After what seemed like an eternity sitting on the hard wood floors, an ashtray full of cigarette butts was all that remained of her walk down memory lane. Tears were dried, eyeliner smudged and eyes slightly blood shot. If anything she could just tell her parents she was in her room getting high, that'd go over great. Honestly, she wondered if anything would phase them anymore. After Halloween the whole balance of the household seemed to shift, and while she couldn't care less, Violet wondered if her suggestion to her mother to just get divorced had finally been a glimmer of hope in the woman's eyes. Quite frankly, if Ben was her husband and he had done what he had to Violet instead of Vivien, that fucker would be out on his ass, shit thrown in the front yard, maybe even set some shit on fire.

If you love someone you should never hurt them. Never..

Pushing herself up and off the floor, Violet discarded her mess, pouring her cigarette butts into the now empty pack and dumping the ashes out the window. Standing beside it for a minute, she looked out over the town she could see from her second story bedroom and breathed in the smoggy LA air, the crisp breeze that made it feel like the end of spring rather than the beginning of fall. She missed Boston, the seasons, the people, the food, the life she grew up with. There was nothing for her in this sham of a town, nothing but this house that fascinated her more and more on a daily basis, and Tate of course. Closing the window, she glanced down at the once white silky slip dress she had put on, the lace hem hitting mid thigh was fraying from where she had nervously picked at it while sitting next to her bed. Blood from her newly opened scar tainted a few spots on the left side, some black eyeliner she had wiped off after forgetting she'd been wearing it was rubbed off on the right side of the ensemble. She probably should change, she thought, she looked ridiculous. Not even Courtney Love could pull this off, she merely wore it cause no one could tell her otherwise.

Stopping halfway to her closet, figuring she should probably change before her mom inevitably came home and brought up dinner, she knew if Vivien saw her dressed like a coked out rocker she'd most likely barge in and demand a piss test. Pausing in front of her vanity, Violet turned slightly, angling herself as she examined her appearance in the mirror. It was easier to wear clothes that hid everything, but when she did wear form fitting things, it still did nothing for her. Pressing her hand against her stomach, holding the smooth fabric against her skin as she eyed her small chest, she let out an almost laugh before turning to face forward, hands sliding to her hips to hold the fabric there, framing the almost-curves. How in the world was she ever supposed to lose her virginity if she looked like a 12 year old her whole life? Granted, it wasn't on the top of her to do list, but lately it was definitely something she thought of more frequently. She figured that was common in teenagers once they actually found themselves attracted to someone. How could she expect Tate to be attracted to her the way she was to him, how could she want him to see her as a sexual object if she couldn't fathom being one? The options were as such: 1. he wanted to fuck her, and that made him a quasi pedophile since she looked like Dakota Fanning in Dr. Seuss or 2. he was pretending to be attracted to her and this was all a cruel joke.

A knocking at the door interrupted her thoughts and her not so productive attempts to change. Crossing the wooden floor quietly, her bare feet hardly making a nose, she bent down swiftly to grab her large sweater again. "What?"

"Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies?"

Smirking at the voice she knew all too well, Violet stopped slipping her arm through the wool sleeve and dropped it on the floor again. The soft hairs on the back of her neck rose immediately at the thought of him seeing her like this, and that was almost as thrilling as him in a gimp suit. Licking over her awkwardly bright red lips as she unlocked the door, Violet opened the door to see Tate's cocky grin which upon seeing her quickly faded. The hairs rose again as his eyes moved impossibly slow over her body, his body language shifting from calm and collected to .. nervous? His thumbs that were loosely hanging in his torn jeans pockets were now clenched against his fingers, knuckles whiter than his already pale skin; his deliciously defined jaw clenched as he stood stiff as a statue, drinking in the appearance of his friend whom he'd never imagined looking like that. Sure, he'd fantasized about her, there were a lot of questionable things she'd wear in his head, but this was not one of them.

"Tagalongs." Doing her best to seem unphased by how he was looking at her, like she was a piece of meat, Vi cocked an eyebrow at his silence. "The peanut butter ones? Shit, what kind of girl scout are you?"

Turning and walking away, her hips moving a little more than normal as she did so, the girl finally allowed herself to smile in amusement. Changing her grrl power playlist to one she'd set specifically for him, comprised of grunge and more mellow songs than she typically listened to, Violet turned and leaned against the edge of her dresser as she waited for the hint of color to return to the boy's face. Maybe she was wrong? Maybe there was a third option, maybe she wasn't as non-erotic as she thought. Maybe Tate was a recently escaped convict who hadn't seen anything with a vagina in over a decade and she was the closest thing he found.

"Rape me." Sitting down on the edge of her bed, finally relaxing after getting accustomed to the girl's appearance, his cocky grin returning to his face as her cheeks flushed. Nodding towards the speakers next to her, his hands gripped her mattress as he leaned forward. "Nirvana. It's one of my favorite songs."

"Right." Fucker. Somehow he always knew just how to get a rise out of her, just when she thought she had the upper hand. Lifting her bare leg, exposed to him more than ever before, she nudged his knee with her foot in a weak attempt to flirt. "Are those the only pants you own? You know grunge is dead, right?"

"Well if that's not the pot calling the kettle black.." In his defense, his wardrobe was in fashion when he first got it. She had no excuse for her 'style', unless she was secretly an 80 year old with the occasional band tee. Licking over his lips as his long fingers wrapped around the girl's ankle, his hungry eyes crept over her body again, examining her smooth leg he had a grip on, his eyes lead the way followed by his hand, firmly sliding up her calf. Smirking broadly as his eyes hit the end of the dress, her legs parted just enough to give a teasing peek of her underwear, his hand stops behind Violet's knee and tugs her thin frame away from the dresser and to the edge of the bed where he sat. "Speaking of black.."

"Look with your eyes, not your hands." Doing her best to be unphased by practically being eye fucked, Vi stood between Tate's parted legs, her small hands resting on his broad shoulders as his held her hips carefully. Staring down at his dark eyes, she tried hard to read what he was thinking. Was he staring at her with lust, or were his eyes half lidded because he was bored and in cooperation with being on a bed he just wanted to sleep? Giving into her inner girly girl, Violet bit lightly on her crimson painted bottom lip as her hands playfully shoved her friend's shoulders back. "Speaking of looking.. you didn't even laugh in response to my get up."

"Whoa buddy, slow down, I'm not that easy." Stopping himself from falling back on her bed, Tate grinned up at her, taking yet another opportunity to stare hungrily at her body just barely covered with the flimsy fabric. Sliding his hands down from her hips to her thighs, his eyebrow furrowed as he caught sight of the blood and black smudges. He opted to hold off on asking about it since right now she clearly wanted to play the devil's advocate to his hormones. "Well, Courtney, I think you look down right filthy." Smirking as he carefully ran his fingertip along the lacy hem, ghostly tracing her thigh in doing so. His eyes returned to her face, he couldn't believe his normally modest dressed girl was wearing such a revealing outfit, nor could he believe her letting him touch her. He was mentally tapping her out of this 5 minutes ago, she was winning. "Do you feel filthy?"

"Oh yeah, how did you know? I feel slutty and horny. God nothing turns me on more than Chris Cornell's voice. You must be a mind reader." Rolling her eyes as her words come out completely monotonous, Violet gives into her desire and lifts her fingers to Tate's head. Grinning as her fingers comb through his wavy locks, she lets out a quiet laugh. She had been wanting to do that for weeks! It wasn't nearly as soft as she thought it would be, but then again he was a boy. When did they ever shower? And even when they did, how often did they condition? Tugging lightly at the dyed tangled parts, she mentally pushed past her comfort zone as he pulled her body impossibly closer. She was doing her best to remember breathing as his cheek rested against her flat stomach, his hands still holding onto her thighs, inwardly justifying he was just helping her stay balanced so she wouldn't fall over, or forward rather. "What do you want to do?"

Don't ask questions you already know the answer to. You're smarter than that.

If he could melt, he would have been a hot messy puddle on her sheets, but his form was still solid. His mind was racing, however, trying to answer questions and make excuses for things he was currently feeling. Thinking, however, was increasingly difficult as his focus was being constantly tugged to Violet's hands combing through his hair. It felt like what he assumed heaven did. This was the closest he'd ever get. Opening his heavy eyes, the boy tilted his head up, resting his chin just above her belly button in order to stare at her face as best as he could from this angle, still refusing to put space between them. He was a broody, scary, angry, intimidating animal, how was he suddenly a cuddly Labrador puppy in her hands? Not that he was complaining, he had spent his entire life trying to find this feeling, and now it was his. What did he want to do? There were twenty million answers he could give right now, but he was smart. The more he pushed something he knew she wasn't 100% comfortable with, the farther she'd push him. Away. Deciding to push the envelope in a different direction, he smiled devilishly at her and the song blaring through the speakers behind her. "Dance?"

Not having a chance to protest, Violet non-verbally consented, allowing Tate to practically pick her up as he stood in front of her, hiking her dress up slightly as he did so. Keeping her hands tucked into the blankets of hair on his head, she stared up at the boy who's arms loosely rested around her waist, his body pressed gently against hers as they swayed to Nirvana. She wondered if she was his first, or had he done this before? He didn't seem like the dancing type, and like hell if he'd actually go to a dance. An organized function? Maybe once Hell froze over. They were kindred like that, refusing to give into conformist activities organized by Nazi administrators who refused to let individuals be just that - individual. Still, the tiniest part of her mind flickered with an image of the two of them, doing just this, only in formal wear. Prom? Over her dead body. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

"You know, you look a lot like Kurt right now." Breaking the silence once the song had finished, she let her hands fall to his shoulders once more but refused to break her body away from his. Running fingertips along the fuzzy sleeves of his mustard cardigan, her lips pulled into a smirk as she slid her hands over his chest and up to his shoulders again, freeing them of the extra fabric. Not putting up a fight, Tate let the girl disrobe him, allowing his sweater to fall on the floor behind him. Laughing as her hands brought a chill to his warm stomach, his eyes shut while his senses took her touch to memory. Arms hung loosely by his side, he had stopped swaying to the music which was a little faster now anyway.

"You're much more beautiful than Courtney, and I trust you won't shoot me." Conspiracy theories brought grins to both of their faces. Raising a hand to her cheek, he brushed his thumb against her pale cheek before lowering his head, breaking the little space they had left between them. Kissing her colorful lips, Tate let out a heavy breath against them as her hand tightened on his waist. Sliding his free arm around her again, he held his large palm against the small of her back, pulling her hips harder against his as he leaned into the kiss. A series of chills shocked his system as his normally mute friend let the tiniest moan escape. He would take cues from her, but holding back was impossible now. Pushing her backwards, he walked slowly with her, his long legs sliding between hers with each step until her ass hit the dresser once more. Grabbing Violet's waist firm without being too rough, it took all he had to not let go and be as aggressive as he was with everything else. Still, the tiniest bit of humanity remained in him, and though he could kill an intruder without blinking, the thought of adding any more scars or bruises to the young girl's body stopped him in his tracks. That and her hands shoving him backwards. Dropping to the edge of the bed where he originally sat, he did his very best to catch his breath as his head shook. "I'm sorry. Sorry. Too fast."

Grabbing her Ipod again, Violet quickly changed the playlist to it's first setting, 'fuck off'. Shoving it back in the dock, she all but lunged at Tate. Kissing and shoving, grabbing and pulling, it had all brought back the real reason she had put on the dress. The make up. The attitude. She couldn't be fucked with when she had it in her to take control. Knowing what to do with that control was optional, but how hard could it be? Just reference movies and erotic literature, Vi, how hard can this be? "No." Speaking to him as well as her inner dialogue, shutting them both up, her lean legs moved to straddle Tate's lap, sitting down facing him, she refused to give him a chance to protest this time. Driving her mouth against his full force, she let the music motivate her. Joan Jett and Cherie Curry's voices prompting her to find her inner bad ass, knowing she was just as young as the rockers when they started, as naive as Cherie to the ways of the world. Of men. Still, if she could personify sex why the hell couldn't Violet?

Come on ladies you got nothing to lose!

All but ripping his shirt as she pulled at the bottom hem, tugging it hastily up, Violet broke their harsh kiss long enough to undress his torso completely. A quick flashback to the basement. Latex uncovering his sweaty torso, being shoved and pinned. It was her turn. Slamming his back against the bed with all the force she could muster, Vi laid on top of her friend, returning heated kiss after heated kiss while her hands explored his chest, grabbing and scratching his skin with frustration. Pushing, grinding, thrusting her hips in any way she thought would bring her any relief, she paused as his belt hit her pelvic bone for the last time. Sitting up on his lap, she did her best to hide her grin as the growing bulge in his pants pressed firm against her. Undoing the clasp and ripping the entire belt out of the loops and to the wayside like a magician would do with a table cloth, leaving dishes in place when he was done.

His mind raced. He had sex before, he fucked around with bitches, he knew what to do, what to expect, how to get off while getting the other person off as well if he felt so inclined. This was different, however, this was new to him, she was different. He'd never categorize her as a 'bitch' he randomly hooked up with, he'd never refer to what they were doing as 'fucking around'. Even in the most rushed, aggressive method, what he did with Violet was different than just getting off. Breathing heavily as she commenced grinding against his lap, still perched, her head thrown back as her hands roamed, groping her own body since his were still frozen on her thighs. Was she really grinding to the music? Impressive coordination. Licking over his lips, he cautiously grabbed the bottom of her dress. He was half naked, shouldn't she be? He was approaching unfamiliar territory, though and that scared him. The last thing he wanted was for this to end, and if he undressed her before she wanted to be, she could by all rights get up and demand he leave. Settling for sliding his hands under the dress, he mentally patted himself on the back for such a quick compromise under such pressure. Firmly holding onto Violet's perfectly defined hips, he stares at her face, thriving more on her expressions than what's going on to his body. Stopping her methodical grinding to show her how it felt to move together, his hips rolled up as he forced hers to shift against his in unison. Chills again.

Moans were becoming something Violet was getting all too comfortable with as Tate continued to turn up her inner thermometer. Working up to a new height of labored breathing as the blood rushed through every inch of her petite body, she was thankful he couldn't tell she was actually blushing by just how wet she'd already gotten. He was no idiot, surely he'd realize it sooner rather than later, she chose distraction as her method of attack. Pulling the slip dress up and over her head, she tossed it to join his clothes on the floor before returning her hands to his body, or pants rather. As the song stopped, her fingers faltered with the button and zipper. Her need for this was still there, but a hint of nervousness was creeping in past her bad ass facade. It was either Tate was one hell of a mind reader, or luck was working in her favor. Giving the reigns temporarily to the boy, she smirked up as he threw her down on the bed, fluidly moving to shift their positions. Resting her head against the pillow as she laid on her bed the right way finally, she waited impatiently as Tate removed his own pants. His boxers were about as sexy as her bikini cuts, but that was definitely not a concern right now.

"We can't have sex."

Her words stopped him in his tracks. Did that mean leave, or they could do everything but..? He was answered as her legs parted, making room for his body to rest between. Evading her attempts to bring his face to hers, he dropped his mouth instead to her neck, licking her hot, salty skin before kissing his way down. She had tasted much better in real life than in his fantasies. Laughing inside at how this was panning out just as he had told her dad in their previous sessions, he wondered if Ben would be able to read the guilt on his face next time they met up. Quickly blocking her father out of the equation to avoid awkwardness, he bit at her collar bone, sucking the skin into his mouth to extract another moan hoping that would leave Ben as just a figment of his imagination. Grinning against her skin as she did just as he wanted, he lowered his mouth, kissing his way down her sternum, his dark eyes rose to her face. Watching just how much she was enjoying this was all he needed to get off if she later decided getting him down to his boxers was where she ended things.

Surely if she had known just how amazing this felt, 'virgin' would have been as laughable to her as it was to Addie. Arching her back as Tate's hand and mouth attacked her bare breasts, she had to be thankful for her mother's impeccable timing in leaving the house. She was never very loud in getting off, but then again she never had assistance. Writhing against the bed, her body shifted under his, doing her best to get more contact. Rewarded with his hips pressing against her's once more, she shocked herself with how loud she gasped, forcing Tate to stop in his tracks out of fear he had done something wrong. His 'deer in headlights' expression was enough to make her laugh, which in turn made his engorged cock pressing against her less alarming. Still nervous out of pure ignorance to the situation, the constant blaring of tough girl vocals helped reaffirm her independence.

"This is the first time I've.."

Stopping herself as it was probably as blatantly obvious, Violet's hand blindly dove into Tate's boxers. Lifting her upper body as best as she could, Vi used her free hand to grab the boy's neck, using more force this time to make sure his mouth made it's way to her's again. Hoping to distract him from her awkward strokes with lust filled kisses, her body continued squirming under his. Did people ever die from getting so worked up then not being touched? Would she self implode? This wasn't the time to find out. Her brain had apparently shut off it's connection to her lungs as his hand pushed past her underwear, by the time she remembered it was vital to survival to partake in oxygen/carbon dioxide exchange her head was thrown back, gasping for a steady breath. Focusing on getting him off was damn near impossible as his fingers expertly found their way inside of her, curling and thrusting in all the right ways. Had he watched her do this to herself before or was he just that experienced that he knew exactly what she needed?

Helping her nervous grip, Tate's hips moved against her hand while his own worked to pump his fingers inside of the girl. Moaning against her throat as he got dangerously close to cuming inside his boxers, he was doing his best to hold off until he could help her orgasm. It was always more rewarding that way, for him at least. His concentration was immediately broken, his body frozen as Violet continued to wiggle unaware of the door downstairs. Staring at her face as her mom's voice shoved her back into reality, Violet gasped at Vivien's warning that she was home. Fear covered the young girl's face as she hopelessly looked at the boy hovering over her for an answer as to how to deal with this situation. He answered with his lips pressing hard against hers as his fingers plummeted into her, pumping hard and fast as his thumb occasionally brushed over her clit. Shocking himself as he spontaneously came as she did, he chalked it up to her fluids coating his hand as she screamed in pleasure against his mouth, thankfully muffling the majority of it.

"Violet," Her voice was far too audible now as her footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, Vivien stopped at the door. "I'm making dinner, are you hungry?"

"I'm naked!" Her exclamation stopped her mom who was already turning the door knob. Tate was already out of bed, scampering to collect his clothes and throw them on. This made Violet smile ear to ear despite her new found exhaustion. "I just took a shower. I'm starving, thanks."

The last bit was directed at Tate who couldn't look more proud or more guilty. Without another word, Vivien left the doorway and returned downstairs. She would probably just chalk it up to her daughter being a teen, and thus a freak. Sitting up in her bed, her hair messier than before, lipstick smeared equally on their faces, Violet couldn't help but accomplished as she watched Tate dress. See? Nothing to fear.

"Can I see you later?" He was leaning down to kiss her forehead, but stopped as her head moved. Lighting, lovingly kissing her lips, he smiled against them before pulling away.

"Yes, but I'm tired of the basement. Come through the window after they go to bed." Her voice didn't hint of suggestion, it was very a-matter-of-fact. His smirk, however, forced her to roll her eyes and clarify. "This isn't going to happen every time you're in my room, jackass."

"A boy can dream." Smiling at her as he started to pull his cardigan on, he stopped as she reached for it.

"Leave the sweater, Kurt."

"Only if you promise to wear that dress again. Courtney."

They both laughed and rolled their eyes, almost in unison.