Till Death do we Part Sebastian x reader

His Maid, Confessing

Sebastian stared at you. He didn't expect that to fall out your mouth either.

"What ha-"

"She sold me out," you cut him off before he could finish his question, growing nervous as you could practically feel an enchantment on your tongue forcing you to speak. You didn't know why but words just started pouring out, like it was there all these years just waiting for someone to ask so you could finally spit it out.

"Not prostitution thankfully," you added quickly, cursing mentally that you still found it in you to try and defend her even a smidgen.

"Not directly anyway, she still had a few scrap morals left," you said bitterly. "My father was against sending me to work but he loved her more than life itself. And you know the saying 'Happy wife, happy life'? That was a reality. If she wasn't happy, then no one else deserved to be. It would've been better if she sent me to a workhouse. I would've seen less death and pain. Every few days I was switched to someone else's gang to work for, cleaning bloodstained floors and humans remains, even scattering and burying body parts. Just- bloody bags dripping like I collected meat from a slaughterhouse. Then one day I accidentally read a letter, thinking it was another job she was going to send me off to, but apparently someone I worked for had their eye on me and she had promised them me when I turned a certain age. Apparently, she was in debt which is why she did what she did in the first place and giving away me would've made her debt free. She caught me reading the letter and I begged her to let me stay home. I even threatened to tell father, selling me out completely hopefully was where he would've drawn the line," you choked up and swallowed the emotional boulder that landed itself in your throat and continued to ramble on.

"I don't remember what was said but I managed to grab a gun that my father kept. I didn't have the heart to pull the trigger, and she taunted me to the point where I snapped, so, I went further. Lost control and became a beast, ripped her apart and made her so goddamn unrecognizable with a letter opener. There wasn't an inch of me that didn't have blood stained and it felt good," you shuddered at the thought, slightly disgusted at the remembrance of how you felt.

"I washed my hands and got fresh clothes, locked myself in the bathroom. Washed all the blood off, cleaned whatever I stained and waited for my father to come home. I dropped the letter opener down the drain and stuffed my bloody clothes under a loose floorboard that I nailed shut. The screams I heard from him were so distraught, but it didn't break me out of my trance. I sat there waiting until he remembered I was there too. I expected him to blame me, but he just stood there and cried. The Yard came and no one suspected me, we had the funeral and he had basically forgotten I was there at all. We were borderline poor as you might've guessed, Undertaker was the only one to take us. He knew immediately it was me, he taunted me, and I told him I'd do anything for him not to tell and so we had the agreement."

"I lived with my father for a while. He lost all sense of himself, became depressed and damn near mute. He shot himself when I left to do a job one day," you looked at Sebastian to stop your brain from forming a visual memory.

"The Yard tracked me down and told me, well interrogated me, since I was of an age they thought I could definitely commit murder.... That's why I leave when something happens, or I need space. I never want to become that monster again and I never want to treat anyone like that. It's like my mind shuts down and I lose control over what I say and do. No one around, no one can get hurt."

"Don't," you flicked your blade in his direction as he reached out to touch you. Everything came crashing down. The years of suppressing it, the years of running and not giving a damn caught up. Your blade touched his cheek as he ignored your silent plea for isolation and came closer.

"I think I've finally figured you out."

"How disappointing," you muttered.

"Not at all," he whispered, "You're as much a monster as I am," he twirled a few strands of your loose hair between his dainty fingers. His voice was light giving you the impression that you piqued his curiosity further rather than scaring him away.