Tate sneaks up on her as she's sliding the roast into the oven.
"Whatcha cooking?" he asks, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"It's a surprise for Mom and Dad." They like it when she cooks. She's gotten very good over the past decades; everyone needs a hobby, especially if they're going to be this strange combination of dead and alive for all of eternity. Sex with her boyfriend is great and all, but after the first dozen years things started to get a little repetitive.
"What's the occasion?"
"Their hundredth anniversary."
"Wow." Tate raised surprised eyebrows. "Which means ours will be coming up soon."
"Yeah, in another seventeen years."
Seventeen years will pass with that same strange, quick slow way time always passes for them. Eternity is depressingly boring most of the time. Days pass, lazy and never ending, but blink, close your eyes for a second, and a year is gone, Christmas coming yet again, snow in her hair and the scent of wood burning in the fire place. Violet doesn't mind. She has Tate, she has her family, she has the others to talk with, to play with, and really, eternity is nothing to be bothered with. The world is ever changing, and here, in her house, Violet is content to watch it change around her.
Tate helps her bake the cake. It's red velvet (her mom's favorite) and he gets a spot of rosy batter on the tip of his nose, goes cross-eyed trying to see it, grins when Violet leans forward and kisses it away. They make a sticky mess which the new owners (a lovely young couple, neither of whom are very interesting or bright) will explain away somehow, and break a few dishes just for the fun of it.
Tate kisses her, and he tastes like bitter chocolate and vanilla extract. Violet takes advantage of the distraction and throws a handful of flour into his face, and by the time the cake is ready, the kitchen is covered in white powder and smashed eggs.
They laugh together as the sun sets, the sky scarlet and gold.
…
"Happy Anniversary!"
"We made cake."
"And a roast."
"A roast?" Vivian's eyebrows jerk upwards. "Violet…"
Ben leans forward, sighing. "Violet, we did talk to you about this. Only once in a while, when there's a way to get rid of the body. Otherwise it starts to smell, then the police show up…"
One of the twins (no one is really sure which one is which) appears at the door, eyeing the meat curiously.
"So who is it?"
"Just the garbage man. And we did get rid of the body, Gideon took it to the reef."
The man down the street is sweet, eager, blindly oblivious to the reason there appear to be over fifty people living in one house, and he also happens to have an enormous crush on Chad. A strong enough crush that he will dispose of large, slightly suspicious garbage bags if asked politely. And if you ask Violet, Chad isn't immune to their neighbor's awkward charm and sparkling eyes. Patrick is nice enough, when he's not trying to hit on her father, but honestly, it's about time. A hundred years is a long, long time to wait for someone who isn't going to come back to you.
"Violet, that's the third garbage man in a row," Chad scolds. "At least go for a little more variety. Now the woman who walks her dog every morning at 6 o'clock, she looks like she could have some real potential."
She doesn't really remember when they started eating people. It was her idea. There had been something itching in the back of her skull, a bit of violence, a touch of madness, and really, who can blame her. This house is enough to drive anyone batty.
She had grown tired of cooking. She needed something to spice the experience up a bit.
"Well, it looks absolutely delicious, sweetheart. And rare, just how I like it."
"A roast," Chad complains. "The least you could have done was sauté some of the organs, with a little lemon and some stuffed mushrooms on the side. I mean really, a roast for an anniversary dinner? Are we living in the stone age now? Please, please tell me you saved the heart."
Violet sighs quietly and threads her fingers through Tate's, drawing him away from the dining room so that her parents can have some privacy. Chad wanders away, muttering to himself about how Gideon wouldn't have made a roast.
The two ghosts smile at each other. They have their own plans for Gideon. Suffice to say, he'll be joining them very shortly. Not for dinner, though. Chad might take it a little personally if they serve up his not-boyfriend as a main dish.
But they'll have to cook together again, soon. Violet can't think of anything she likes more than spending time in the kitchen with Tate, all cold marble counters, spices and ingredients, blond curls at her fingertips, chocolate kisses against her pulse.
And the food is just to die for.
I'm sorry. Kind of. I watched AHS and Hannibal at the same time. Not a good idea. Done for a tumblr prompt.
