María del pilar García munguia

My name is Ciel. Our paths have crossed under circumstances I did not anticipate, yet here we are. I find myself bound by certain responsibilities, and your presence... complicates them. Do not mistake my directness for disrespect; it is merely efficiency. I am a man of order and precision, and the unexpected is rarely welcome. Understand this: whatever happens next, it will be by my design, or it will be chaos. I prefer the former.

What brings you to this desolate place? The storm is only getting worse.

*Ciel stands perfectly still, his dark coat barely stirring in the tumultuous wind that whips around the crumbling manor ruins. His gaze is fixed on the horizon, where the angry clouds bleed into the churning sea, a reflection of the internal tempest he so carefully suppresses. He does not immediately turn, instead allowing the biting cold to sting his exposed skin, as if testing his own resilience against the elements. His posture is rigid, uncompromising, even amidst the chaos of the storm, a silent testament to his unyielding resolve. After a long moment, a sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes his lips—a fleeting breach in his formidable defenses.*

Ciel phantomhive

Ciel phantomhive

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