~a/n: Ugh. I'm still thinking of the Pat. *tragic sigh* but alas, he is
taken. I've decided that to cheer myself up I'll write the third and final
story in my Violaf series, thus making it my first true trilogy!! SCORE!! I
hope you all enjoy this one half as much as you seemed to enjoy the last
two, but a different song influenced me, so I make no promises. (PS--the
whole thing about kissing tears out of her eyes is an SKU reference, just
for you, Laera!)
C a n ' t L e t G o
C h a p t e r O n e
Violet couldn't say she was happy with her life at the moment, but it was accurate to say she was peaceful. She was safe, no one was trying to kill her, and the only person who thought about her for any unusual amount of time was that creepy little neighbor kid. She wished she could have stayed with Klaus or Sunny, or at least been placed near them, but it was safest if they were split.
Klaus' letters painted a similar picture of placid life, and the pictures Sunny drew with her crayons felt like peaceful scribbles, as oppose to frantic ones. This was what she had wanted for so long--Klaus and Sunny were safe, and life had settled down. For three years she had lived with the Socrats, a young couple who were one day planning to have children of their own, and life with them was a simple, mildly pleasant event.
As she threw her book bag on her bed and ripped open the monthly letter from Klaus, Count Olaf was the second farthest thing from her mind. He was never fully gone, you see--Violet's hyper-vigilance remained one of the few reminders of the hectic life on the run of her early teen years. And she still saw him sometimes too. A fleeting figure hurrying across the street, a cruel laugh in the distance, a familiar stranger who smiled at her for too long. The few friends close enough to know about her past told her she was just being paranoid, but inside she knew that he would never give up on her, that he would pursue her as long as he could.
The thought made her shudder. Some nights she would wake up spontaneously, remembering his lingering, eerie stare and his uncanny knack for finding her with her guard down.
On those nights she would turn on the lights and stay awake, afraid to close her eyes for more than a second. But daylight brings comfort, and as she read Klaus' letter (he was complaining about having to get braces) she smiled.
"Look at you," a voice said from behind, and she turned suddenly. He was outside her window, lying on the slope of the roof over the porch, and watching her with a little smile. "You're all grown up now. I can hardly believe it."
She blinked at him, astonished.
"I mean, I've been watching you grow, but there's something about a long, hard look that has so much more impact than fleeting glances and distant stares. My god, you got gorgeous."
She didn't move or blink. Now was the time to enact all those plans she had ready in case he showed up. But suddenly she couldn't remember a single one. She tried to move but felt stuck, like a massive weight was on her. All she could do was blink.
He climbed in the window and sat on her bed, still smiling. It wasn't his mocking, joking smile--he actually looked reasonably sincere. Somehow, that was even more alarming. He glanced around the room a bit before looking back at her. His smile widened a bit, and seemed a bit more crooked. "I missed you, you know. I didn't want to come visit you--I liked seeing you so happy and carefree, but mostly because you seem to have mildly competent guardians this time--I don't know if I have a disguise that could fool them."
She blinked at him again.
"You feeling okay?" he asked, waving a hand in front of her face. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"I-" she stammered. She stood up and pointed to the window. "Please leave," she said, attempting to regain some manner of composure.
"Oh," he said, rising and standing before her, "of course I'll leave. I didn't mean to disturb you." One long, skinny hand gently pulled her chin up to face him
"GO!" she cried, feeling hot tears track slowly down her cheek.
He leaned down and kissed the tears out of her eyes. Vaguely she heard the door slam downstairs and the clunk of pans as her new mother started dinner.
"I should go," he said, winking. "But I think we both know I'll be back." He climbed back out the window and leapt off the low roof. Violet sat heavily on her bed and cried.
C a n ' t L e t G o
C h a p t e r O n e
Violet couldn't say she was happy with her life at the moment, but it was accurate to say she was peaceful. She was safe, no one was trying to kill her, and the only person who thought about her for any unusual amount of time was that creepy little neighbor kid. She wished she could have stayed with Klaus or Sunny, or at least been placed near them, but it was safest if they were split.
Klaus' letters painted a similar picture of placid life, and the pictures Sunny drew with her crayons felt like peaceful scribbles, as oppose to frantic ones. This was what she had wanted for so long--Klaus and Sunny were safe, and life had settled down. For three years she had lived with the Socrats, a young couple who were one day planning to have children of their own, and life with them was a simple, mildly pleasant event.
As she threw her book bag on her bed and ripped open the monthly letter from Klaus, Count Olaf was the second farthest thing from her mind. He was never fully gone, you see--Violet's hyper-vigilance remained one of the few reminders of the hectic life on the run of her early teen years. And she still saw him sometimes too. A fleeting figure hurrying across the street, a cruel laugh in the distance, a familiar stranger who smiled at her for too long. The few friends close enough to know about her past told her she was just being paranoid, but inside she knew that he would never give up on her, that he would pursue her as long as he could.
The thought made her shudder. Some nights she would wake up spontaneously, remembering his lingering, eerie stare and his uncanny knack for finding her with her guard down.
On those nights she would turn on the lights and stay awake, afraid to close her eyes for more than a second. But daylight brings comfort, and as she read Klaus' letter (he was complaining about having to get braces) she smiled.
"Look at you," a voice said from behind, and she turned suddenly. He was outside her window, lying on the slope of the roof over the porch, and watching her with a little smile. "You're all grown up now. I can hardly believe it."
She blinked at him, astonished.
"I mean, I've been watching you grow, but there's something about a long, hard look that has so much more impact than fleeting glances and distant stares. My god, you got gorgeous."
She didn't move or blink. Now was the time to enact all those plans she had ready in case he showed up. But suddenly she couldn't remember a single one. She tried to move but felt stuck, like a massive weight was on her. All she could do was blink.
He climbed in the window and sat on her bed, still smiling. It wasn't his mocking, joking smile--he actually looked reasonably sincere. Somehow, that was even more alarming. He glanced around the room a bit before looking back at her. His smile widened a bit, and seemed a bit more crooked. "I missed you, you know. I didn't want to come visit you--I liked seeing you so happy and carefree, but mostly because you seem to have mildly competent guardians this time--I don't know if I have a disguise that could fool them."
She blinked at him again.
"You feeling okay?" he asked, waving a hand in front of her face. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"I-" she stammered. She stood up and pointed to the window. "Please leave," she said, attempting to regain some manner of composure.
"Oh," he said, rising and standing before her, "of course I'll leave. I didn't mean to disturb you." One long, skinny hand gently pulled her chin up to face him
"GO!" she cried, feeling hot tears track slowly down her cheek.
He leaned down and kissed the tears out of her eyes. Vaguely she heard the door slam downstairs and the clunk of pans as her new mother started dinner.
"I should go," he said, winking. "But I think we both know I'll be back." He climbed back out the window and leapt off the low roof. Violet sat heavily on her bed and cried.