All My Loving

AN: Been wanting to write a Violate fic, just never had the time. It's three chapters long. _ anyways, enjoy. Obviously I don't own these characters, or else they so would've been together at the end of the show.

Chapter One: Strawberry Fields Forever

Summary: The last owners of the house left behind a gift that's in Tate's favor and helps Violet see what she was blind to. Two teens and a bag of goodies, what more needs to be said? The Beatles. Boom.

…

Living is easy with eyes closed,
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone
But it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me…

No one could really tell how many years it had been since my family and I permanently moved in. I honestly stopped caring after the third family that attempted to settle. What a fucking joke. Day and night I watch the world from outside my window, hoping that my Romeo would come and take me away from this shitty written Shakespearean play.

Except my Romeo can't come save me, not that he won't, I won't let him. I've begun to wonder who's more fucked up, me or him? The two people, who I fought for, have done what I couldn't, let bygones be bygones. My life is worse than a crappy teen book, like twilight. My beast is my lover, his lover is his beast. If we could even call each other that, lovers…

I felt my mouth snicker at the thought of such a bizarre concept. The smoke singed my throat as I inhaled too deeply. How shitty can this get? Can't even float like Casper. There should've been a list when I died that I could've chosen which afterlife I would prefer, a bloodsucking vampire or a brain lusting zombie.

At least if I was a vamp, I could venture out of this crap coffin. I would give my days up for nights at any given time. Less people I'd have to deal with. I'd be away from this house, my parents, and… him.

…

Violet's hand shook as her pen fell from her fingertips. Puffing the remainder of her cig, she slammed her journal and threw at the makeup stand that found its way back into the room.

She knew she could never speak his name, think it, not even write it. Brushing away her weak tears, the young Harmon made her way to her speakers and blared one of her playlists until she couldn't hear her own thoughts.

Thoughts in the color blonde. Thoughts in the shape of onyx eyes that saw all the sins you carried. Thoughts of chapped lips that were tender to the touch. Thoughts off… Tate Langdon.

Desperately, Violet raged war within herself to forget of his existence. Forget how they first met. Forget how his arms felt around her. Forget how his lips tasted. Forget how she gave him her innocence. Running her fingers through her hair, Violet went over to her stand to find a hair tie to keep her from ripping out her soft hair. Catching herself looking at her reflection, she couldn't realize how soft she looked. Soft skin, hair, features. Maybe if she held off on swallowing those pills a little longer she might've developed more in places she wish her mother passed onto her.

The tugging of her frown made her forget what she was looking for in the first place. Plopping down on the chair, Violet sighed in defeat. She wondered if this is how she was meant to spend the rest of her afterlife. Sitting In her room, mopping around like some depressed teen. Oh right, she was depressed and a teen. Forever.

Pulling out a familiar tool from one of the drawers, Violet pressed the cold blade to the inner flesh of her thigh. It's nearly been a year or so since the last time she attempted cutting. The past previous time she tried, she felt a reprimanding gaze melting a hole into her back. Nothing was holding her back this time, or ever.

A jolt of electricity shot through her spine when the tip of the blade nipped her skin. It still wasn't enough. Pushing a little deeper, the girl bit her lip in pleasure. Just as fast as the excitement came, it was gone.

"I'm not letting you break your promise, even if it breaks me," a familiar voice whispered against her neck.

Violet tried not to open her eyes to confirm if she was hallucinating or not. The pressure of strong hands removing the weapon from her while the other pressing into the wound was enough for Violet to feel fulfilled. She could feel his chest slightly against her back and his scent infiltrated her senses. Slowly looking into the mirror, Violet matched the face to the presence behind her. The flood of memories that Tate and her had created had forced her heart to violently beat in an irregular fashion.

Despite all that he had done to her and her family, she needed more of him. Turning around to face her angelic monster, Violet was let down to see that there was nothing but air to greet her. The sound of the blade hitting against the wooden floor caught her attention.

Breaking her gaze from where the ghost boy stood only moment ago, Violet reached down to pick up he piece of metal, and her journal, that she had yet to pick up. A board had shifted from the impact of her journal that had caught the girl's attention.

Her curiosity ate away the incident that had just occurred; forcing the girl to reach in between the boards that hid a secret cubby she never knew existed. When she felt her hand claim a prize, she recoiled her arm to pull up a small zip lock bag. The contents were what made Violet's brows twitch in a secret praise to the previous owners.

She knew there was no way in hell that the people who lived her last left the murder house high and dry. They were middle-aged hippies that had fallen into a small fortune and spent the last of their money investing into the cursed house and crazy drugs. The girl searched the place for weeks once they left and came up with nothing.

Violet unzipped the baggie full of goodies, and took out a single pill that had a sunshine stamped on it. Hiding the rest of her goods back in her new hiding spot, Violet swallowed her pill and switched her playlist to something more down to Earth.

…

How could I've been so reckless! My fists slammed against the basement walls, tearing into my fists and welcoming my blood to the surface. I just couldn't watch her mutilate herself believing no one cared. I care, and always will.

This time was different though. She didn't scream at me, tell me those hateful words, or worse, disappear before my eyes so I couldn't even see her. My back dragged down the cement walls as I began to tear at my scalp.

I'll never give her up. She took whatever remained of me and locked it away in her. Away in the parts of her she won't even dare to venture towards anymore. Violet, my Violet, is letting herself waste away in the darkness, letting it entwine her, touch her, love her. Four or maybe seven years it's been since the first time she sent me away.

The only other times I was able to get close to her, feel her, was when she breached her only promise to me. It's been enough though. But I'm unsure for how much longer I can do this. Even the fake smiles she gives the other members is enough to believe in hope. If she'd only she'd grace me with one deathly glance of hers.

Tonight seemed different though. She didn't fight me, scream at me, she looked at me. Not through, but at.

…

The forever young blonde stood up, shaking his head at the thought of tonight's encounter. It may have been short but it was the most intimate he had been with the girl his black heart belonged to. The way her hair was scrunched, how her shorts hung loosely on her slender legs. Oh her legs. He was able to caress her, hold her, breathe her. The image of her dark, crimson blood stark against her porcelain skin made Tate's blood boil.

Looking at his hand, he could still see traces of dried blood. Violet's blood. His tongue flicked against the dried red salt. The taste of her in his mouth created a low moan in the back of his throat. He knew this was sick, he was sick. But he honestly couldn't help himself. Anything that belonged to Violet made him want to consume it all.

All the other housemates were still at the wee hours of the morning. But not Tate or the girl locked away in her tower, of her own doing.

Tate's head turned up to where her, once theirs, room was. He must've lost all sanity or his ears betrayed him. Slowly walking to the top of the stairs, Tate could've sworn he heard laughter that belonged to the only person whom he allowed to consume his being, Violet.

Hesitantly, Tate stalked up the stairs, not caring if he was visible or not, making his way to the door that separated him and Violet from seeing each other the way he desired. Pressing his ears against the door, he listened for what he believed he thought he heard just a minute ago.

A care free, and true laugh emerged beyond the door, just like he imagined. Except it sounded so foreign, he had never heard her laugh so full of joy. He continued to listen to hear if there was someone who had made the girl laugh the way she did. If there was, how could he make her laugh the way she is doing now? All he could hear was the singing of the Beatles from her iPod.

Jealousy began to build within Tate's chest, blinding his actions that he soon committed. Tate swung the door open, ready to throttle whoever was making Violet so happy. What he saw killed all flow to his rage and sent it the opposite direction.

Violet stood naked on her bed, with gold body paint smeared one her upper arms, across one of her thighs that ran up the side of her hip and to her heart. Tate could feel his groin tighten in his pants while the erratic girl danced on her bed, singing along to the music.

She had hardly noticed his presence until she could felt his heated look upon her. Rather than a pillow being thrown at him, Violet gave Tate the most pure smile he had ever seen. "Tate!" The way she called his name melted all he had in him that kept him standing. Violet sounded so innocent, untouched by the house. "Look at me!" How could he not? She was naked, painted in gold, kissed by moonlight from her window, feathers in her hair. "I'm a goddess!"

Dawned on her forehead was a henna like design in gold. She posed like a Hindu figurine with that same smile that had yet to leave her face. "Violet what-"

"I got you something," the girl interrupted. Violet crawled onto her bed and reached under her pillow, giving the staring boy a good view of her rear, thus making it harder for him to keep control of the slow hunger that was tearing at him.

Tate was unable to say anything or mutter a sound at what was unfolding before him. Violet slowly got up from her bed and made her way to Tate in such a sultry fashion that Tate believed that hell no longer wanted him and was forced through the gates of heaven. The way Violet's eyes slowly grew heavier the closer she was to him made Tate growl in the back of his throat.

Violet stood before Tate and he dared not touch her, in fear she would vanish. He shuddered when she placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled him in close. "I got you a gift," she whispered into his ear with her lips pressed against his lobe. Violet pressed her tender lips to the surprised Tate. She easily pried his mouth open and pressed something into the back of his mouth, forcing him to swallow.

Tate tried to prolong the kiss as she began to pull away. The temptress took both of his hands in hers and began to lead him to their bed, keeping a locked gaze with him. "Tate, let me take you to the light."

Let me take you down
'Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields Forever

…

Well that's the end of chapter one. Comments or no comments. I don't really care. C: I just like hearing what ya'll have to say. Muwahhahaha. I 3 Tate and Violet. So meant to be together.