Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
Pairing: Tate/Violet (american horror story)
Rating: M
AN: All mistakes are mine, correct them with no fear.
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own American Horror Story, if I did poor Tate would suffer, more.
Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
"Don't you think we oughta know by now?
Don't you think we should have learned somehow?"
(John Mayer)
You're kissing her again. Her soft lips on yours; it's the best feeling on Earth. You hate her, God, you do. But when her lips met yours, it's a explosion of feelings inside you, and none of them is a bad one. She smiles. You want to kill her and you want to make love with her. You want to feel that wave of pleasure running through her body and you want her screaming your name.
Her hands are in your curly blond hair, making it even more messy than usual but you don't care. She's kissing you with passion, with hate and with… Saudade. That word she used to describe how she was feeling when he was not there. You don't really understand it's meaning. It's some portuguese word she learned in a book, you just like the sound of it in her voice. You're ready to take her clothes off, her smile grows bigger.
"Go away" she says with shining eyes. Revenge is a bitch, you think. You go because you can't stay when she tells you to go. You feel idiot and you hate her even more. But you wait until she calls you. And you can kiss her again.
The End.
