Ew God she's such a whore

[slashmaster]

“You refuse to listen to me, and it will be your undoing,” she said, striding on my heels, and I bowed my head, ignoring her. But she would not be ignored. She gripped my arm so roughly that pain shot up to my shoulder, and I cried out in alarm, startled and appalled that she would do such a thing to me, her child. “Listen to me. I must tell you this or the wounds and doubts will fester and you will burst and bleed and become something unbearably and horribly ugly and unwanted.”
I said nothing. I was still nursing away at myself, wishing she wouldn’t speak to me in such a tone, missing all of the people of my past, numbed and yet still hungry by the third loss, and the blood was undeniably on my hands. I found it ironic, that I, a vampire, a thing of sensuality and lust and blood, would be so disturbed by the taste of it on my fingertips, and here I was, refusing to look at them, ashamed of them, and the blood was gone.
She shook me. “Lewis. Please. Face me or I fear I shall die, and I swear I will bring you down with me.”
“Dead as I am already,” I mumbled. “Perhaps oblivion is all that I truly seek now, should I assume you do not mean death in your usual twisted way.”
“See me as you will,” she said. “Now look at me.”
I turned my eyes to her but denied her the luxury of an expression on my face.
“I must speak to you about Jared. I know you loved him deeply, as you loved all of them, but – no! Listen to me!”
I was trembling. “I do not want to hear you,” I told her in a low voice. “I will hold his memory pure and clean as it is without the taint of a lying blood stained with my blood.”
“Is his memory so pure after his rape of you?”
“Whatever rape you mean, it is not applied to me.”
“Is it not?”
I wrenched my arm from her grip. Blood spilled down over my forearm where her nails had ripped the skin seamlessly. I didn’t glance twice at it. “Speak clearly or I will leave you again.”
“You will run but you will not get far,” she warned, and I turned to leave, but there she was, glowering at me. “You will listen.”
“Why are you so insistent?”
“It is painful for me to see my own blood suffer, regardless of how much I loathe you.”
I said nothing.
She sighed, raking her fingers through her hair and smearing my blood there. “I know how he watched you drink your first drink – sick, perverse, if anything, and how he drank from you, taking you unawares… A vampire drinking from a vampire! It’s nothing short of nauseating.”
“I loved him,” I said, and my voice was no more than a whisper. “Any pain I endured, any humiliation, no matter how perverse, was of my consent. There was no rape.”
“If you understood, it would be shocking to you.”
“I do not understand, and I am content as such.”
“You care not how he used you, how he struts about at functions, bragging about what a beautiful virgin you were – were, Lewis, were – and how passionate you were, describing in detail your face, the steps, the teenage boy you made love to in all forms –”
“Shut up!” I shouted, stunning myself, stunning her, and she let her hands fall limply to her sides. The hurt and the sharpness of the betrayal turned my insides white-hot with pain, and I was dizzied by it, sickened, blinded, like some dying animal in a trap, which I was. I was devastated, because, though I denied it, I knew every word was true. “Shut up! Just shut up! I will not be poisoned by your lies! I will not!”
I turned to go but there she was again, blocking my way, but her eyes were soft with understanding and sympathy. “He did not feel sorry for leaving you that night,” she told me softly. “When he returned a month later and found you not there, he moved in another virgin and did it again, and there will be no stopping him.”
“I take comfort in his life,” I murmured firmly, but I was horrified to discover that I was lying. I retched dryly and reeled away, staggering down the street, tearing at my heart with the intention to rip it out, and God curse it, should I never love again. I loathed myself for falling into this – this thing torn between what had once been such beautiful love to a sudden and very real hate.
“Lewis!” she called after me, but did not stop me. “One last thing!”
I said nothing. Tears tasted salty on my tongue… like his skin…
“He is your brother as I am a mother shared between you both!”
And I the ground rushed up to meet me, encompassed in blackness and the comforting silence of nothing. I had fainted.

-- I don't know what to think of this.

[Robin]

Ahaha bitch. Poor Lewis.

"know how he watched you drink your first drink – sick, perverse, if anything, and how he drank from you, taking you unawaresâ"

It flows better if it's something like "I know how he watched you drink your first drink, an act sick and perverse if anything, and how he drank from you, taking you unawares..." At least I think so.

" like some dying animal in a trap, which I was."

The 'which I was' is sort of misplaced. It's like 'Jean-Baptiste Maunier sang like some beautiful lark. Which he was. The songs he sang were like beautiful songs of beauty. Which they were.' Except not as bad. It's just sort of awkward.

"soft with understanding and sympathy"

I'd like this better as 'soft and understanding and sympathetic,' but that's just me. It'd work either way.

"moved in another virgin"

In on or in with?