A/N: I consider this kind of my warm-up. I want to write a multi-chapter Ciel/Lizzie centric fic, but first, I thought that it would do some good to dabble with their relationship and the way they interact. And since I haven't noticed this concept being touched upon a whole lot, I thought that I would give it my best shot.

"O wearisome condition of humanity!
Born under one law, to another bound;
Vainly begot and yet forbidden vanity;
Created sick, commanded to be sound."

— Baron Brooke

.

"No," Ciel spoke sharply, cutting his fiancée off before she could get too excited. He didn't bother looking at her, still comfortably seated behind his desk with his nose buried in a thick stack of papers. Normally he would humor her, but Ciel didn't have the patience for flippant requests this time. If she was going to interrupt his work, it would nice if she would arrange her visits ahead of time. There weren't enough hours in the day to get everything done as it was, and having Elizabeth demand his attention at the drop of a hat wasn't helping.

There was a beat of silence while Elizabeth waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she filled the silence with her voice instead. "But, Ciel," she sighed, drawing his name out so that it took a whole breath. The earl wasn't moved. Rather, he had to bite back the urge to rub his temples. "Ciel, you never come to church with us anymore. Don't you remember? Our families used to go together all the time when we were younger! And we so rarely see each other as it is, wouldn't church be—?"

"Elizabeth, I said no," he interjected a second time. Ciel lowered the product report from the Funtom Company that he was reading through to fix Elizabeth with a stern frown.

His displeasure was either unnoticed or dismissed entirely. Of course it was. They had known each other long enough that Ciel wasn't surprised. Elizabeth never took "no" for an answer. Sometimes, this trait was charming. More commonly, it was causing him quite the headache.

"You shouldn't dismiss the Lord like that." Elizabeth frowned. "You haven't been worshipping, have you? You should know better! If we don't go to worship, He might think that we've lost faith in Him."

In the corner of the room, Sebastian snorted. Ciel shot his waiting butler a glare and was met with a smirk. It wasn't as though the earl was expecting a mere look to dissuade a demon in any way.

With a sigh, Ciel got to his feet. He had given up on getting any work done whilst Elizabeth was pestering him with frivolous trivialities. "There is no such thing as not worshipping," he said dismissively. "Everyone worships something. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the only real reason for choosing some sort of God or spiritual being to worship is that most anything else you worship will eat you alive."

Ciel had come to stand in front of his fiancée. Though she was the taller of the two, he had somehow managed to tilt his head and hold himself in the right way so as to look down on her. She didn't notice, silent and thin-lipped as she considered what he said.

Finally, Elizabeth found what she wanted to say. "Ciel… what are you saying? That you don't believe in God?"

The concept troubled her, not that Ciel pitied her innocent naiveté. For a moment, he was reminded sharply of a time long since passed, when he was a child who would beg his mother to let him lead the nightly prayer. His father had never been the praying type, and given his position, Ciel wasn't surprised.

"I wouldn't say that," Ciel settled on. "Whether there is a God or not… I couldn't say. However, if there is, what has He ever done to deserve my worship? There has never been any Master nor King by my side. Whatever God there is…" he smirked faintly, "I've no doubt that He turned my back on me far before I gave up on him."

"Ciel, how could you say that?" Elizabeth protested. "We're His children! He loves us!"

Now it was Ciel's turn to snort. He reached a hand up to touch the black patch that covered his right eye. "If what I've experienced in my life is His idea of "love," then I pity the fool who makes an enemy of Him."

There wasn't a good way to refute that. Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue, only to quickly snap it shut again. Her gaze followed Ciel's touch, lingering on his covered eye. There was an acute look of pity in her eyes that made Ciel clench his jaw, but he didn't say anything in protest. "I know that you don't like talking about… what happened," she began quietly, "but if you went to church and confessed, then maybe it would take some of the pressure away…"

She hadn't even finished before Ciel was shaking his head. "I have enough enemies as it stands. I see no reason to offer up a sharper knife." The conversation was growing tedious. Ciel didn't want to upset his fiancée, but he was considering telling her flatly to drop the subject. Before Elizabeth could continue her prodding, Ciel held up a finger to signal for her to wait. "I want to explain my position to you, Lizzie, so that you understand my declination." Out of curiosity, or perhaps because he used her nickname, Elizabeth nodded. She folded her hands politely in front of herself, attentively waiting for him to continue.

Ciel thought about how to phrase his thoughts for a moment, and after a pregnant pause, let out a sigh. "'Original Sin' a doctrine central to Christian theology, which I assume you are familiar with. It states that all of mankind is, by nature, sinful and that only through faith in Christ and submission to a set of absolute truths can eternal life through salvation be achieved and a sinner be absolved of his sins. The church and its unmalleable beliefs become like a prison — even when people are dissatisfied with the way the church is run or what their pastor preaches, the faithful still hunger for a God to believe in. For some way to escape the eternal constant of death. My point, Lizzie," Ciel hurried to conclude as his fiancée grew impatient, "is that once you assume a creator and a plan, it makes humans objects in a cruel experiment whereby we are created sick and commanded to be well."

Elizabeth's expression crumbled. "Ciel…" she tried, but the fight had gone out of her voice.

"I'll go to church with you if you can take me to one that has found a loving God." Without waiting for her reaction, Ciel turned to Sebastian.

Privately, the earl smirked. If there was one person who understood worship, it was Sebastian. His reverence was like that of a dog's. Though Ciel supposed, his exaltation was no different.

Making eye contact with his servant, Ciel gave a curt nod. The butler bowed deeply in return, dismissed. "Sebastian is going to prepare your carriage for your return," he said, turning back to his lady. "I've kept you long enough. Aunt Frances won't forgive me for allowing you to be late."

Though Elizabeth nodded her understanding, she didn't speak. There was a faraway look in her eyes which Ciel felt it was best not to interrupt. It seemed that she had been left with plenty to ponder.

A/N: I'm afraid that this came out cluttered and preachy, but inspiration can do that sometimes. I do hope that it's alright for an interesting read, at least.