The tension in the room was thick enough to feel.

You stood near the table, breathing uneven, your patience already worn thin. Across from you, Ciel looked just as stubborn—arms crossed, expression set, completely unwilling to budge.

“It was an accident,” he said, though there was nothing apologetic about it.

In front of me lied my childhood bunny, ear torn completely off. How he "accidentally" ripped it off, I don't know.

“That doesn’t make it better!” you shot back. “You didn’t even try to fix it,"

Ciel’s gaze sharpened. “And what exactly would you have me do? Apologize for something so trivial?”

The word trivial hit like a spark to dry kindling.

Your hands curled into fists. “You don’t get to call it that—”

“Oh? And I suppose you’ll lecture me on what does and doesn’t matter now? It's a toy, it's childish.”

You stepped forward, anger rising fast, words already forming—

—and then—

A soft, almost amused sigh.

“Really, Young Master,” Sebastian’s voice slipped into the room smoothly, “must we schedule arguments so close to tea time?”

The shift was immediate.

Not gone—but interrupted.

He stepped between you with effortless timing, one gloved hand lightly lifting as if to pause the entire moment.

“I do try to maintain a certain standard within the manor,” he continued, tone mild, almost conversational. “Raised voices do make it rather difficult.”

Ciel clicked his tongue. “Stay out of it, Sebastian.”

“Ah,” he replied, a faint smile touching his expression, “if only that were an option.”

Then his attention turned to you.

There was something lighter in his gaze now—not dismissive, not serious enough to add pressure. Just enough to take the edge off everything threatening to spill over.

“And you,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “look as though you’re about two seconds away from saying something you’ll regret... Or worse” he added thoughtfully,

“doing something I’ll have to clean up afterward.”

It was subtle—but there.

That hint of dry humor.

The tension cracked just enough to breathe through.

Before you could respond, he gently shifted, guiding you back a step—not forceful, just easy, natural, like redirecting rather than stopping.

“Come,” he said, softer now. “I believe a change of scenery would be beneficial… for everyone involved.”