Tate knew they had forever. Violet thought they had only today. In her mind she'd be back in that shit hole they call high school tomorrow, slogging through her classes with nothing but Tate's hands on her mind. Tate felt a twist of guilt when she complained about returning to school. He couldn't bring himself to tell her yet.

Violet deserved to live. She was a good person. But he hadn't been able to save her. That was a pain that sat heavy in his chest and heaved a little when she looked at him sometimes with those trusting doe eyes. As long as she thought she was living he could try to pretend, too. . He could pretend that she was going have the chance to enjoy everything in life she was too scared or cynical right now to admit she wanted. Maybe keeping the secret was selfish. Maybe he was more than a little afraid.

He was afraid that when she knew the truth, that light in her would dim, her quirky take on the world would fade and be replaced by resignation, surrender. He liked her feisty temper, but what if death turned it to true anger – the kind that gnawed at him, threatened to eat him from the inside out? Its fangs were not as sharp with Violet by his side. But that could change. She could develop her own set of fangs. She could become all sharp edges and dark shadows. He lost her once, helpless to only press desperate kisses into her hair. He didn't think he could do it again.

So he tried to keep her busy - playing Scrabble and tossing the ball to Beauregard. And, of course, now there was sex. Violet was eager to learn and Tate was a gentle teacher. When ordinary teenagers were slouching at their desks at Westfield High, two not-so-ordinary teenagers were conducting lessons of their own. Violet's bed was their classroom.

Naked, entwined between the sheets, he delighted in giving Violet pleasure. She'd have to stifle her whimpers as Tate worked the length of his cock in and out of her, slowly, each stroke edging her closer to release. He slipped so easily through her wetness, gliding into her pulsing heat, reaching deeper each time until she threw her head back on the pillow and formed her mouth into a silent "O". He kept his mouth close to her ear to whisper things that made her dig her nails into his skin. "You feel so good inside, Violet." and "What do you want me to do, Vi? Tell me. Let me make you come." He wanted to hear her say the words. He got so hot when she told him to move faster, deeper, yes, right there, right there, Tate, oh.

In bed the snarky, spit-fire Violet was replaced by a curious girl devoted to explore all the sensations a boy could make her feel. He was grateful for every moment she allowed him to touch her. The girls he'd been with in high school were nothing like Violet. They were already jaded, giving out blow jobs like dutiful little sluts. The times he got sucked off by a girl he felt a strange mixture of intense pleasure and intense loneliness. It was strange how a girl's lips could be wrapped around his dick when he felt no connection to her whatsoever. And fucking was about getting something, not giving. Anyway he had nothing to give them, especially since it was nothing he was so desperate to feel. Feeling nothing was better than the anger, the sadness, the loneliness that threatened to swallow him whole. So he numbed it all with drugs and angry music and meaningless sex until he didn't feel sad. He didn't feel anything.

And now, here was Violet. And things he'd long forgotten to even hope for were blooming inside of him. He didn't deserve this chance, yet here she was. And she wanted him. She wanted him.

It was the thing that made him the happiest he'd ever been in his life and afterlife. It was also the thing that made him the most afraid. When she found out the truth – that she was stuck in the murder house for eternity with him – and maybe even because of him – how would she feel then? When she realized that the darkness that so attracted her had sucked her in, would she let it swallow her whole? He wanted so desperately to protect her from that. He didn't want her to be sad.

So he devised a plan.