A.T
Feet pounding on the ground hoping to get way from those who wish to harm him, Ciel Phantomhive didn’t look behind him. He tries to ignoring the pounding of his heart in his chest while berating himself not leaving the warmth of the hotel room in the chilly night in London while doing an assignment for the Queen. Things been getting to him for the many responsibilities as the Queen‘s Dog that its hard to be just Ciel Phantomhive so he had to get out for a bit only to find himself in a situation of being chased in the streets by some goons working for the drug dealer he‘s after.. Heart racing in his twelve year mind is the only thought, ‘I’m such an idiot for not leaving a note.’
“Get back here Phantomhive!” The voices roar making him push his tired body to move faster in the alleyways.
He has to find a hiding spot and stay there until he can think of something. No he won’t contact Sebastian. He has to do this for himself. He can’t always relay on his demon butler for everything. Tears burn at the corner of his eyes making him scoff for being weak. Now isn’t the time to let them shed. It’s bad enough he has never truly grieve for his parents and pushing himself to do the many jobs for the Queen as her Dog.
How he loath that stupid name, The Queen’s Dog. He’s no one’s Dog! He scowls feeling the anger burn which gives him more energy to thrive on. He makes a sharp turn in another alley way finding a box in the middle of two trash cans. He dives in curling himself into a small ball as the group of people rush by making him scowl. He waits several moments after they pass before picking his head out to see if the coast is clear.
“Get back here Phantomhive!” The voices roar making him push his tired body to move faster in the alleyways.
He has to find a hiding spot and stay there until he can think of something. No he won’t contact Sebastian. He has to do this for himself. He can’t always relay on his demon butler for everything. Tears burn at the corner of his eyes making him scoff for being weak. Now isn’t the time to let them shed. It’s bad enough he has never truly grieve for his parents and pushing himself to do the many jobs for the Queen as her Dog.
How he loath that stupid name, The Queen’s Dog. He’s no one’s Dog! He scowls feeling the anger burn which gives him more energy to thrive on. He makes a sharp turn in another alley way finding a box in the middle of two trash cans. He dives in curling himself into a small ball as the group of people rush by making him scowl. He waits several moments after they pass before picking his head out to see if the coast is clear.