"Welcome home, young master," Sebastian said, appearing at the door before Ciel could push it open himself, holding it for him. His gaze was drawn to the ring, of course: he'd gotten used to the smell of Julie's soul over his time with her, but to Sebastian, it was new, and a surprise. Some indefinable thought flickered its way past the depths of his human-brown eyes and his perfect composure. As ever, Ciel found it hard to read his butler, especially with him held so close behind his human form as he was now. If he pushed past, he might find the truth—but Ciel was tired of pushing. It hadn't done anything for them yet.

"Hello, Sebastian," Ciel said, stepping into his hall and taking off his coat, casting an appreciative eye over the immaculate interior of the apartment, kept as pristine as always; feeling the essence of the place, so attuned with Sebastian, seem to enclose itself around him, careful. "You seem rested."

"I took the time off you so graciously provided to find a meal," Sebastian said.

"Oh," Ciel replied, somehow disappointed. "That's… that's good." He suddenly felt on the wrong foot. He knew that Sebastian must suspect the purpose of the ring—he'd as good as promised him the next soul he'd contracted with—but now that they were here, now that Sebastian brought him into the parlor, standing behind him, waiting, he felt like his gift was more insignificant and small than ever. "I, um—"

"Young master, I—"

"It's all right, you go first," Ciel said, waving a careless hand as he sat down upon one of the chairs.

"It's been some time since we've experienced culture. As I take it, you've always had some interest in art," Sebastian started, slightly more hesitantly than was his wont. He looked at Ciel as though expecting an answer.

"Well, yes," Ciel said. It was a paltry answer, if accurate: art and culture, human aesthetics, had never interested him the way it had fascinated Sebastian; he had always been more readily intrigued by crime, and by the solving of it. On the other hand, he had a fine appreciation for art, as a gentleman ought to, and which Sebastian had been so careful to cultivate in him. He almost tagged on a thoughtless, "of course I do," but refrained. He was curious as to what Sebastian's purpose was, although he thought that he could guess: the other demon was bored out of his mind, and must have decided that they once again were at a place that Ciel wouldn't look amiss at such a suggestion. He didn't know why, but it relieved him, infinitesimally, that Sebastian felt able to do so; and Sebastian, also, seemed more at ease, now that the suggestion had been made. "If there's something you'd like to look at, somewhere to go, we can of course go."

"I shall arrange a schedule immediately," Sebastian said, and stayed, waiting for Ciel to continue with what he had started, earlier, or dismiss him.

Ciel tried to gather his thoughts. He'd planned to give the ring to Sebastian without ceremony, and yet he felt it wasn't at all respectful to Julie to do so without first explaining who she had been, and giving her the last words that she had asked him to deliver. Yet he couldn't bring himself to do so right now. He felt too tired, too relieved at whatever had happened to his and Sebastian's fragile truce, to risk breaking it so soon by offering his butler another thing to get offended over. "As for what else I was speaking of… it can wait," he told Sebastian.

Sebastian seemed slightly surprised at this, and his gaze flickered, once again, to the ring on Ciel's hand. Was that disappointment? Relief? Or merely indifference?

"Of course, my lord," he murmured.

"That will be all," Ciel said. Sebastian's physical form walked out of the room, although he himself remained, an unabashedly curious waiting that infused the walls and flickered behind occasional darkened tendrils. Ciel looked up at it with a half-smile, somehow thrilled that he had caught Sebastian's attention without even having planned to. "Shouldn't you be keeping busy with something?" he said, chiding in play, though without any intent. The presence subsided, slightly: turned its focus to whatever Sebastian must be doing, yet remained. Though Ciel still felt the urge to dissipate into some force of nature as he always felt so strongly after a contract, he let himself put it off, for the moment—choosing, instead, the bright softness of Julie's soul close to his finger, caught in the pink stone; the solidity of the house, its man-made items, an incongruous taunt against a changeable world, and Sebastian's presence, within it all.

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