A/N: I really only wrote this because AHS is coming back in nine days and it gave me an opportunity to practice my writing since it's definitely changed a lot. But putting all of that aside, I hope you like it.
The last thing Tate wanted to be doing was thinking about Violet. He just couldn't stop. Violet consumed his mind and he was finding it hard to tell the difference between his love for her and his hatred towards her. It had been ten years since he had last spoken to her and yet, he still wasn't completely over the way she had just let him go, he wasn't over the heartbreak of it all. Granted, he had done some terrible things, but he had also done some decent things in his afterlife as well. He remembered the way her slender fingers fit into his calloused ones perfectly. At night, he would lie in bed thinking about her sweet, lavender scent. It was a painful recollection of all the times they had shared before everything went down the drain and Tate was surrounded by his own pitiful sorrow.
He was lonely. He missed the companionship of other human bodies around him. He didn't have any luck with all of the new people who would move in, Violet and her family would just chase them away. Vivien Harmon was more determined than Tate had ever imagined, and in the long run, Vivien was accomplishing what she had set out for; to make Tate's after life, hell. He didn't blame her of course, he ruined her life. He basically killed her. He had put that baby in her, a baby that should have never been able to survive, and now Vivien was the one dealing with the consequences. People had always told him that he was a monster, and it wasn't until the Harmon's tragic deaths that he finally realized what everyone had been telling him for years was actually beyond true.
Today, another family was moving in and Tate was expecting the worst. He didn't know how long they would last. He guessed a day or two, which usually seemed like the average amount of time a family would stay in murder house. It wasn't hard for the Harmon family to scare people away, they had become quite artsy with it, it had become a game to them. Poor Marcy, she was stuck with this house as bad as Tate was. Now, at four in the morning, while it was still dark out, Tate sat in his old bedroom, looking out the window as workers moved furniture from the moving van to the front porch where they would disappear into the house. He sat there silently, watching them go back and forth until they had finished and cleared out. It struck Tate as odd how things could suddenly go from eerily silent to hectically loud back to silent all in the matter of a few hours. It was something Tate thought about a lot. That's all he could ever do lately was think, he never really had anyone to talk to and it was times like these where everyone in the house was asleep and the sun was just coming up that Tate did most of his thinking. It was times like these where his thoughts could very well be his own downfall.
There was a noise all of sudden from behind Tate which caused him to jolt upright and turn around to face whatever or whoever made the noise. To Tate's surprised, it was Hayden standing over a smashed lamp. "The sulking and moaning and all around gloominess of your life is pathetic, Tate." He glared at her, with a look of disgust. Hayden was the only person in the house that Tate hated almost as much as he hated himself. He took in her appearance. Lately, she had been walking around the house in barely any clothes at all. She had gone back to trying to get Ben's attention, which she often did at least once a month. Now, she was standing in the corner, with a tight, black dress on that was too short for her own good and barely covered any of her thigh. The neckline plunged, exposing enough cleavage that Tate had to turn his head and look in the opposite direction.
"What do you want Hayden?" Tate asked her, displeasure and annoyance dripping from his voice. She was so irritating at times he couldn't stand it. Over the years they had killed each other on multiple occasions but of course, they were never really gone, after all, you can't kill someone who's already dead.
Hayden strolled over to Tate's side and put a hand on his chest. "I think you know exactly what I want from you Tate." She said to him, her voice husky and low. Her hand gradually slid down his chest until she rested it on his buckle. Tate sighed, he was so sick of this. She always advanced on him when Ben had rejected her. She had pulled this on him multiple times and Tate couldn't deny the fact that there were times when it had worked. She was so good at tangling him up in her web and it made Tate so frustrated with not just Hayden, but also himself. The moments when Tate was at his lowest points was when Hayden came in and managed to physically entrap him. After all, he was stuck in a teenager's body, sometimes he couldn't help it. But now, Hayden's advances were only making him irritated. He roughly pushed her hands off of him.
"Leave me alone Hayden. I'm not in the mood." Her eyebrows rose in shock, but Tate was happy to see her hands drop and rest at her side. He didn't have time for her right now; he never had time to put up with Hayden's bullshit. She was good at making him feel pathetic, and that was about it. He pushed past her and started walking out of the room but not before Hayden got a word in.
"I've seen the new family who bought the house. They came for a tour and they should be moving in soon." She paused and locked eyes with Tate. "They're not like the others, Tate. They won't be scared off so easily." Tate glared at her one more time and then turned on his heel and exited the room without another word. He didn't care about the new family moving in. He didn't care about anything. Anything at all.
Tate's nightmares were the same as always. Violet was always in his dreams and she was always leaving him someway or another. Sometimes they would be in bed together and she would just completely disappear, while other times, she would only have to look at him and that would be enough for her to scream and slit her throat but in his dreams, she would never wake. He would hold her in his arms, her blood soaking through his shirt, and she would be gone.
Tate slowly got up from bed and made his way over to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and the first thing he noticed was the distinct bags under his eyes. He sighed, he was sleeping less and less these days, and it was starting to become noticeable. He ran a hand through his blonde curls, not bothering to brush it out and then threw a red t-shirt on. He walked over to the window then, and saw a new car that must have belonged to the new owners of the house. He then jolted out of the room, almost managed to knock over Patrick, who swore at him and then reached the kitchen where his mother was talking to a women. His mother acknowledged his presence with a nod but he ignored her, studying the woman who was making conversation with Constance. She had dark black hair, that fell down in waves over her chest and the man who walked in from behind her had more of a chestnut color to his hair and a stronger build. He watched as the couple conversed with Constance and Moira who kept giving him side glances out of the corner of her eye. So he left. They didn't seem interesting one bit, so whatever Hayden had said the previous night had left his mind just as soon as it had gotten in there. He decided to go up to the attack and play with Beau. Afterwards he went down into the basement and checked on Nora. He never really did anything out of the ordinary anymore, his days were rather dreary and the only thing that entertained him in the slightest was watching the Harman's chase away the residents. It was like any other day, except Tate had no idea how wrong he was.
Tate walked up the steps slowly to his bedroom but he wasn't expecting what was waiting for him. The lights were off but candles were all over the place, giving the space light. There was a large circle of candles and in the middle of the circle, was a girl who didn't look much older than Tate. She was sitting, her legs crossed, reading a book. You could tell that she was the daughter of the women down stairs because of the straight black hair, except the only difference was that the ends of the young girl's hair was dyed a dark purple. She had deep brown eyes that were almost black. When Tate had walked into the room, the girl's eyes glanced up from the book and in Tate's direction. He gulped. Sometimes, even after years, he would forget that people actually couldn't see him if he didn't want them too. Then she spoke, and all of Tate's thoughts were completely washed away.
"I know you're in here." The girl said. Tate's eyes widened. There was no way, no way she could see him. "I can sense you. You smell like soap and sweat." Instinctively, Tate lifted his arm up and took a whiff of himself. She wasn't wrong. He took a step backward right when she stepped forward. He didn't know what to do with himself. "Now, the question is… Who are you?" Tate's mind was going crazy. He could barely stay on his feet any longer. She couldn't see him, at least he knew that. But no one could ever sense Tate. It had never happened before. Not even Violent, when she was alive, could sense him when he was invisible.
The girl took a deep, shaky breath. She brought her hand up to her hair and stuck a strand of it behind her ear. Then she looked directly at Tate. It was nauseating and it caused him to lose his balance. His hand reached for something to hold but there was nothing and he flew back, knocking down a few candles. The girl laughed "I've heard a lot about the people in this house. I wonder, are you one of the Harmon's? Or maybe you're Nora or even Maria. You could also be one of the homos." She took a step forward and bent down, looking right into his eyes. "Or are you the kid who set his mom's boyfriend on fire. Who shot and killed fifteen kids at Westfield High. The one everyone talks about. The one who raped Vivien Harmon while he was dating her daughter. I've actually met that child she gave birth to, he almost killed me. Constance had to lock him up. It was some scary shit."
Tate gasped. There was no way this girl could know all of that. And yet she did. She knew everything. Right down to the nitty gritty details. The girl laughed, which sent a chill up his spine. "You can come out, Tate." His eyes widened, and he got right up, faster than he imagined possible. How did she know it was him? How was that even possible? "If you let me see you, I'll tell you everything you want to know." Tate looked at her. He didn't know how it was possible, but she was looking right back at him. He took in her appearance once again. She had pale skin that clashed with her dark hair, but still managed to look kind of… nice. She was skinny too. The type of girl who would look good on Vogue magazine covers because of her lack of curves. She wasn't wearing a lot of clothing either. Short, plaid shorts that exposed her thighs and a white see through tank top. Before Tate could stop himself, he was already thinking up scenarios in his mind of himself and the nameless girl. He couldn't help it. The only one who was willing around the house was Hayden, and he refused her for his own reasons. He could tell the girl was growing impatient. She was tapping her foot against the floor with her hands on her hips. After a while of that, she let out an exasperated breath and plopped herself on the bed. Her back against the sheets and her eyes up towards the ceiling. It grew silent then and Tate was having a debate inside his head. A part of him was telling himself not to let the girl see him, that it would be a bad idea, that he should just leave now before something terrible happened. But the other part of his brain was questioning what would be so bad about letting her see. She already knew it was Tate. And for some reason, Tate found her… intriguing. She was definitely a sight for sore eyes, she was beyond good looking but it wasn't just that. It was the way she looked at Tate. She knew all of the terrible things he had done to people and yet, she wasn't scared, or disgusted like she should have been. Instead, the look in her eyes was a type of determination. They were bright with light and wonder and that was why Tate chose the latter of the situation.
As he stood above her, in a kind of awkward position, her eyes shot open and the first thing she did was smile. She slowly got up into a sitting position and moved over on the bed, summoning Tate to her side. He slowly sat next to her, being extra cautious. He had no idea what this girl was capable of. "I'm Paige." She said, sticking out her hand. Tate didn't move, he didn't look at her; he just sat there with his fingers looped together. He heard her exhale sharply and then he felt a pair of cold fingers against his cheek. She slowly guided his face to the side, forcing him to look at her straight in the eyes. "I was right, wasn't I? You're Tate."
"How did you know that?" He asked her. Dying to get some answers. She was mysterious and Tate hated it. He hated not knowing people, what they were like, what they were capable of accomplishing. He didn't like things to be a mystery, even though some people could argue that he was one himself.
She laughed; a silent laugh that shook her body. "I didn't know. I just guessed it was you." She let go of him and put her hands in her lap. Tate glanced down at her. She was beating around the bush and he needed answers. He was sick and tired of being confused all because of a girl who he had only just met.
"I need answers." He told her. His gaze firm. "Now." She looked at him and sighed.
"Well, I guess I should just tell you now that me and my parents, well, we're not exactly like normal people. We do this for a living." Tate cut her off.
"Do what for a living?" He asked. She rolled her eyes at him before speaking.
"Do you want me to tell you the story or not?" She asked him. His lack of response answered her question and she continued. "My family has invested themselves in murder house for years now. Ever since the Harmon's died we've been saving up to move in. My parents are kind of obsessed with the idea. I only know everything about this house and everyone in it because I've done my research. I've talked to people who knew you at one point in their lives. We know everything about this house. Every little detail that you can ever imagine. All of the secrets aren't secrets, not anymore."
Tate took this into consideration. It all made sense now, well at least he had a general idea but it was still strange, to say the least. "So, you know… everything?" He asked her. The idea of this girl, who Tate had only just met, who knew all of his secrets, was intimidating. She could hold anything against him. She had complete power in the palm of her hands over him and she didn't even seem to be fazed by that. She nodded in response. Tate took a deep breath and then exhaled loudly. The whole situation was strange.
"So." She started, moving around so she was lying on her stomach with her hands beneath her chin. Her eyes had a sparkle in them, it was strange the way she looked at him, it was like she had hope for him. "What about you and Violet, have you seen her lately?" She asked, her eyebrows raised. The image of Violet rushed into Tate's mind. He couldn't tell her that he was trying so hard not to think about Violet. So he avoided the question and focused on Paige. He noticed the way she would bite her nails before asking him questions, and when he looked closely he could tell it was a probably a bad habit, considering her nails were bitten down to nubs.
"Why do you bite your nails?" Tate asked, trying so desperately to avoid answering the question at hand. This girl before him, she shouldn't know what she does. She should be running away from him, calling him a monster, like everyone else.
"You're avoiding the question." She said, with a smirk on her face. Tate rolled his eyes. He was just so conflicted and Paige was staring at him, which made the situation even worse. He took a deep breath. He decided he would tell her. Besides, he had complete faith in the Harmon family. These people may be experts on the house, but they had no idea what they were getting themselves into.
"Alright fine." Tate let out a deep breath, trying to form the right words into his mind. "Sometimes, I'll get glimpses of her but she avoids me. Some nights, I really think that i'm going to be okay. Then there are other nights where I sit in this bedroom and cry my self to sleep. There are moments when I think about her so much that it gets hard to breathe but I just sit here, suffocating because she's gone and it's my fault. It's all my fault and there's nothing I can possibly do about it."
He didn't realize it until after he had left Paige's room, after she had comforted him and insisted that everything was going to be okay; just how relieved he felt after telling her all of that. For the past ten years, Tate had been alone with his thoughts. But now, he had Paige and he wasn't about to let the Harmon's ruin that for him.
The next morning, after playing with Beau, Tate went straight to Ben's office. Lately, Ben had been making himself visible to everyone in the house, including Tate. But when Tate would try to talk to him, Ben would shut him out completely. This time though, it was different. Tate had motives this time around. When he walked into the familiar office, the first thing he did was knock over the picture of Ben, Violet, and Vivien. It fell from the mantle and hit the ground, shattering it into pieces. Tate mostly did it out of anger, hoping to get a reaction from Ben, but he didn't budge. Ben just stared right through Tate, like he was invisible. Tate let out a shaky breath before speaking, "Listen Ben, I think we need to discuss how you keep scaring off the residents of the house. It's become exhausting, don't you think?" Just as Tate was expecting, Ben didn't respond which really flipped a switch in Tate. He started yelling profanities at Ben and breaking everything in the office. Tate didn't stop until Moira had sauntered into the office and shooed Tate out, yelling at him about what a mess he had made of everything. Tate didn't know when he had started crying but when he left the office and brought his hands up to his face, there was definitely tears there. He started running to Paige's room, desperately trying to get to her for reasons that Tate couldn't really understand himself. When he got to her room, out of breath he wasn't expecting to see Violet there, in mid conversation with Paige. She disappeared quicker than Tate could comprehend. "What did she say to you?" He asked Paige, walking into the room, a wild look across his features. "WHAT DO YOU WANT VIOLET?" Tate yelled, knowing that she would hear him.
Paige plopped herself down onto the bed and beckoned for Tate to sit next to her. He was still crying, even harder now that he had seen Violet. When he sat down next to Paige, she put her arms around him and held him; gently shushing him like a mother would do with her child. They didn't speak. It was just silent; the only sound was Tate's sobs that echoed through the room. It took him a while to come down but eventually his sobs turned into quieter sniffles and Paige was still holding him in his arms. He clutched onto her, afraid that if he let go she would disappear like Violet had. "She just told me everything that I already knew." Paige said, breaking the silence. Tate let out a breath. He understood what Violet was doing here. She was trying to convince Paige that he was a monster, that Tate would just form a web of lies and tangle her in them, like he had done with Violet.
"So, why are you still here?" Tate asked, sucking in his breath. "Why haven't you run away in fear like the rest of them?"
"Because." Paige began, wiping away the tears from underneath Tate's eyes. "I think you've got a lot of issues for someone who doesn't even live in the actual world anymore. I think that when you were alive, people got the best of you. The world took you and changed you into this person who looked at everything as an enemy. When you died in this house, you were suddenly its toy. You want to do things for people, to make them happy, but in the end, you are the one who has to deal with the consequences and losing Violet was one of them." Paige looked at Tate, knowing that there was nothing she could ever do or say to make him believe that she respected him. Paige knew that Tate wasn't a good person, but she also believed there was a little bit of humanity left in him and if she could just let him see that, then he wouldn't be so hostile anymore. "I think that you believe you're a monster and the things you've done doesn't help you're case but Tate, when you believe that you are something then you become it." Tate couldn't help it. He cried, he cried until there were no tears left and what was worse about the whole thing was that Paige was there the whole time, just holding him and not saying one word.
Eventually Tate had fallen asleep and Paige had no idea what to do with herself. She moved Tate around so he was lying on his back with a pillow supporting his head. She went over to the mirror and examined her reflection. Her shirt was damp in spots because of Tate's tears and overall, she looked really frazzled. Like the way one might look after they had slept with someone. She rolled her eyes. She had spent half of her life looking in the mirror. Paige knew she was far from perfect and her reflection proved that. Yet, whenever Paige passed a mirror, she couldn't resist. It was another one of her many bad habits. In the corner of the mirror she could see Tate, sleeping on the bed with his head slightly tilted upwards. It was the first time Paige had really looked at him. Sometimes she would only look at pieces of him. She would look into his dark eyes, or examine his golden hair and get that urge she usually got around boys with nice hair, that feeling to just run her fingers through it. But now, she was looking at him as a whole. As a human. Not as a ghost, or monster, or psychopath or any of the other things that Tate was but as a human being and she knew that she shouldn't have been looking at him like that. While she was examining Tate through the mirror out of the corner of her eye she saw movement and knew exactly who it could have been. "Hello again." Paige said, her usual arrogant smirk slapped across her features. "Come back to tell me how I need to stay away from Tate, that he'll corrupt me." She turned around to actually face Violet and was once again shocked by the girl's appearance. Her blonde hair fell over her eyes and down to her shoulders, her big dark eyes burned into Paige's and for some strange reason, something that Paige really had no control over, she felt intimidated by this girl.
"Obviously, I can't say anything for you to change your mind about this place, about him." She looked over at Tate who was sleeping peacefully on the bed then redirected her eyes over towards Paige. "My parents already have everything planned. You'll be out of here by sunrise. Just like the rest of them."
"I don't think you understand." Paige brought a hand up to her temple and rubbed the spot, trying to relieve herself. No one in this house understands. "My parent's do this for a living. They invest in something that seems to have some sort of spiritual power and they throw themselves into it. Just because some dead people are going to try and scare away the little old family who just moved in doesn't mean that my parents are going to run away crying, wishing they had never bought the house. No, Violet, we moved in here for a reason. My parents have a whole theory about why you're all stuck here and they plan on testing it and figuring out how to channel the house's power. There is nothing that you or your family can do about it." Paige took a deep breath, hoping that Violet would understand and leave her alone. It wasn't hard for Tate to get the idea, and he barely knew half the story.
Violet looked confused, like she hadn't' heard anything like it and she probably hadn't. Paige's family wasn't normal; people at school called her the "ghost whisperer" because of her family's background. "But what about Tate. You can't fall in love with him Paige, he's done horrible things, and you have no idea what he's capable of."
Paige was getting a little annoyed at the girl's determination. "Listen. I'm not going to steal your boyfriend. I know what he's done to you Violet, I know everything." She gave the girl a look, hoping that she would understand.
"You can't possibly know every-"
Paige cut her off. "Don't forget who my family is." Paige exhaled, thinking of a way to really end the conversation so that Violet wouldn't have to worry about her. "I know you don't love him anymore, I mean who would really. He's done things that are unforgivable and plain disgusting. He's sweet, charming, and attractive, he's the worst kind. I've only known him for a short time and I've figured that out. But the thing is Violet; he's only going to get worse. You think that staying away from him is going to solve everything but it won't. You've basically been slowly driving him crazier and crazier over the years. I think that's why he needs me. He needs someone human, someone who can show him the little bit of humanity that's left in him, and I want to be the one to do that."
"It's too dangerous to be around him, he'll-"
Paige put a hand up to stop Violet from continuing her sentence. "I'm the type of person who likes to take people, the craziest, messed up, broken people that you've ever seen and help them. I want to mend him and I can only do that if he lets me in and that's why I need you to stay away from him Violet. Don't let him see you, don't even give him glimpses. He needs a friend. A proper friend who will talk to him and let him cry on their shoulder and I want to do that." Violet didn't say a word. She just simply nodded and walked away, out into the hallway to go wherever she would usually go. Paige let out a deep breath. She wasn't expecting to get all emotional with the girl; she just wanted to be left alone. Before Paige could even comprehend what was going on, she heard a scream. She didn't give Tate a second glance before she sprinted out of the room and down to the kitchen where she thought the scream had come from.
There was blood everywhere. On the walls, the stairwell, the carpet. It looked like someone had taken a blood bag, opened it up and decorated the house with it. Paige's mother and father were sitting at the kitchen table, giggling quietly as they took notes of Vivien and Ben Harmon who were standing in front of the two, one with a gun and the other with what looked like some sort of organ.
"What are you doing?" Paige asked, not really to anyone specifically. Her mother turned towards Paige and smiled.
"Oh hunny, just go back upstairs. They're just trying to freak us out." Paige looked over at Ben and Vivien who just looked confused.
"This house is going to make you go crazy." Ben said to Paige, obviously going for the last attempt to convince someone in the family that they should leave and never come back.
"You should just give up now." Paige told him, before turning right around and crashing into Tate.
"I heard screams." He said, after he had caught Paige by the elbows. He held her there looking straight at her.
Paige chuckled. "It's nothing. Just an unsuccessful attempt to try and run us out."
Tate looked at Paige and then at Vivien and Ben and then back at Paige. "So you're not going to leave?" He asked. Paige didn't answer instead she walked around him and up the stairs, Tate gladly followed in her suit. "I'm confused." He stated, when he finally caught up and was walking at a rather speedy pace along side the girl. "Usually, the Harmon's always are successful at what they do. What did they do wrong?"
Paige stopped in her tracks, getting more annoyed at the ghosts in the house by the minute. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you people. My family isn't normal. Let's just leave it at that." Tate shrugged but didn't pursue her. It was something Paige liked about him. No matter what was going on, if Paige didn't want to talk about something then Tate wouldn't push her. Instead he followed her into his room and they went back to playing Scrabble and Yahtzee like they had the night before.
"I made the word Scrabble; don't I get some extra points for that?" They had been talking, playing board games and ignoring Ben and Vivien's attempts to scare them away for the last day now. Eventually, the attempts started to become less and less frequent due to the fact Vivien had to tend to the baby most of the time. Paige pushed the board game away from her, giving Tate the idea that she wasn't interested in it anymore.
"You win." Paige said, lying on her back and looking up at the ceiling. Something that she always liked to do when she was thinking.
"What are you thinking about?" Tate asked her, moving beside her and mimicking her position.
"I'm thinking about how lonely people must be here. Trapped inside these walls. Especially since half of you hate each other. Then there are the people who basically hate themselves. Doesn't it just drive you insane?" Paige had been coming up with these types of things since the afternoon and now it was almost three in the morning. Everyone was sleeping, or hiding away somewhere and Tate and Paige were left alone in their room, practically forced to really reflect on there lives. Paige was the kind of person who would ask a question and not take no for an answer even if Tate tried his best to avoid it, and this time he didn't.
"I have Beau." He responded. "Everybody around here loves him. You know, he's never done anything wrong. He's never cheated, lied, or killed anyone. He's pure. And he was killed because he didn't look like the rest of us. He didn't look perfect. But on the inside, he's so flawless that he makes Dorothy Gale look evil."
Paige's chest burned. She couldn't comprehend how someone like Tate, so cruel could say something so meaningful about his own brother. Maybe it was the fact that Paige had never had any siblings, but it made her heart ache. Tate turned his head so that he was looking right at Paige, but she just continued to stare up at the ceiling. Tate searched in her eyes. He could see the pain and hurt in them, like it was an actual physical thing. "I think I need you, Paige. I think you're the person that I've been waiting for."
She turned her head so she was looking right at Tate and started to silently cry. It was the type of crying where only tears ran down your cheeks. Tate didn't know what to do. It wasn't the first time he had been around this girl and had no idea what he was in for, but right now he thought he understood. Hearing himself say those words was like a mantra and he kept hearing it in his own mind.
I think I need you
He never really was dependant on anyone before, but with her, everything was different. It felt like he had stopped breathing and when he looked into her eyes, the ones that were so brown and dark and deep he couldn't stop. He ran a finger along her jaw line, never leaving her gaze and then he kissed her. It was slow and sweet and gentle and it tasted like her tears that never seemed to stop. She didn't move, only allowed him to lift her chin upward for him to make the kiss deeper. He couldn't think properly. He didn't know why he was kissing her; he only knew that the moment before he did it, he had never wanted anything so bad. He kissed her slowly, so slowly that it was almost painful for him. He had never cared so much about something, Paige was fragile and he was treating her as if he did one little thing wrong she would shatter all around him. It was a long kiss, not rough or exciting but calm and collected. It gave him time to enjoy her mouth and the smell of her strawberry shampoo, and the feel of her soft skin against his fingertips. They eventually slowly drew apart from each other and she smiled up at him before leaning her forehead against his shoulder.
After a while of silence, they went back to lying next to each other, gazing up at the ceiling, but this time with their hands intertwined.
"You know, I can't love you Tate." Paige said, biting her lip. She had kissed him, she had done everything in the world to make him believe that he was worthy of her. So she was expecting him to jump up from bed and leave the room, not saying another word.
"I know." Was all he said in response. It was all he needed to say to her, he knew that. It wasn't complicated to understand.
"But I'm going to help you Tate because you were right, you need me and I need you too." Her lips curved upwards into a small smile and Tate knew that maybe things would get better. He was still a monster, but as time went on Tate realized that it was the first time he had been with someone where he wasn't thinking about Violet, it was the first time where all of his mistakes had left his mind, all of his guilt was washed away, even if it was only for a short time, even if it was only for a kiss.
He realized that he had never felt this way. He felt whole. He felt infinite.