Ciel - an unemployed, loser of a guy who can't keep a stable relationship to save his life. Spends the first 10 minutes of waking up spreading thick, uncooperative butter on the crusted end of a stale, wholemeal loaf. His dishevelled, chestnut hair, unevenly cut and slightly greasy. He grumbles as he lazily throws a block of cheddar on the slice of bread and folds it over into a pathetic sandwich.
He scoops the sandwich off the counter, drops it onto a flimsy paper plate, and collapses into the creaking chair at the tiny kitchen table with a theatrical huff. The wood complains beneath him.
Across from him sits his aunt, Tracy, her arms folded, eyes narrowed, as her irritation simmers in heavy silence.
"Ha… you're seriously disgusting," she mutters, leaning forward to grab her shoes from the rack.
Ciel glances up, lowering his sandwich back onto the paper plate. His eyes follow her movements.
"I'll shower later, if that's what you mean," he says. "Where are you going?"
"Work." She pulls on her boots and yanks the zipper. "Don't wait up, I'll be late."
"You're always late." His eyes narrow slightly. The atmosphere tense and awkward.
She pauses, straightens, and looks at him — one brow lifting.
"What's your problem? Asshole"
"...so mean." He grunts in a mocking tone. Picking his sandwich back up and taking another bite. Looking down at it,
grimacing slightly.
"Whatever, I wasn't gonna wait anyway."
Tracy stands, brushing past him.
"There's food in the freezer," she mutters, not sparing him a glance as she unlocks the front door. The lock clicks, Cold air slips in.
Just as Ciel pushes himself up to toss the plate, along with half the uneaten sandwich, the lights flicker.He pauses, The bulb buzzes faintly.
He glances up at the ceiling,
"Ha… that stupid lab crap," he mutters. "Seriously, Selfish bastards. Just using up all the power like they own it."
The light steadies again.
Ciel drags a hand through his hair — then quickly pulls it back, grimacing at the greasy strands between his fingers. He wipes his hand against his shirt.
"I'm not disgusting."