{Sebastian's P.O.V}

It's understandable why she wouldn't know what it was, nor how I use it -how anyone uses it- to get what I want. Even so, her response was frustratingly simple, despite the contradictory nature of he remarks.

"I thought you were killing her." I remember what she'd just stated before, and until now, I was more than confused, which I rarely have ever been- haven't been. I can't recall another time like this one, especially not the previous occasion I spent here. I shall speak to that later.

"You just told me you believed I was seducing her. Those concepts are far from equivalent."

She closed her eyes again, which she does frequently. I'm beginning to identify a pattern to her erratics, though it is a subtle one. "I saw you. It didn't look like she liked it!"

I press her further, as her silence is broken; she'll keep talking if I do. "When you threatened me before, you mentioned lust. Do you even know what lust is?"

She keeps turning away from me to look at the altar. I know she's hoping for a miracle, but she won't get one. She swivels back around and her eyes fill with more hatred than ever before. "Of course I do! It's a mortal sin. One of seven. They're deadly."

I want to laugh, truly I do, but I don't. She's serious. I tread lightly, as though compelled. I'd never be so careful in the past. I'd revel in making this girl suffer, mocking her, but I can't. Perhaps it's the atmosphere. Churches do that to humans, reel them in, make them behave as long as they're faced with a portion of God Himself, so why wouldn't it affect me as well? Religious items, holy words and objects don't harm me or compel me to do anything I wouldn't do on my own, which only adds to my internal conflict. I'm not being forced into this.

"Victoria." She likes it when I say her name. I know what her reaction means each time she trembles and clutches her legs tighter together. It's maddening, to see someone innocent act this way. She doesn't even know what I'm doing to her, nor does she know, or can know, what she's doing to me. I almost feel the need to pray myself. That would make me laugh, but all it does is cause me to smirk. Damn. She notices, and it's apparent she thinks it's because of her. Her eyes cloud again. "I'm going to ask you an awkward question, but you'll answer me if you know what's good for you." She inhales and nods. "Do you know how you got here? What led to your...birth...?" This is madness in and of itself. I'm explaining how humans reproduce to a teenager. I feel like her father, or a teacher trying to drum up support for the advocation of abstinence. Clearly I don't want that for her. Why, though? I never enjoy it myself, it's purely for manipulation. She answers me immediately.

"God made me, and I was born. My mother brought me into the world, as with my brother. My father had a role in it. That's all I know."

She seemed to know more when I first encountered her, but she's too obstinate to lie. "You haven't a clue what they did, together, for that to happen, do you?"

She shuts her eyes again. "Are you mocking me? I hate you! Stop it." She opens them, and once more I see the face of my master. "Is this funny to you?"

"No." I lie. It's somewhat entertaining, and I'm disappointed it's not an all out riot. "Do you know what sex is?"

Her eyes widen as she shrinks back into the dark wood of the pew. Her feet kick the folding knee-stand used in times of prayer. She's both afraid and livid with me for mentioning something she's heard of, but doesn't understand. I now know what made her so much angrier than than she'd with me in the past. She's either avoided the concept or not been enlightened on what it entails. Now I hold that privilege. She needs to stop moving away from me. I try to get closer to her and it only causes her to shake more.

"Do you think it's evil, that it's something akin to murder?" She raises her legs and feet towards her, curling into a ball, acting the part of the mere child she is. "That people don't enjoy it?" Still, she pulls away from me. "It's actually quite..." I must choose my next works carefully. I can't risk saying anything that would offend her. I'd never get her to do what I want if I forsake my position here- I still hold my position; I still have the upper hand here. "Pleasurable. Reassuring, for those who desire tangible proof of devotion, a reminder of the affection of others, requited feelings."

"Did you like that woman, then?" She sneers but I can tell she's worried too, if I did. What would that mean? It would weaken my case entirely. "Did you have positive, noble, good feelings for her? If so I don't want any more to do with sex or whatever you call it! I'll go ask a priest to explain it to me."

The concept of this girl going and asking a priest to explain lust to her causes me to feel something which I can't quite categorise. I reply. "No." She scoffs. "But" I defend myself. "I did what you saw to get what I wanted. She didn't dislike it."

"Are you sure about that?" Her breathing is unsteady. She must be confused as well.

"Yes. I am." She moves slightly back to centre. Her feet slide back to the ground. She's listening to me, and I sense an opportunity. If she knows next to nothing about it, what it involves, perhaps she'd be more willing to observe the typical nature of it. "Different people (I can't say "humans" without offending them. The impartiality in this situation precisely would eliminate any feelings of trust, if they were present to begin with) enjoy different things. There are many forms of...love...what interests one might frighten another...preferences are everything within that realm."

She blinks. She's scared, but at the very least it appears she finds some sense in what I'm saying. "Love...that's not the same thing..." her thoughts must be racing. I try to comfort her, steer her in the right direction.

"It can be." She inhales and exhales, nervously. Every part of her quivers. "In fact, that's most people's desire. It's meant to be that way." I reach out a hand, but before I have to do anything else she grabs my collar. I'm stunned. She's made such a point to hate me, but she must want to know. Maybe she's wanted someone to explain this to her for a long time. I can only imagine how patronising the institutions she grew up in could be.

"What do you like, then? What are your preferences? In..." she struggles to say the word. "Sex. Can you show me?"

She doesn't even know what it is. Why else would she ask? She's ignorant in the extreme sense, but that isn't the right way of putting it. She really is innocent. How strange it is for a Phantomhive to be so pure. Still, I would be an absolute lunatic to deny myself this chance. I don't care if she's in the dark about it. It's better that way.

"Of course I can." She smiles at me, like she's won. She's wrong. It is I who has won here*. She'll see soon enough, so it would seem. "Come. Follow me." She stands as I do and grabs my coat, ignoring my offer to take her hand. It doesn't matter. Her hostility only increases my desire to go through with this.

She won't be unstained for very much longer. This is where she's to stay, and I'll inevitably have to return home. I must give her something to remember me by until I can come back to present her with her brother's pardon.

The fact that we're in a church makes it absolutely perfect. I turn once more to face the altar, placing a hand to my heart. My Lord. Watch this. Watch what I can do to what you made.

Victoria Jane Phantomhive will never surrender her soul, but she has other possessions she can offer. Now, I am to take one of those for myself. It's one she can never get back.

Good. I'd like to see her hate me so much after tonight. Whether or not that remark is entirely sarcastic or in earnest is something I can't say, but it doesn't matter.

I know I'm going to enjoy this. That's enough. Hopefully, she will, too. In fact, it's imperative she does. She's got to do what I want her to, and this has worked before.

Perhaps she's not so different after all.

____________________________
[A/N: Nanananannnanaaaaa did you like my lame VERY OBVIOUS UNCREATIVE chapter title? It's not entirely a misnomer (though it kinda is- since it's not actually in this chapter that they, well, ya know...). Next time, though. I gotta go to work to sell Valentine's Day crap to the perpetually thirsty. I'll fix any major issues later.(if there are any- I'm nearly perfect, you see.) nahhh jk jk xD

❤️🌸
~ Britt]

{{A footnote: *I wanted to use 'tis because of the new manga update and it's terrible translations (all extra Victorian-y for some odd reason) but I was like UGH fine. I'll have it be somewhat normal.

But seriously, the new update was like:

Nay
Narry
Tweren't
TWAS I WHO HATH WRONGED THINE FAMILIE
I beseech thee to cleave his head in twain betwixt the olde oak tree

But I GUESS 'it is I' works too.

Enjoy this image of the real perpetrator of Kuroshitsuji:

How dare you do that to the Phantomhives, Mr. Kitty.

{Shameless plug to my other story ~ check out "My Past, My Present and my Future" for more lame jokes/memes regarding both Black Butler and other fandoms I've highlighted in my stories}

Aight over and out.
~ Britt (x2)}}