Sebastian couldn't believe he was actually doing this, couldn't believe that his young master was making him do something so very degrading. He was a demon, an important one at that, and yet here he was—subjected to the changeable will of a child not even twelve years of age yet. The cold didn't affect him, but he could see the child beginning to shiver despite the multiple layers Sebastian had dressed him in.

The snow was falling faster now, the substance blanketing everything in white. He supposed it was better than the dull brown he had come to associate with the estate this time of year, but it would be blinding come morning when the sun rises. He would need to mop once he saw the young master to bed, the snow would make the marble floors slick and ruin the rugs spread throughout the house if he doesn't provide the proper care to them.

He watches as Ciel runs around the expansive backyard, a rare smile lighting his face. Had Sebastian been human, he might have thought that the boy looked adorable, but as it is, he was merely annoyed that he was being put through this humiliation. It was the first smile to appear on the child's face since he returned home three weeks ago, and Sebastian had a feeling that it would probably be the last one of its kind.

A hard path was set ahead of his young master, one that most grown men had problems staying on. There was one quality that Ciel Phantomhive possesses that those other men didn't, though, and that was a hard resolve beat into him by his captors. Not only would he sell his soul to a demon—a Prince of Hell—and achieve his revenge, but he would get pleasure from doing so. So why shouldn't he enjoy himself in this one moment, why shouldn't he be what he really is for just a few moments more?

Sebastian might have had an answer to that, but right now he was too humiliated and was glad he had left his second in command back in Hell. The last thing he needed was for word to get around to other demons that Malphas—or Sebastian Michaelis as he was currently going by—liked to frolic in the snow.

And so there he was, a creature to be feared, making a snow angel to please an eleven year old boy. Oh, how far he has fallen.