Summary: Goals accomplished or not, time is up. The contract is coming to an end, and Sebastian wants what's his. Ciel, on the other hand, has other ideas.

(Previous Scene, Sebastian PoV.) You should read it if you haven't already, or you'll be confused.

Epilogue: the Catch.

The grip on my chin is firm, almost painful. Sebastian’s eyes seem too large for his face, so bright they are. He opens his mouth and I expect to see nothing but his teeth and glowing red eyes.

But it’s only the same old thin, mocking smile. He lightens his grip and his fingers are like butterflies against my neck and my cheek.

I can’t help but tremble when he leans in, lips parted enough to see pearly teeth and a red tongue. Our lips meet. His fingers tighten against me.

Drawing back, Sebastian sighs. “Six years…the time never seemed so short,” he murmurs.  

I meet his gaze, determined to at least appear confident. The same proud, not-quite-broken boy he took an interest in. Didn’t I say it? He would prefer an equal, not a cowered fool. “Then do me a favor. What is it to you to spend another six years with me?” I wet my lips and try to mirror Sebastian’s crooked smile.
¬¬¬¬
A useless bit of advice from Alois comes to mind. If you copy what others do—their habits, gestures—just enough, they will trust you that much more. It’s called mirroring, or something similar. I stroke Sebastian’s cheek.

Sebastian chuckles, dark and mysterious as the not-quite-human-thing I first saw through the bars of a cage.  “Listen. All things are balanced,”

on the edge of my teeth, I think, but he continued, and I can’t make out what he says.

His sigh is like a gale. He leans over me, and the words tumble out like a curse.
“Though sightless be I,
it is solace I offer
There, aloft
And gone again.
I lie
between all things,
And though tight your fist is
I am gone when it opens.

“Close your eyes, Ciel. And there I will be.”

Silence is cold and heavy between us.

What just happened? Did he agree to my terms? Or not? I think the words over again and again, trying to fit them into some pattern that I can understand. It maddens me. I don’t know what he means.

Then I hear it. “Say nothing but your answer, Ciel. It is a riddle.” A small, distant voice shrieks alongside the wind outside my window.

I lean away from him, and my body stiffens. My heart (the traitorous thing), races and I’m sure my eyes would be wide with fear and surprise. I close them.

The world stands still.

I see it there in my marked eye. Something quiet, patient, and dark. I know what it is, and I open my mouth.

“Darkness,” I whisper.

And Sebastian says something—some terrible word, some syllable that sounds like a haunting, lonely death. I can feel it echo in my bones, and pulse in my eyes.

Then it’s gone.

It takes an age to comprehend it, though his lips barely move. What is this? Is this the spell?

Sebastian smiles.  “Yes…darkness.” He nods, nearly imperceptibly. “That is one way to translate it…” he lifts his hand to his mouth, touches his index finger to his lips. “There are other nuances, of course.”

Then I know. It’s his name.

A million other implications flit through my head. How can I say that? How can I use it? “You just…”

“…not all of it.” He replies, smirking. “It is but a fragment of who I am.”

I lean in, and relax my mind. I try and repeat what he said, but only a faulty imitation comes out. When I say something remotely like it, Sebastian smirks.

“To a new conclusion, then?” he breathes. “Six years…six nights, and six chances.”

I nod, and look up at him. It is a single fragment, this shard of his Name. And how it echoes in my head.

Playing games with demons never was so tempting.

His kiss is like poison, burning and promising release.

---

(end)

A/N: I think there’s a kind of beauty in an open-ended story. It invites the reader to pick up where the author left off.