Violet looked around at the house she was now standing in, the smell of fresh paint stinging her nostrils. 2 bed, 1 bath, small garage, backyard, but most importantly, located in Boston, Massachusetts.

"Did you see the willow in the backyard? It's perfect!" Violet turned her attention to Tate, ear to ear grin plastered to his face, bouncing like a school boy. Violet couldn't help but smile back. They had made it. 3 years of withstanding the horror that was Los Angeles together, and they had finally made it. Boston had their names written all over it, and so far the house did as well, with its enormous weeping willow and porthole windows.

Violet took a deep breath as she grabbed Tate's hand and turned to the mousy realtor.
"We'll take it."

3 months earlier.

"Goddammit, Violet! Why won't you just listen to me for once?"

"That's the thing, Tate. I spend so much time listening to you that I never get a chance to speak! Will you just think of someone other than yourself?" Violet Harmon was at her wits end. She had devoted 3 years to Tate Langdon, given him everything, loving him when no one else did. All she asked for in return was one simple thing, something that they would both benefit from, something they'd both fantasized about since the day they crossed paths: Getting out of L.A. together. Away from the phony people, away from the selfish scum that called themselves their parents, away from a life that was slowly killing them both. Yet now when the dream had finally become reality, Tate was acting like a frightened rabbit.

"I can't..I can't just leave my sister, Violet. She needs me. I can't let her meet the same fate as Beau. She deserves more than that." There was nothing more Tate wanted than to get on a Greyhound with Violet and never look back. Addie was his sister though, and she was the only fucker other than Violet that he didn't want to club to death. He couldn't just leave her hear with The Cocksucker. If Addie was subjected to the torture Beau lived, Tate would never forgive himself. Why couldn't Violet understand this?

"Tate…I know you love your sister, but sometimes you just have to save yourself. You know what I mean?" Violet crossed the room to wrap the blonde in an attentive embrace. She felt his pain, she really did. But she would win, Tate's infatuation always got the better of him, and her demands became law. It didn't occur to her that her pursuits would be met in the worst kind of way.

2 months earlier.

Tate lay in Violet's bed, tracing circles on her arms with his fingers, admiring her body in it's after-sex glow. "Do you have any idea how beautiful-hold that thought", Tate quipped as his phone began to ring. "Fuck it all, only The Cocksucker would be calling this late", he grumbled as he stole a glance at Violet's bedside alarm clock reading 12:34. Violet gave an eye roll from beside him. Constance was forever trying to interrupt on their most intimate of moments.

"What?" Tate snarled as he put the phone to his ear. Violet strained to hear the voice on the other end, catching the irritating drawl that sounded as if it had been doing some serious crying. Violet smirked. That bitch could suffer every day for a million years and it still wouldn't be enough karma for what she had done to Tate and Addie.

"Tate…it's momma…there's been an accident…I need you to come home right away…" a sob ended the sentence.

"An accident? Did Larry cut himself trying to use the scissors?" Tate smirked at his seeming cleverness, but the victory was short lived when the only thing that was heard from the other line was 'Addie'.

The next thing Violet knew, Tate and herself were standing in the Los Angeles County Coroner's office with Constance, Addie's body in front of them covered in a plastic blanket.

Violet found no words to speak as she stared at the corpse of her boyfriend's sister, make-up smeared on her lifeless face. Violet felt a tear slip down her cheek as Tate spoke what Violet had been thinking.
" She just wanted to be a pretty girl."

Tate was horribly sobbing, snot running down his face like an infant. Violet lead him out of the macabre building, leaving Constance behind to cry over the daughter she had treated so horribly in life. Violet took Tate in her arms, kissing the top of his head like a mother tending to her child with a scraped knee.

"It looks like you get what you want now, Violet. We don't have to stay here anymore." Tate said through snivels.

Violet had wanted to leave California, but she'd never wanted it to be this way.

Today.

It had been almost 4 months since Adelaide Langdon's death and Tate was recovering one day at a time. Violet smiled to herself as she watched Tate from the doorway, painting the tops of the kitchen walls a bright red. She loved watching him make the changes to their new house, theirs. She took so much pride in such a little word.
"It's an incredible turn-on watching you be domesticated. Next you should fix the leaky pipes, I want a nice view of your ass." Violet giggled as Tate stepped down from the ladder he was standing on and grabbed her around the waist.

"Oh yeah? I guess that means you'll have to put on an apron and make me some muffins. Just make sure to forego the clothes under the apron."

Violet bit her lip as Tate rubbed his stubbly jaw along her face and neck, breathing in her ear. She leaned in for a kiss, but her lips collided with Tate's paintbrush as he smeared the crimson color over her face.

"TATE!" Violet cried as the paint slid down her cheeks. Man, this was never going to come off. Violet stuck her hands in the paint bucket and rubbed them over Tate's hair, constructing a red Mohawk out of his blonde curls.

"I think that's a good look for you", Violet joked as they appraised each other. They both burst into hysterics at the sight of the other, ending up on the floor in a paint tangled mess, but hands all over each other nonetheless.

"I love you, fiancé." Tate smiled. Shit, did it feel good to say that.

"I love you, fiancé." Violet returned, stealing Tate's words.

For the first time in so long, there was hope. They didn't need a single thing in the world as long as they had each other. They had a long way to go, but this was a start.