[ He puts his other hand over his face, because he hates this feeling. He can't just let these thoughts slip away! Earlier today, there were too many, and now, he can't grasp onto a single thing. On the operating table last night, Oz had said things that were just because he didn't know any better, but...
Was it even a table? He hadn't been mopping the floor. It was that day brought back to life, and he had been the one to create it. Ciel is getting visibly upset, because he's fighting this feeling, but still, no matter how he tries to grasp onto those feeble threads of thought, he can't manage it. ]
Why does it have to be us? Why not someone else? Why don't they get it, so this doesn't feel like murder?
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[ He puts his other hand over his face, because he hates this feeling. He can't just let these thoughts slip away! Earlier today, there were too many, and now, he can't grasp onto a single thing. On the operating table last night, Oz had said things that were just because he didn't know any better, but...
Was it even a table? He hadn't been mopping the floor. It was that day brought back to life, and he had been the one to create it. Ciel is getting visibly upset, because he's fighting this feeling, but still, no matter how he tries to grasp onto those feeble threads of thought, he can't manage it. ]
Why does it have to be us? Why not someone else? Why don't they get it, so this doesn't feel like murder?