger and desire. He scolded me and slapped me still, and I endured. For I didn’t want to be without him. Even the pain he caused me felt like a reward. Only once did I hurt him. When he spoke too nicely with his fiancée. I had warned him that I didn’t wish to see her around anymore. He held a hand against his reddened cheek, looking at me with a mixture of fear and indignation. And I… I got down to my knee and humbly turned my face for him to slap. And so he did, slap after slap, before wearily sinking to the floor next to me, his brow against my own. Next moment we were kissing and I was pulling off his clothes and pressing him to the floor…

***

He is wounded; I can feel warm blood trickle through my fingers. The torn-off arm and a few feathers sticking out of my back never hurt me, but the sight of his own wound is agonising to me. The deal is over. My lord sits obediently on a bench and awaits. I pull off his eyepatch, revealing the eye with the mark. I want to scream. To destroy all around. I don’t need it, I don’t! “Take the pain of my life with my soul.” His voice is firm and mournful. He’s like a reed against a gust of wind. I see that he’s in pain, that he’s becoming weaker with every drop of blood that has soaked through his bandage. But he keeps his eyes up on me. Even though there’s nothing he can do about the grief in his soul. I can see it, prepared for me, the one I’ve worked so hard for. But its beauty is joyless to me. The final kiss, the kiss of eternal departure… No, I don’t want this… Not like this… I don’t want to be parted from him. He is lying on my lap. His body is turning cold, and I’m still sitting here, watching his face. His closed lips of blue colour, the shadows on his cheeks cast by his lashes… I shall never see his eyes again. Yes, he is mine now more than ever, yet I can find no joy within me. And I remember… His naked body on that stormy night. How I drag him into a dark hallway and kiss him, while he pretends to resist. His blushing cheeks. His fingers running through my hair. All gone forever. The sky is dark with heavy clouds. No sound is to be heard. Without seeing it, I can sense a raven perching on a tree behind me, watching. A part of my being, a reminder of what I really am. I am a demon. The boy in my arms is all cold. A lone tear rolls down my cheek and falls onto his lips. Tell me true, did I love him?