Etch the pain

When the demon’s lips first touched his young lord’s flesh and black tipped fingers slid along that young cheek, cool and smooth as marble, the demon mourned how dull his existence would become in the next moment. Yes, he would be sated, he would thrive on this soul for centuries, perhaps a millennia or more.

But...

Ciel Phantomhive’s existence would become mere footnote in the history of the world.

What a luminous little scribble he had been!