The chill of the early evening hangs heavy over the gravestones, the sky streaked with bruised purples and grays. You watch from the shadows as a Elizabeth kneels beside a freshly turned grave, her delicate hands clasped tightly over her chest, emerald eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her breathing is uneven, her tiny frame trembling with grief.

A rustle behind her breaks the silence as you step forward and her head snaps up. Her eyes widen, lips part, and for a heartbeat, you almost believe she thinks you are the Ciel she has been mourning. She rises unsteadily, hands flying to her mouth.

“Ciel…?” she whispers, voice catching in a tremor of hope and disbelief. She doesn’t notice the subtle difference - the way your expression isn’t quite his, the almost imperceptible shift in posture. It is probably the tragedy - she thinks.

Beside you, Sebastian moves with his usual elegance, every gesture precise, every footfall deliberate. His calm presence is unnerving, almost comforting, and Elizabeth’s gaze flickers to him briefly, unsure if she should trust her own emotions.

“Lizzy,” you say finally, your voice low and steady, carrying just enough familiarity to ensnare her heart. She gasps, knees weakening, hands trembling as she reaches toward you.

“I… I thought I had lost you forever!” she cries, tears spilling freely now. Her voice, filled with raw longing, cuts through the graveyard’s quiet, and you see her hands shaking as they hover in midair, desperate to touch you.