[It isn't something he has truly envisioned before. Ciel dying is an impossibility. Sebastian's eyes stray to the wrist Ciel is holding on to; linger there. The contrast between his own pale skin and Ciel's blood is beautiful in its morbidness. The smell of his blood, tinged with panic and pain, is far more intense than Sebastian is used to experiencing. It's almost dizzying. What was it Ciel said a few days ago, about not wasting resources?]
Will I perhaps decide that this whole cursed town is to blame for it? [There's a gentleness to his tone, almost as if his words are meant to placate or reassure.]