Catching Cold- Sick!Ciel X Reader

Sick!Ciel X Reader

  Working at the Phantomhive manor was always hard. Making sure the young master was pleased was an incredulous hassle as it was, and Sebastian's expectations were almost impossibly high for you. If you pissed off Sebastian, you almost certainly also pissed off Ciel. But all the same, you loved it there.

  You never thought things would become even more demanding until Ciel caught a common cold- and a bad one at that.

  The Earl was not used to his fragile body catching cold, and since he secluded himself from most of the world, it wasn't very likely for him to get sick very often. From outside his room, you could hear the young master chastising Sebastian, his voice raspy and even lower than it already was (which wasn't much). Every few seconds, he would pause to sniffle. "Sebastian, this is all because you forced me to attend that horrid party. I'm ill now, and how on earth am I to attend my duties like- like-AAAAAACHOOOOOOO!"

  "Young Master, you have a simple cold. It shall be gone before the end of the week. Many people your age acquire these short-term illnesses. You will be fine, as long as we treat you with the proper care."

  "This is simply awful. I've never been this sick in my life. What is wrong with my throat?"
  "It is a sore throat, milord."

  He groaned in frustration, and Sebastian, through the door, sighed. "You shall be fine as long as you have lots of rest. I will go and cancel your appointments for the next few days."

  Ciel mumbled something inaudable, and you felt vaguely sorry for him. It WAS just a cold, but to him, it was something much worse.

  "Anyhow, I have matters to attend to, and some errands. I won't be back until around nighttime."
  "You mean to tell me you're just leaving me her-"

  "I will send one of our staff in to help you today."

  With that, Sebastian exited, and you jumped as he stepped into the hallway. You hoped he didn't think you had been listening the whole time. You curled your fingers around the handle of the cart that stood in front of you, filled with laundry.

  "(Y/n)," said Sebastian evenly, making his way over to you. Not a single thing about him was out of place; even his tailored suit had no wrinkles to meet the eye. "Master has taken ill. I need you to care for him for the rest of the day. Entertain him."

  You nodded, perhaps a bit frantically. "Yes, sir."

  In ten minutes, you were back at the Earl's bedroom, a fresh cart in front of you, stocked with tea, chicken noodle soup, and a few other things. You could hear him groaning every few seconds, coughing, or sneezing. You knocked gingerly on the door.

  "What is it?"

  You opened the door and wheeled your items into the room. Then, with your heel, you shut the door behind you. Ciel was lying on his back, sheets pulled to his chin, his skin sickly pale and undereye circles accentuated. The only color on his face was his sapphire eye, and the red tip of his nose. He looked a bit cute, but you wouldn't dare say that out loud.

  "How are you today?"

  "What do you THINK I'm feeling like? Are you some sort of a moron?"

  "No, sir. I was just trying to be polite." You walked over to him and quietly took a seat at the edge of his bed.

  "Well, you can leave now. I am not in need of any help. In fact, I should be doing work-"

  "No. Sebastian ordered me to take care of you for the rest of the day. And you will not be doing any sort of work. You'll catch your death of cold." You placed the back of your hand onto his forehead, and he did little to stop you. It was very hot, and you drew your hand away.

  "You may have a fever," you said. Then you reached into the bottom of your cart and pulled out a small bucket of ice water and a rag. "Luckily, I brought some things for you."

  You dipped the rag into the water and then gently patted it on his forehead. He reacted with a deep sigh, and you continued applying water, cooling him down and offering him some sort of relief. He breathed shortly, and you brought the rag down to his chin, watching the droplets of water make their way down his angular face. "How's that feel?"  

  He did not respond, and instead cleared his throat. As you continued to pat the icy water all across his face, he spoke. "There may as well be a knife in my throat." You didn't reply at first, listening to the pleasant sound that it made as you dipped the cloth back into the bucket. The pieces of ice whirled around your fingers, and you squeezed the dripping rag back into the bucket so it wouldn't be too soggy. For a few moments, all that could be heard was Ciel's congested breathing, and the removal of excess water.

  "Well, young master, I do hear that honey and lemon in a nice cup of tea can do wonders for a sore throat." You made your way down to his neck, and then paused to obtain more water. He was very warm, and you wondered if he had the flu rather than a cold. He was a slight pink tone, and he looked ill to you. You dabbed at his hairline and the nape of his neck, slightly lifting his head to do so. He took a bit to respond.

  "Hm. I'll have some of that. And I'd like you to read me my mail, as long as you're in here. Might as well make yourself useful."

  You rolled your eyes, and he did not notice. You drained the last of the water in the rag and left it on his forehead and grabbed the teapot that you had brought. You poured him a cup, and then used the small pitchers of honey and lemon juice you had brought, which matched the teapot. When you finished mixing it, you handed it to him carefully. "Careful. It's hot. Don't spill it on yourself."

  "I'm not an idiot," he said sharply, and then coughed. He winced in pain, and you rubbed his back comfortingly as he sat up in pain. Then he brought the cup to his lips.

  "I'll go get your mail," you said, and made your way to his study, where a few envelopes were stacked neatly on his desk. You sifted through them, saw nothing of interest, and then headed back to his bedroom.

  "Did you make do while I was gone?" You smiled playfully, but he did not respond. You dragged a velvet-bound chair across the bedroom next to his bed and took a seat, setting the letters on your lap. You watched as he sipped on his tea, paused to sniffle, and then sit in uncomfortable pain for a few seconds before retrieving another sip.

  "I don't need to be baby-sat," he finally said stiffly. You blew air through your mouth, annoyed, and spoke after contemplating your words.

  "I'm not babysitting you. I'm making sure you're at your utmost comfort. Now, what sort of maid would I be if I let you suffer here all alone?"

  "Whatever. Just get on with the letters."

  One by one, you read each message to him. Every letter usually made him a little bit angrier, and when you finally reached a final envelope which read "Alois Trancy" in the return address, he nearly spat his tea out.

  "Don't even open it, rip it up. I detest that moron, and hearing from him is going to make this day worse than it already is."

  "Well, okay, then," you laughed, and began tearing it into shreds, much to the delight of Ciel. Once it was in a good fifty pieces, you scooped up the remnants and threw them down onto the cart. You realized that sweat was slowly making its way down the side of your face.

  "I'll open the windows, young master. It's quite stuffy in here."

  "Alright, but-"

  "Yes?"

  "I was wondering if you wouldn't call me young master. It doesn't feel right rolling off of your tongue. Perhaps just try Ciel."

  "Okay, Ciel." You chuckled, and headed to the window. It was a bit stuck, but after forcing it with your arms, it opened. The cool autumn air drifted into the room, and you could sense the instant relief from Ciel. "This should help with your congestion."

  He propped himself higher in the bed, and was set at an odd, awkward position before you suggested you help him with the pillows. He reluctantly agreed, and you fluffed each pillow so that he could sit up straight. Then he looked at you seriously.

  "It's quite hot in here, still. You must be dying in that maid's outfit." You looked down. It was a black dress, one which hit just above your knees. It was a thick material, and was long sleeved with cuffs at the wrists. You also had on a garter belt with nylon thigh-highs, which one could not see without pulling up your dress. Finally, you wore low-heeled black shoes. Your face bloomed red.

  "No, I'm fine."

  "I demand you change into something more comfortable. If I am to be of utmost comfort, so are you."

  "I-"

  "Go," he said boredly. "I don't see how it would be wise to turn down my orders."

  "Very well," you said, and turned around. You left to go to your room, and when there, you searched through your selection of clothing. You did not have many items of clothing, as you were usually in your uniform, but for days off and times in which you visited family, you had a few things that you could wear. You essentially decided upon a lovely light pink dress, lacy and beautiful, with a matching petticoat. It was very airy, and it had short sleeves made up of the finest fibers of lace. Underneath was a loosely tied corset. It was quite comfortable for a constricting garment of clothing.

  The entire dress was trimmed with black, so as to not be too childish, and the ribbon laces across the front were entirely raven. You finished the outfit with sheer white stockings, a black ribbon tied around your neck, and you fixed your (h/c) hair so that it was twisted on top of your head and out of your eyes. You were nervous for Ciel to see you.

  When you were finished, you walked back to his room and through the door. A very vague smile touched upon his face, and all at once you were tinted with roses again. "I presume this is good enough for you, young master?"

  "Ciel," he said in his usual monotone voice. "I told you to call me Ciel. Are you dense?"
  "Sorry. Ciel." You were getting flustered, and he knew it. He was watching you intently with his blue eye, and suddenly was enveloped in a coughing fit.

  "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine," he croaked.

  "Shall I pour you more tea?"

  "I told you, I'm fine."

  You sat down in your chair and looked down at him. "What shall we do now?"

  "How the hell should I know?"

  There was this thing about Ciel. Ciel was always so cold, and yet he was never a bad person. Never once had he hit you, or made you feel like dirt. He was respectful, usually, to his staff, and he never grew too angry. When he was annoyed, though, he would remove himself from the scene and occupy himself with other things. You liked Ciel a lot. He was different, unique, and he intrigued you.

  "Can I ask you something, Ciel?"

  "Yes?"

  "Why did you have me change into this dress?"

  "Because I wanted to. May I ask you something, (y/n)?"

  "Of course."

  "How do you like working here?"

  You thought after this. It was pretty nice, actually. You had hardly any complaints. The pay was good, you were treated well, and you had made quite good friends with the other staff members. You and Mey Rin frequently spent your days off together. Sebastian was okay, and although the work was sometimes tedious, it was nothing to dislike.

  "I enjoy it a lot, actually."

  "(Y/N)?"

  "Yes?"

  "What do you think of me?"

  What do you think of Ciel? What an odd question! You didn't know what to say at first, and for a few moments you were silent. Then you spoke.

  "Well, I never do have much time to talk to you. You're always so busy, and I hardly ever go into your study. I always just thought of you as young master, the one who I'm working for. I never had much of an opinion on you until now."

  "Well, what do you think of me now?"

  "I think you're interesting." Interesting, though, was quite the understatement. You could even say you had developed a bit of a crush on him in your conversations as you cared for him, although you knew that was something you'd never speak of. You were fascinated with his past, and his present and future. His chest dipped.

  "Hm," he said, before blowing his nose into a tissue. He did not bring up your odd little conversation again, and after a while you had nearly forgotten about it. In the couple of hours afterwords, you had dabbed his face again with the wet rag, fed him chicken noodle soup against his protests, and read to him a book so that he would not be bored. The evening was growing closer, and had found you hadn't grown bored at all.

   You were fixing his bedsheets so that Ciel was tucked in, his feverish skin sticking to them, when he spoke. "That dress. You look rather nice."

  "I- thank you, Ciel. That's quite kind of you to say."

  "Why on earth are you blushing?"

  "I- I'm not," you stammered. Damn. You thought he hadn't noticed.

  "I can obviously see that you are. Your face is going bright red."

  "Uh, okay. Whatever you say, Ciel."

  He just sighed and fell back onto his pillow, groaning, and then craned his neck to face you. There was an unreadable expression on his face, but you weren't sure if it was just because he was sick and miserable. And then, all of the sudden, he spoke quietly. Again, you could not register his emotion, but each word he spoke was clear. "I- I want to apo- I want to let you know that I did not mean to come across as hateful to you in any way."

  "Ciel, it's-"

  "No. I was rude to you, and for that I will- uh, apologize."

  Ciel apologized? And to you of all people! You didn't think you'd ever heard the young Earl apologize ever, all the time you'd worked there. And suddenly he was doing it to you- even though he was uncertain, he still was saying those words.

  "It's nothing."

  "Come here, (y/n)."

  You walked over to him slowly, and took his extended hand. He folded his fingers over yours, and let out a deep sigh. "I also want to thank you."

  "The pleasure is all mine."

  "No- really. I was very ungrateful to you at first, but I would have been entirely unhappy had you not been here."

  "It's no problem at all."

  "I'd like to see you again. When I'm not like this."

  You giggled slightly, and he half-smiled at you. "Yes. Definitely, Ciel."