'Til Death Do Us Part (1:1) Sebastian x Reader

Your POV:

My immobilized body rested on a flower bed comprised of white roses. I felt a welcoming light breeze caress the entirety of my body, with the exception of my open wounds. The warmth of my blood cloaked me, still trickling down towards the flowerbed. My head violently pounded against my temples as I tried to remember how I ended up here.

I managed to recall a few memories, but nothing entirely essential. My mind was interrupted by the distant, muffled shouting of a few people. I had an idea of who they were, and if they discovered my body, I would tear apart their limbs…

As the group of people drew nearer to my location, I was able to make out what they were saying, “Look, there she is! I saw her collapse a while ago when I looked out the window, yes!”

“Sebastian,” another voice said.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Take her in the mansion to one of our guest bedrooms, and call a doctor.”

“Yes sir.”

Through my closed eyelids, I noticed the light emitting from the sun was blocked by a figure. I slightly opened them, and saw a tall man dressed in a butler attire with jet black hair, blood red eyes, and pale skin. An amused smirk creeped across his face, “I see you’re still alive, eh?”

I closed my eyes again and groaned as the butler slowly and carefully detached my limp body from the roses tainted with my blood. I saw these people as non-threatening, and so as the butler carried me bridal-style into the mansion, I let my mind drift away and dozed off.

Sebastian's POV:

As my master ordered me to, I carried this girl to one of the guest bedrooms, which was located in the same hallway as my master’s bedroom, as well as my own. I find no use for it since it’s considered a luxury for me.

I entered the room, and placed the girl temporarily in the bathtub. I took old sheets from the closet, and in a swift move, replaced the new sheets with the old. I took the girl out of the bathtub, and laid her on the bed.

I observed her appearance as she slept. She wore what appeared to be a white wedding dress which was stained with her crimson-red blood, and partially torn. Cuts and gashes on her arms and legs continued to bleed, and she wore bruises as well. She also had a few gunshot wounds strewn across her torso that bled heavily.

I wondered how she could still be alive. Her breathing was so shallow that anyone else would mistake her for being dead. I took her wrist and checked her pulse. It was slowing gradually.

I let her be and walked out of the room, and headed for a nearby phone. I found one near the entertainment room, and began rotating the dial pad.

After ringing a few times, I finally heard a voice:

“Hello, I’m the Doctor.”