Note: I've tried to experiment with retrospection. I've never done that in this story, but I thought that it would fit nicely. What do you think?

Warning: this chapter contains mature themes and mentions of self-harm.


Violet knocked on his door unsure whether she should be there at all. Few seconds passed with no answer. She knocked again and put her ear against the door. Violet could swear that she heard muffled sounds of music. Slowly, shameful realization made it into her head. It was instantly followed with the feeling of heat spreading on her neck and face. She turned into one of those girls that wouldn't take a hint. Violet cursed at herself internally and turned around to leave, making sure that each of her steps is as quiet as possible. Sour feeling of disappointment mixed with shame was filling her insides. She was sick of the unclear situation between the two of them, but most of all, she was sick of her vulnerability. Violet had opened herself to someone for the first time in her life, and that's how it ended. Hopes and expectations. Attachment. That was the exact reason why she had avoided getting close to anyone. Loneliness was good for her, no hard feelings toward anyone but herself. She was at the last step when she heard the voice from above.

"Violet!"


"Violet!" She turned around to see Trevor coming her way, cigarette in one hand, energy drink in another. Her first instinct was to run away and hide, but it was quickly replaced with sober thoughts. She couldn't avoid him forever. "Violet," he said again, finally catching up with her "I haven't seen you in a while. Why didn't you answer my calls?" She wanted to tell him kindly, yet firmly that they would never work-out and she avoided him to spare him the disappointment, but it wouldn't be considered normal. Instead she smiled faintly and turned her face in his direction. He surely wasn't expecting the harsh truth and Violet wasn't going to give him that anyway.

"I was busy." Her voice didn't sound sincere but she doubted that Trevor would notice.

"That's life. I mean, so busy that you couldn't return even one of them? I wanted to take you out for dinner." Violet quickened her pace to arrive at her usual lunch-break spot. She put her bag down and leaned against the tree.

"I'm sorry," she uttered finally "I'll call you back next time." Her statement must had sounded harsher than she wanted because his face changed. He looked surprised for a second which was quickly followed by the sadness in his eyes. Violet hated to deal with stuff like that. She never had the desire to lead people on, in her mind it was something that shallow girls would do to make up for their hidden lack of self-esteem. Trevor extinguished his cigarette and squeezed her arm gently.

"I know you will," he said and turned around to leave. He waved his goodbye before he disappeared from her sight. Violet sat down, her legs suddenly weak. She still wasn't over her meeting with Tate. Days had passed and instead of getting more distant, she felt closer to him, now more than ever. Not an hour was spent without her wondering when they would see each-other again. Violet hated the weaker, more romantic part of her nature, but at the same time she felt overjoyed that she had found him in this foreign place. Lazy smile creeped onto her face as she drifted off to the thoughts of their last meeting.


Tate was gazing at her. Violet was overridden with conflicting feelings. She could give him a long stare and leave, but that would make her look like conceited bitch. If she were to get back, he would think that he has her rolled around his little finger. For a short moment she was unsure of what her next step should be.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled from above "Violet, please. Come upstairs and we will talk." She was lost the moment he started talking in his broken, begging voice. Her slow steps were echoing against the walls of the building. When they finally stood face to face, Violet wasn't feeling confident at all. Tate had hands in his pockets, his figure bended. He looked like a little boy again. He made no move toward her so she passed him and entered the apartment. Tate followed her and closed the door quietly. His face seemed different now. It looked as if he was holding something back and any minute now it would pour out.

"We need to talk," he whispered, and his quiet voice made her more afraid than if he screamed. She was standing there quietly when he took a long step just to arrive at mere inches from her.


Tate hadn't showed up for his therapy session. Ben tried calling him and even considered visiting Constance, but decided that it would be silly to ask about her adult son's whereabouts. Violet was observing the situation from afar, worry creeping in the back of her mind. At first she was afraid that something happened to him for he had never skipped therapy before, but the more she thought about it, the more anxious she felt. If she wasn't so insecure, she would never think that his absence had something to do with her. Her mind was giving her different answers though, each one worse than the previous one. Violet was stuck in the never-ending circle of self-doubt and anxiety. She even resorted to the habit of cutting, the marks on her skin being also the marks of worse times. Anytime her life was flowing steadily, the razor was hidden deep in her mattress. Once something happened, it would find its way onto her arms. By the end of the weekend she couldn't contain herself any longer. She was on the verge of madness and needed to clear the situation between them. As she entered the car and started the engine, she wasn't sure what was she really going to achieve. Should she outright confront him? Or pretend that she just wanted to pay him a friendly visit? Violet had never found herself in such a situation so she was thinking of all possible solutions. Climbing up the stairs of his apartment building her mind was no clearer than it had been minutes ago when she was driving down the dimly lit street. She braced herself and knocked on the door, not knowing what awaited behind.


He took her hand and led her to the couch. As soon as they sat down, he backed off, his hands curled in fists on his lap.

"What are we doing," she asked to break the extremely uncomfortable silence that was arising around them.

"Violet," he started, but she had enough of it. Violet, Violet, Violet. He thought that because her name rolled off his tongue like a love song, she would not question things that he did.

"Stop with the Violets," she interrupted him. "What's going on Tate? Why wouldn't you contact me? Why would you skip therapy?" His face changed. It was as if his mind was giving him conflicting signal. He looked both mad and sad.

"I've had stuff to do," he uttered through clenched teeth "I'm sorry if you felt left-out, but I thought that it would be for the best." Violet felt taken aback.

"Since when do you decide what's good for me?" She was feeling defensive. Tate grabbed her arms aggressively and pulled her closer.

"Since I know that I'm a threat," he hissed "You shouldn't have come here, Violet." He sounded as if he meant it, but his eyes were saying something different.

"You are not a threat," she mumbled under her breath "I don't feel threatened by you." It wasn't a full truth, but she wanted so badly to get answers from him. Tate smiled faintly, his grip easing-off. He chuckled. It wasn't sincere in the slightest.

"I'm doing everything I can to leave you alone" he said "But I can't". Violet felt warmth building in her stomach. "I can't leave you and I can't control myself around you." His words made her melt like a candy. He was showing his affection in the most twisted way possible, but it was affection nevertheless. Violet finally got the answer that she had been waiting for.

"Then don't," she whispered looking into his eyes. Tate lowered his head to hers and before she could exhale with relief, his lips were on hers. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she clutched her hands in his hair to pull him closer. He opened her mouth with his tongue, the taste of the alcohol and cigarettes spreading on her own. Violet was filled with longing and she felt as if she couldn't get enough. His hands were traveling on her neck and arms. She was lost in the feeling, wetness on her mouth and between her legs. He grabbed and lifted her to sit on his lap. Her legs tangled around his calves, his hands on her thighs. He squeezed her and she let out and involuntarily moan, a small sound that made Tate's eyes widen. He pulled her close yet again, exploring her neck and base of her jaw. A wet mark was left in every place that his lips met her skin. She wanted more. Her hands traveled to his zip and before she could feel him fully, he stood up, lifting her with him. Her legs slid to the ground as he put his arms around her and kissed her more hungry than before. Their kiss messy, as if they couldn't find a right rhythm. Tate started leading them toward the bed. When back of her knees were met with stiff mattress, he broke the kiss. They were now gazing at each other, eyes filled with lust. He gently pushed her back and Violet landed on the sheets, legs spread apart from clumsy try to keep her balance. Tate kneeled between her thighs and put his hands under her back to lift her ever so slightly. Their lips met again but this time it was more angry, just as if he couldn't stop himself any longer. He was dominating over her, with his body as well as his mind. When another moan left her mouth, he backed off. His hands slid down her body to settle on the band of her thighs.

"You purr like a little kitten," he whispered and removed them slowly, almost with solemnity, his hands traveling up and down her legs. The tension was unbearable, Violet sat down and pulled his shirt up and over his head. He removed her cardigan and gently caressed soft skin on her back. It was then when Violet realized that just taking off these two pieces made her bare. While the old cuts had faded away, the news one were angry red and hence painfully visible. She knew that Tate wouldn't be disgusted with them, but the feeling of shame filled her nevertheless.

"Don't hide," he mumbled as if he could hear her thoughts. He took her hand and placed a soft kiss on the scar she beared on her wrist. Then he did something that sent shivers down her spine, he moved his lips up her arm. Something nearly animalistic flashed in his eyes as his tongue rolled around the fresh cuts. He pulled Violet to sit on his lap, her legs tight around his hips. He was looking into her eyes as he lifted the hem of her dress and slid his hand under. Her body froze. One of his hands was securing her hip while the other one moved lower, and lower until it rested on the very center of her panties. She had never been in sexual situation with a man before, but she understood they way Tate's gaze asked for her approval. Violet nodded her head and he slowly moved her pants aside to touch the heated skin. His fingers were circling the wetness between her legs, she knew the pleasant feeling well enough. It's not like she had never touched herself before. Her hand clenched onto his arm as his fingers made their way inside of her, stroking her lightly. His eyes was half-closed as he continued, Violet's soft moans accompanying his every stronger move. Her first natural reaction to the sounds that his fingers were making inside of her was shame, but it was soon followed with the urge to return the pleasure that he was giving. She clumsily unzipped his jeans and touched him gently through the fabric of his boxers. Violet was completely inexperienced, but she didn't feel as if it mattered to him. Maybe, probably, it even made him more eager to have her. His fingers started to move more frantically as she slid her hands to hold him, skin to skin. She liked how he felt under her hand. Her fingers closed around him and started to move, trying to match the rhythm he had appointed. His free hand moved from her hip to her neck, gripping her, pulling her to his lips. They were both breathing heavily, their mouth dry, tongues unable to meet from the feelings overflowing their bodies.

"Do you want to," he muttered, his eyes wide-open. Violet had never really though of her first time before. Well, she did, but more in a terms of it just happening rather than imagining the whole, love ritual.

"Yeah," she blurted and as soon as the words left her mouth, his fingers slid out of her body. She let go of him and moved back, as he kneeled on the end of the bed to reach the drawer. Tate pulled out a condom out of the packet and placed it in her hands. He himself turned to take off his pants. Violet was observing his body, no detail escaping her notice. She knew that she would be replaying that moment in her mind, over and over again. As soon as he was done he returned to his previous position and grabbed her to sit on his lap again. Only that now she was dressed, and he was completely naked, which made every muscle in his body tense. He kissed her hungrily, working on her dress, and when he finally took it off, he stopped in awe. Tate loved how small and vulnerable she looked. It contrasted well with lust in her eyes. He unclipped her bra and as it slid on the sheets, his head was already between her breast. He wanted her so badly it nearly ached him. He cupped her right breast in his hand and closed his mouth around her nipple, his tongues circling it as if Tate's life depended on it. Violet could not stop her back from arching. Now, that was something entirely new. He sucked on the delicate skin, his lips moving all around her. She decided that if they are about to do it, she better try and pretend that she's perfectly capable of using condoms. She ripped the package open and tried to unroll it when he stopped her.

"Take off your pants," Tate's voice didn't sound like a command, more like a plea, but Violet was quick to obey anyway. Her panties were around her calf when he grabbed her around the hips. She was now kneeling over him, knowing very well that if she was to lower herself an inch he would enter her. Violet enjoyed the moment they shared, looking in each other eyes, her hands on his arms, clutching him. She thought she was ready but when he slid inside her without a warning, her eyes teared up. The feeling was extremely unpleasant, as if something was tearing her, and all she wanted was for him to back up. He hugged her to his chest, stroking her hair. Tate was whispering in her ear, something about it getting better in a moment, and how happy he was that she let him do it in the first place. As the pain eased off a bit, her hips jerked involuntarily. He once again placed his hands on her hips and lifted her slightly to slide into her again. Violet started to enjoy the feeling, however strange. Few more movements directed by him and she had her arms around him, moving quicker and quicker. The friction mixed with eased-off, but not completely gone, pain was making her breathing ragged. They were now moving in a somehow steady rhythm. Tate arched his back a bit and she could take a look at their connection. There was something dirty but utterly erotic about him thrusting into her, and her observing the whole act. For a moment she felt like in a pornographic movie with extreme close-ups, which only added to her arousal. Tate held her hips steady and started thrusting into her in a slower, but way forceful manner. His every move was hitting her to the core and she didn't know whether she felt pleasured or hurt. He closed his eyes and Violet could study his focused face, sweat appearing on his forehead, and the veins getting more and more visible on his neck. With the next hard thrust he put his hand around her neck and pushed her on the back. He was now covering her with his body, her legs closing around his back. He tightened his grip and the lack of air mixed with the feeling inside of her was making her purr. With three more thrusts he finished, his breathing heavy, and his body putting all of its weight on Violet. Few short breaths exited his mouth and he slid out of her slowly. As he stood up, she rolled on her side and clumsily slid on the dress.

"I am tired," she whispered as he sat on the mattress. Tate laid down and put his arm around her, his eyes closing.

"Me too."