Tate looked at her, wanting to take her into his arms, for once in his life not wanting to kill someone close to him. Violet brightened his day when she told him her problems. She trusted him. No one had ever trusted him.

"Do you want to come inside?"

"I thought I wasn't allowed in anymore."

"They're not home," she answered standing and taking his hand. "I don't care what they say about you Tate. I don't think you're a bad person."

"That's a first." He never wanted to lose her. He wanted to protect her. "Violet?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Do I have a reason not to?" Her eyes pierced his with a fierce fire that blazed behind her iris.

"No yet…." He confessed lacing his fingers with hers. "Let's go inside."

"Tate," the way her voice wrapped around his name, like an angel whispering in his ear. It was ironic though with him being a devil himself. Her hands, gentle and hesitant, touched his face. "You are good."

With sad eyes he held her gaze wishing they didn't have to hide. There was something between them. He knew it. She knew it. Would she admit it? He had no idea. He couldn't figure out what she would do next. She was so complicated. Like him.

Pulling away her warmth he walked toward the house, sun still high in the sky. The floor creaked loudly as he entered through the kitchen door. Violet was on his heels concern knitted on her face. Tate wanted so badly to slam her into the counter and tell her it didn't matter as he kissed her. He could never hurt her though. Her parents did enough with all of their adult affairs. He sat down on the bar stool and watched her get out the jug of tea from the fridge. "Do you want some?"

"Depends on what that 'some' is."

She raised her eyebrows in response and walked around the counter to where he sat. "What did you have in mind?"

Tracing her jaw Tate leaned forward lips hovering above her's before pulling back. "Nirvanna?"

"I'll go get my iPod."

"Let the gentleman do it." Tate said backing her into a chair.

Upstairs he found the iPod on her desk. A mirror sat above it staring at him reflecting a look of self hatred. Anger surged through him at looking at his own reflection. He was a waste of space, nothing, zip. Violet deserved much better.

"Tate," her soft voice sounded behind him.

He didn't turn.

Her hands touched his shoulders. "Talk to me."

"You would be disgusted by my thoughts." Tate's voice was low and scared. Scared she would think of him like a freak.

"Look at me."

"Don't tell me what to do." He answered tone dangerous. He turned anyways to look at her face. He expected disgust and found pure worry.

"Kiss me," she whispered wrapping her arms around his neck.

Tate's lips met hers hesitantly letting himself feel pure emotion for a minute. Their soft breath was all he could hear as her heartbeat through her shirt. She tasted like stale cigarettes and tea. It ended all too soon as her door creaked open ripping them apart.

"Violet," her father growled glaring at Tate. Hate was clear there. "What did I tell you?"

"He didn't do anything! Why are you always lecturing me about this?" She yelled standing in front of him like she could protect him.

"Why are you protecting him?"

"Why are you being so misunderstanding?"

"Violet," Tate gently pulled her to the side. "It's fine. I'll leave."

Walking by Ben he turned and looked up at him. "See you next session."

With that he left without a backwards glance. "Violet, why do you feel the need to disobey me?"

"Why do you feel the need to ruin my life? He's the only one that listens to me. You can't even see what's right under your nose." Violet stormed past him toward the bathroom locking herself in. Her father pounded on the door begging her to come out as she cut away at her skin. She needed Tate. She wanted him to tell her that she was being stupid. He didn't sugarcoat anything and told the truth even when you didn't want it. The pounding stopped on the door.

Tears stung Violet's eyes as the truth hit her in the face. Her father didn't even care enough to break the door down and make her stop. The blood spilled onto the white tiled floor as tears caressed her face. No one was here for her. Not anymore.

Tate kicked the tree outside the old house. Rage filled him to the tip. All he wanted was to go back in and hold Violet and tell her he'd never leave again. But he couldn't go back in. Not yet. Her father appeared in the doorway glaring at him arms crossed. Tate flipped him the bird as he walked down the sidewalk, rage filling every step.