I Hate Everything About You

The Morning After

{Sebastian's P.O.V.}

I had to leave as quickly as I could. I remember not wanting to, for oddly uncomfortable reasons. After doing what I did, I would typically feel devoid of any connection; emotions aren't for my kind, as she called us, and if anything I'd revel in another conquest.

This time it infuriated me to know I had to hand her off to the men and women of the church to find and care for. I know this particular place well: a matter I mentioned earlier that I would revisit and discuss.

I'm not allotted that much time, so I'll be succinct.

The priest here is a rarity in modernity. A powerful, strong-willed, unconquerable defender of the faith, specifically of the Catholic Church -though sects everywhere know of his ways- his repertoire speaks for itself. The ends justify the means in his work.

The world knows him as one of, if not the greatest exorcists to ever have served the Light.

I must say, he's good. It was peculiar for me to feel rushed, but it's justified, for if we were to encounter one another here, once more, he'd be one of the few humans to see through me. He did it before, though it was decades ago, when he was young and emboldened by the zeal and self-declared glory of God. I was searching for what I've found now: soul like my master's, and it led me here. The religiously devoted fall the hardest.

So, I had a feeling he'd be the one to find her, and she'd give something about me away. I left a note, and though it wasn't proper to do this as her family's butler, I threw her to the wolves when it came to her condition.

She rolled over in her sleep, after I'd redressed her, leaving the stained coat on her back. I succeeded in making her appear more hurt than she was. She had been in terrible shape, but I fixed most of her injuries. I know it's for a very different reason than what those who'll find her like this are sure to believe, but the way she's lying gives the impression of one truly defeated. It worked in my favour in the end, despite any setbacks. It always does.

The rain cleared up, and the sunlight was bright, glaring and warm. With a final glance behind me as I exit this unfriendly place, I see once again the likeness of my master. I can't say why it affected me the way it did to depart without saying anything to her, but I know it was in part due to the fact they were connected somehow. I remind myself that my aims will bring them together, and I might have two defenceless humans devoted to me for the price of one.

Defenceless is definitely how I left her. Though, I know the exorcist who hates me loves and continues to love any and all of his own kind. I don't share that. I walk alone, and I adore it.

I recall ever word of the letter, for it was a brief one.

To whom it may concern,

This is a friend of mine. I'm employed by a family in the West End, and her brother is someone I helped raise. Her family has suffered from the time she was born due to an illness she bore which had no known cure. Perhaps it is one of the reasons she can love me, and why I'm forced to keep her away.

Nobles don't care about servants, or at least, they're not supposed to, and she's consistently put herself in harms way to prove to me she does. I can't keep my position at her home if she is hellbent on self-destruction.

Her name is Victoria. According to what I understand, she's mad, a lunatic as defined by doctors' records I've somehow been able to locate in the midst of her family's secrets. She's been in institutions her whole life, and I think it's time she finds sanctuary in a benevolently holy one such as this.

She has a pure heart, and I know this place, and the priest who runs it. If it is he who finds this letter, I express my sympathies that he is not a bishop by now, but then again, exorcisms take up most of his time.

Just between us, if it is you, father, she's not as mad as many believe. I'm not exactly devout personally, but I believe in what you do. I've seen what you fight up close and personal, and trust me, she has, too.

Protect her for me, until I can do so in my own right.

Thank you, and may your God keep you both safe. It's essential He does, this time more than even I can say.

Thank you on behalf of my both myself and my household. You understand why I cannot leave my name with you.

I left the paper beside her, ensuring it was conspicuously placed. In spite of everything that happened, she remains a pure, innocent young girl, smiling in her sleep, hatred far from being what soothed her.

I'll have to remind her how to use it if I'm to achieve my ends. Perhaps the farther I get away, the more I'll be able to remind myself of my own hatred as well. I hardly notice the few somewhat startled men and women who pause to stare at me as I move rapidly back to my master's home.

I can't face what's happening to me, yet, or ever, for that matter. It must have been the church. I'm glad to leave it behind.

I wonder, though, if my closing remarks were a little too revealing. It doesn't matter now. I know she'll be fine.

If I couldn't find my master's sister somewhere comfortable to stay, then what kind of butler would I be?