Glasses
Title: Glasses
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji
Author: silenttaiyoukai
Rating: PG
Words: 463
Characters: Maylene/Undertaker
Summary: Maylene is given a new pair of glasses.
A/N: I have been sitting on this little fic for like three months X(
The Undertaker frowned down at the jar in his hand, then back up at the cracked pair of glasses looking down at him. He had spcifically asked her to bring him the bottle of formaldehyde, yet the jar she had handed him was clearly labeled “Tea Leaves”. Honestly, this was never going to do.
He rose from his seat and went to her, reaching out to remove her of those ridiculous glasses. She skittered away from him, backing herself up against a stack of unfinished coffins.
“What are you doing?!” Maylene stuttered.
The Undertaker smiled and began rummaging through the mess of items on his shelves. Jars of various fluids, beakers covered with an ugly white film…Everything but what he was looking for. It had been so long since he had needed them, or even thought about them, that they were probably at the very back of the cabinet.
“I think it’s time you said your goodbyes to those glasses of yours,” he said.
“But--but--” she stammered, holding her glasses to her face. “These were a gift from the Young Master! ”
The Undertaker pushed aside another jar of tea leaves and there they were, just where he had left them so many years ago. They were covered in such a thick layer of dust that they were almost unrecognizable. He blew a gentle breath across them then wiped them on his robes to clean them off.
“A gift from the Earl, eh?” the Undertaker smiled. As he approached her she turned her face away from him. “Well then, it’s understandable you would want to keep them. But the Earl is dead,” he said, and Maylene’s eyes wandered up to his face.
Her hands fell to her sides as he held the pair of glasses out to her. They were a delicate pair with a light, silver frame and square lenses. They had served him well for over three-hundred years. He had seen blood and war and countless deaths through these lenses, yet they had never broken. Glasses were essential to the working Death God, and if they were made strong enough to last through his time detailing the French Revolution, he was certain that they would be able to last through Maylene’s bouts of clumsiness.
“The Earl is dead and you are still alive,” the Undertaker said. “Isn’t it a shame that you can’t see what is right in front of you?”
Maylene took the glasses from him and he smiled, turning away and going back to his work.
“Thank you,” Maylene said, turning the pair over in her hands.
Not to his surprise, she dropped his glasses gently into the pocket of her apron and went back to cleaning the shop, still wearing the broken pair the Earl had given her.
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji
Author: silenttaiyoukai
Rating: PG
Words: 463
Characters: Maylene/Undertaker
Summary: Maylene is given a new pair of glasses.
A/N: I have been sitting on this little fic for like three months X(
The Undertaker frowned down at the jar in his hand, then back up at the cracked pair of glasses looking down at him. He had spcifically asked her to bring him the bottle of formaldehyde, yet the jar she had handed him was clearly labeled “Tea Leaves”. Honestly, this was never going to do.
He rose from his seat and went to her, reaching out to remove her of those ridiculous glasses. She skittered away from him, backing herself up against a stack of unfinished coffins.
“What are you doing?!” Maylene stuttered.
The Undertaker smiled and began rummaging through the mess of items on his shelves. Jars of various fluids, beakers covered with an ugly white film…Everything but what he was looking for. It had been so long since he had needed them, or even thought about them, that they were probably at the very back of the cabinet.
“I think it’s time you said your goodbyes to those glasses of yours,” he said.
“But--but--” she stammered, holding her glasses to her face. “These were a gift from the Young Master! ”
The Undertaker pushed aside another jar of tea leaves and there they were, just where he had left them so many years ago. They were covered in such a thick layer of dust that they were almost unrecognizable. He blew a gentle breath across them then wiped them on his robes to clean them off.
“A gift from the Earl, eh?” the Undertaker smiled. As he approached her she turned her face away from him. “Well then, it’s understandable you would want to keep them. But the Earl is dead,” he said, and Maylene’s eyes wandered up to his face.
Her hands fell to her sides as he held the pair of glasses out to her. They were a delicate pair with a light, silver frame and square lenses. They had served him well for over three-hundred years. He had seen blood and war and countless deaths through these lenses, yet they had never broken. Glasses were essential to the working Death God, and if they were made strong enough to last through his time detailing the French Revolution, he was certain that they would be able to last through Maylene’s bouts of clumsiness.
“The Earl is dead and you are still alive,” the Undertaker said. “Isn’t it a shame that you can’t see what is right in front of you?”
Maylene took the glasses from him and he smiled, turning away and going back to his work.
“Thank you,” Maylene said, turning the pair over in her hands.
Not to his surprise, she dropped his glasses gently into the pocket of her apron and went back to cleaning the shop, still wearing the broken pair the Earl had given her.