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He feels you tense up a little when he presses his body lightly but firmly against your own tiny frame. As he reaches for the ceramic plate that you had difficulty reaching, you found yourself relaxing a little. The demon tensed up a little, drowning in the euphoria your soul emitted. You offered him a tiny smile for gratitude when he hands you the plate – he acknowledges the gesture with a tiny nod.

“Do take more care with the plates next time, [name].”

You smelt so intoxicatingly sweet; it took all of his self control to stop himself from advancing towards you, pinning your body against the wall and then eating you right there and then. But he inhaled, taking a deep breath. He slowly retreated from you when you nodded. He retreats from your frame, but you do not stop tensing up until he completely leaves the room.

The tall butler has been nothing but a gentleman, but something about him still unnerved you greatly. The looks he passed you often made your blood run cold. You found yourself working harder and much more conscientiously so that he could focus his attention on the other servants around. But if anything, that backfired. After all, you were the only human around.

He paid you even more attention. Not that you could do anything about that. Contact, however, was avoidable and you went about trying to minimize it. But there was an occasional slip-up; sometimes something would be placed too high or something. You were only human, after all. And just like today, he would gently press his body against your back and rendered you assistance – but there was just something so wrong with it. Even brief contact would send your skin crawling, even though you tried your best to hide them.

ii

He had a taste of your soul once.

It was a night like tonight. There was a storm raging on outside the manor. Following the distinct smell of blood, he was led right into your quarter. It seemed that you had suffered from a paper cut, he thought as he inspected the tiny wound on your finger. Considering the tiny area of the wound, you did not think it was necessary to cover the open wound with a bandage of the like.

“Foolish human,” he thought as he placed his lips against your finger, eyes widening.

You tasted like freshly-picked apples.

If he had to be perfectly honest, your soul was nothing special. Compared to the likes of a delicacy like Ciel Phantomhive, you are a budget meal that peasants can easily buy on the streets. But Sebastian had spent time seasoning the boy to his liking while you were just a human. Claude had not eaten in ages; and you tasted too balanced and delicate, it was almost sinful.

Right there and then, he was tempted to puncture a hole into you so he could just eat you. But he pulled back before he could put his plan into action. Grazing your cheek with a slender finger, he thinks about the day he would finally get to eat you.

He gets goose bumps thinking about it.

Of course, there has been one too many opportunities for him to eat you. Being new, you were careless. It left him many opportunities to get closer to you, even though they quickly dwindled when you knew something was wrong. Wanting to not get his attention, you worked harder. However, despite your measures, you were only human. There was little that you could do.

You could stop a demon from craving for your soul.

iii

Claude was a demon.

He tossed a look down at you, one that is conflicted and full of craving. You are bundled up in sheets, seemingly fast sleep; especially with your eyes closed and breathing steady. He watches you for a minute. Collar bones exposed, with patches of red covering it. With some buttons of your shirt exposed, this was almost too much for him. He crouches down, face barely inches from yours. With a slender finger, his fingers are barely grazing your cheek.

Demons don’t love.

He wanted to puncture a hole into you. He took pleasure in imagining life slowly bleed out from your tiny form. He wanted to ravage you until you are a ghost of your formal self. He saw you only as a meal. The idea of love was ridiculous to the bespectacled demon who thinks that nothing is more pleasurable than watching the light in your eyes disappear.

He doesn’t love you, he thinks as he swoops down for a messy kiss.

How many times has he been tempted to eat you whole? The few times you tried to escape from his clutches, you got away from excruciating pain in your legs. That one time you tried to take your life, he punished you by keeping you alive. After all, what was the fun if he downed you at just one go?

He pushes a loose strand away from face.

The look in your eyes is something that he doesn’t know how to pinpoint. It intrigued and burnt him, all at the same time. No matter how much he hurts you, the light in your eyes doesn’t flicker away. You cry, even though you should have run out of tears a long time ago. Your eyes are not filled with anger, they are filled with pain.

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Your tears tasted sweet to the demon. He pulls you in for another kiss. Secretly, he hoped that you would voluntarily put your arms around the back of his neck, because your presence is comforting for the demon. But your hands are lying limp by your side in an act of quiet defiance. Your eyes start to water up, your breath hitches a little as he deepens it on his own accord.