Disclaimer: I do not own any American Horror Story characters or plot lines, if I did, Tate would be alive and Evan Peters would have fewer clothes…
AN: I had this idea as I walked down the street and a cockroach passed my way, I panicked, obviously and for someone that doesn't get scared easily, bugs sure freak the fuck out of me!
Tate leaned on the kitchen door frame as he silently watched Violet heath up some left over lasagna for lunch. It was Saturday and Vivien was away at the doctor's, leaving her teenage daughter home alone (Well, not that you could really be home alone at Murder House). He watched intently as the girl he loved hummed quietly to herself over the song playing on her iPod, unaware of the fact that she had an audience.
He was hypnotized by the way the midday sun latched and reflected on her apple blonde hair and her weightless movements as she twirled around the kitchen in her own little bubble.
Unfortunately, the lovely bubble busted open as she spotted a cockroach swiftly run across the floor. For the first time in what felt like forever, the terror sized Violet and she let out an ear splitting scream.
Tate grinned and quickly moved to squash the disgusting insect with the full stomp of his worn out left black Converse shoe. He looked up at Violet and noticed she wasn't even surprised at his presence so he decided to play with her for a second.
"So let me get this straight," he smirked, "murdering psychos trying to kill you aren't a problem" he counted one with his fingers, "monsters crawling around the house don't face you," he added a finger, "cheating fathers and dead babies don't bother you all that much," another finger "and the ghost of long lost souls inhabiting your house don't keep you up at night," he said, a smug smirk gracing his handsome face "but a tiny roach has you screaming?" he finished.
Violet knew she could not defend her reaction; it had been silly, considering the much more terrifying things that could happen in that house. She was caught and she knew it, so she opted for keeping quiet, having no snarky comment or come back to make. Tate smirked again. He had finally rendered her speechless.
"You know, I think I deserve a kiss for saving you from that horrid beast" he said, that ever-present smirk still plastered on his face as his hands found their way to her hips. If only he knew the things that smirk and those hands did to her.
"Oh, shut up!" she said, reaching up on her tip toes to press her lips to his. She was going to kiss him anyway, whether he had killed the insect or not.
In her eyes, he was her hero, her protector, the one to do anything to make sure she was alright, even if that meant slay maniacs, shove his fingers down her throat or simply stomp on a roach because she feared them like a little girl. Because in his eyes, she was his little girl, and he would stop at nothing to make sure she was safe.
Hope you guys enjoyed that little drabble. Don't forget to review! Infantata doesn't mess with people who review =P