This will be a series of oneshots for Tate and Violet from American Horror Story. This first one was a little rough, as there's only been two episodes. Hopefully, they'll get more entertaining and sexilicious as time goes on. I don't own American Horror Story, although I do wish I owned Tate. Sexy bastard.
He notices her hair lying against the white tile of the bathroom floor, swaying back and forth as the breeze from the window gently guides it to cover her eyes. It flows smoothly as it tenderly slides across the blood stained floor, reaching the wrist he soon reaches down to grab – her other arm remains sprawled out, adjacent to her lips that seem to quiver, as if begging for a breath. Pain, although already a prominent part of his life, floods through his body. He bites his tongue as he holds her wounded limb, his mouth hovering above her unmistakably shuddering lips.
Her warm breath is unmistakable against his ear.
For a moment, he sees her standing in the corner, blood pouring from the neck he ever so wants to caress. Within a blink, she's gone, replaced by the one resting in front of him, a serene panic expressed through her quickening pace in breath.
Through the hair covering the eyes he loves most, she faintly sees the golden hair suspended above her; it seems angelic in the moment, which is ironic to her in a way. She briefly closes her eyes, music from her bedroom down the hall filling her head as she concentrates on breathing.
He watches as her trembling mouth forms a simple smile, her pale cheeks becoming rosy as she lets out a hushed giggle. "Go put on some Nirvana," she whispers as the grin remains stricken across her face. "I'm feeling kind of pissy right now."
He hesitates a moment before shaking his head, slowly lowering himself to her, his now trembling lips meeting her soft and delicate smile. His free hand begins to softly stroke her brown hair before he begins humming Smells Like Teen Spirit.