It was easy for Violet to rationalize staying away from Tate, in that it would destroy her parents and she couldn't let that happen. Sure they sucked, but she had felt responsible for them all being here in a way because she refused to leave this goddamn house when she had the chance. However, she had long ago come to terms with the fact that that was complete shit and it wasn't her fault at all… or Tate's for that matter.
Violet ran clumsily from hall to hall, sobbing and whispering Tate's name urgently. She had sat in her room and cried silently as she decided that she didn't care what her parents were going to say or how anyone else in the place would react; she would be with him.
She fell down against the wall of the second floor bathroom wall, where she had died, and cried as silently as she could. Tate wasn't going to come; she flashed back to the night she had told him to Go Away, as she had 100 times before, and closed her eyes where the look on his face was forever ingraved on the inside of her eyelids. His big brown eyes pooled with tears and his face contorted almost as bad as her stomach when she thought about it. She had hurt him; of course he wouldn't come back.
"Hey," she heard a low voice murmur from above her. Violet looked up through her tears, trying to right herself. She wiped at her face with her sleeve and stared up into his dark eyes, almost black with… for the first time she wasn't sure how he was feeling.
"I called to you, Tate," Violet whispered. She looked down at the tile on the floor and a tear dropped down her nose. "You told me to Go Away," he replied with a short, business like tone. He was cold and distant and Violet didn't know how to respond. But of course he was going to be distant; she had broken his heart, and broken hers in the process.
"You told me to Go Away," he reminded her. His voice softened and now Violet could hear every emotion he had ever had in his voice. His tone and the way she spoke to her carried the feelings he possessed and he displayed them for her as he always had. She had been right, he was angry, but it was so much more than that; he was distraught. His voice trembled and she could see his knees shake as she slowly looked up at him. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, restoring the mysterious chestnut that Violet had loved so much. Those eyes could change everything. She stared into them and the mask holding in the tears collapsed and Tate slid into her lap as Violet gathered him into a hug.
"I'm sorry," she whispered over and over again. She pressed her lips into his misshapen hair and allowed her tears to fall. They sat there for some time like that: Tate half in Violet's lap, lying in a beaten down heap and Violet stroking his blond locks out of his face and she whispered to him.
"What about your parents?" Tate questioned as h lay next to Violet twenty minutes later, holding her tight to his chest, not letting go for anything.
"What about em?" Violet's muffled voice retorts aloofly. Pressed against Tate's chest, her parents felt a million miles away; but she knew they were right around the corner, and they would not be happy about this charming new development.