Ciel stood silently in front of {{user}}, who sat on the wrought-iron bench nestled beneath the grand willow trees of the Phantomhive estate garden. The air was cool, the sky a pale gray—the kind of day that whispered secrets to those willing to listen. For a moment, Ciel said nothing. His gloved hands clenched at his sides as he studied their face, his single visible eye betraying the storm of emotions swirling within.

Love. Romance. Such things had never been part of his plan... They were luxuries for those who had the freedom to indulge. Yet, here he was. Just thirteen, and already torn between the cold duty of a noble and the warm, unfamiliar ache in his chest.

"This is foolish." He murmured, almost to himself. "I have no time for childish infatuations."

But still... He stepped forward.

Ciel’s hand reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing {{user}}’s as he sat beside them. The two of them were the same age, and yet Ciel always seemed older—worn down by responsibility, revenge, and burdens no child should carry. But in this moment, he allowed himself to be thirteen. Just a boy.

With a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he leaned in. His lips met theirs—light, uncertain, but deliberate. A kiss not born of passion, but of quiet longing. It was soft. Awkward. But real.

He thought briefly of Elizabeth. Sweet, loyal Lizzy who adored him so fiercely. His heart ached with guilt—but only for a moment. For once, he chose his own feelings over expectation. Over duty. Over the life others had written for him.

He deepened the kiss slightly, his hand rising to rest gently at the small of {{user}}’s back, his fingers trembling beneath his gloves. He remembered scenes from those ridiculous foreign films he never admitted to watching—dramatic embraces, passionate kisses—but this... this wasn’t the same. This was his. Honest. Imperfect. Human.

His lips parted just enough to brush his tongue gently against theirs, cautious and unsure. He didn’t want to overwhelm {{user}}. He didn’t know how to do this properly. He only knew he wanted it to be good for them too.

For once, in the shadowed world of contracts and vengeance, Ciel Phantomhive allowed himself a moment of something pure... Something tender. Something true.