I Hate Everything About You

Somewhere Comfortable to Stay

{Victoria's P.O.V.}

"A church?" I breathe in deeply.

"An Abbey." Sebastian grins, and I feel sick, this time physically. I've grown accustomed to mental strains. The secret is out, so it seems. He knows. He can see what I am, why my family put me away. I've been in a place like this before, but it was bigger, stately, and cold. A hospital (not a lunatic asylum) was where my father and mother hid me away from the world. I was no danger to myself or anyone else. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if I really am mad at all.

I'm gripping my wrist so strongly with my hand I feel like I'm about to draw blood. "How can you be here? I thought your kind couldn't enter the house of God."

His eyes widen. Is he genuinely surprised or affected by what I say? I doubt it. Still, I've yet to meet a better liar. They do seem truthful, his actions, but then again, that's a demon for you. "A myth." His distant way with me returns. He appears to be pondering an outside, unspoken concept; something else is concerning him. "I've been here before."

I scoff. "You've been here before! Why?" I cross my arms. Blood drips from a small scratch. Sebastian moves closer to me almost at once. He grabs my hand, and I'm too weak to match his strength. He just looks at me, like I'm some sort of rarity, an Etruscan statue in a diplomat's gallery.

"Don't do that." I exhale. I didn't realise I'd been holding my breath. I've been well-versed in how to not do so anymore. Why am I suddenly feeling something new? What is it? I can't tell.

"Do what?" He strokes the palm of my hand with his thumb. I'm bleeding worse than I thought. Maybe I hurt myself when I fell in the rain. He lets me go, and puts his own hand to his lips. He looks like he's enjoying it, my pain. My blood. Evil! I want to kill him. He's the whole reason I've lost my brother. He's stolen the only family I have left, just like he'll one day steal Ciel's soul.

"This." He holds out his arms, and I'm stunned. Is this an illusion, psychosis? I stagger back, terrified. There're red marks all over his sleeves, shining and iridescent even against the black of his clothes. It's as though he's ripped the wings off a butterfly. "You can't expect anything positive to come out of self-harm."

I stand my ground, closing my eyes, and I feel him step forward. I anticipate a harsh response; I've made it clear how much I despise him, that I'd kill him the instant the opportunity arose. Yet, nothing of the sort transpires. In fact, he cups my chin in his hands, and I open my eyes involuntarily, only to see the entirety of his gloves are stained scarlet. Odd. I didn't notice that just moments ago, when he was all but consuming a part of me. I start to panic. Could he be bringing on these visions? I steel myself over. I've known this to happen when I'm extremely stressed. It can't be real. I know that much. I find my voice. "I-I'm not. I didn't! I would never hurt myself when so many outside forces have already done that to me! The world owes me nothing, so I owe myself everything. The only one here who's hurt me is you."

He looks offended. "I'm not lying to you." He starts to take off his gloves with his teeth. Why? It's not the proper way to do it. Does he think it's appealing? I double over- an unexpected burning sensation strikes my lower abdomen- then something else happens. I start to move my hand to my legs. Is there water there? I don't understand what's going on. I'm afraid. It's not a bad feeling. I like it- and though I don't pray much, I look up at the sparkling glass as rainwater gently strikes the sides of the cathedral, as I ask for protection.

Don't let him do this to me.
I don't want to be confused.
Help me hate him.
I've never felt this way before.
What is this?
It's a sin!
It's temptation.
Is it...