It was only a few hours later that day, when night had started to fall, when Violet decided to return home. Leah had offered for her to sleepover but Violet wasn't in the mood for the other girl's stories. All she wanted to do was collapse on her bed, listen to some music and eventually drift off to sleep. Being alone seemed like the perfect way to spend the rest of her evening. Besides, the two girls had spent the day wandering around Downton – looking at little antique shops and getting bubble tea. And as fun as all of that had been, she was feeling pretty anti-social at the moment.

But when she reached her driveway, she found her gaze stuck on the neighbours house again. Ignoring the cold, for favour of staring. It still seemed empty. There was no car, no light on... All things considered, it was almost one in the morning, so they were probably asleep. But it just seemed so strange... Almost as strange as the boy who lived there. What was his name again? Tate. The name was also strange. Not extremely – but it certainly wasn't one that she had heard before. Or, at least, she had never met someone with that name.

Violet often found herself drawn to certain people. Like Leah, for example. Even when the girl hated her guts, she still found pleasure in annoying her. Just getting a small reaction was enough back then. But now the two were best friends. Most of her relationships worked that way, actually. She rarely made acquaintances – just found herself drawn to people and if that happened, she tried her hardest to get to know them better. It was kind of like a form of superstition.

She realized that at least five minutes must have passed only when her fingers refused to close around her set of keys properly. Deciding she should go inside before they fell off completely, she tore her eyes away from the house and walked away.

"What're you looking at?"

The sudden sound in the quiet room made him flinch, eyes flickering away from where he had previously been staring. Inhaling slowly, Tate turned from the window, gaze falling on his mother. She was beautiful, in her own way. With age being kind to her, she held a regal kind of charm. Yet as his eyes met hers, he was reminded that her kind exterior was just a well refined mask. Inside of her dark eyes, there was a cold-blooded monster. Just like his own.

"Nothing," he mumbled, slowly shuffling across the room, so he could drop down to sit near the wall, fingers gently running over the pack of cards that had half-fallen from one of the few bags that scattered the room. The only light was obscured by a heavy filter, causing the room to be bathed in a devilish red glow. But he had grown used to it by now.

"Well... this nothing could very well cost us our lives, Tate. The police are crawling out there, looking for you. Do you know that? Leaving this place twice in less than twenty four hours... God graced you with a beautiful face, yes, but sometimes I wonder if he forgot to give you a brain." The sentence was followed by a short laugh, ringing in the room and making his head hurt. Her voice was just as sweet as she appeared to be, but the insults stung, nonetheless.

Eyes fixed on the cards, he nodded, unblinkingly listening to the gentle sound of the lamp flickering. He didn't like lying to his mother, but he couldn't tell her about that girl. Violet. Even her name threatened to bring a smile to his face as he sat, alone in the red sea of light. He couldn't help but watch as she stared up at their temporary house, looking like something from a dream. Bathed in streetlight and curious as ever... When he had first seen her, he had battled with himself for only a few seconds before starting up a conversation. But something about her scared him. Not because of her, really, but because of emotions he had never felt before. Whoever had hurt her, leaving bruises painted across her body... He could still feel the remnants of complete madness that lingered in his veins, singing for him to torture that bastard.

"Not now, Tate."

His mothers voice caused his head to snap up, eyebrows pulling into the smallest of frowns.

"You can't risk killing someone right now. It's too soon."

"I wasn't thinking about it, I-" But he was cut off, her voice sharp and jutting, like a knife piercing his skin.

"Don't lie to me. I know that look in your eyes. That devilish evil... You can't hide it from me. From everyone else, yes. But not from your momma." And with that, she stood from where she had been sitting and disappeared into another room, not bothering to close the door behind her.

He stared at the door that she had stalked through, eyes unwavering, swimming with a mirage of emotions. Hatred, shame, confusion. But there was one that he had never felt before. Desire. For the first time in his life, he wanted something. Really wanted something. Sure, he had wanted to kill before. But this, this was different. It was... intoxicating. By the time he glanced down again, to stare at the cards, he was surprised to see that he had torn apart most of the casing, exposing to him the queen of hearts. Gently prying it from the package, he held it up to his eye level, head tilting as he stared at it.

Rolling to her side, Violet let out a small groan, cursing the sunlight that filtered in through her blinds. It was always strange to her, that she felt shittier on weekends, after having a chance to sleep in. But then again, things had been weird lately. Or at least, since two days ago, when she had the terrifying encounter with that guy. A few more minutes passed before she forced herself up and awake, stumbling out of her bed.

It only took her a few minutes to get dressed and fix her hair as best she could before she was on her way downstairs, drawn by the smell of coffee.

"Hey," she greeted her dad, grabbing a mug of coffee and letting her fingers curl around the warmth.

"Morning sunshine," he replied, sending her a slight smile.

It was a usual ritual for the two. They would pretend for awhile that everything was perfect. That her mother and his wife hadn't abandoned the train wreck of a family that they were and they they were happy. It usually worked, for the most part. There were a few moments of silence before Violet piped up, figuring she might as well try to start some kind of conversation. Besides, she needed to borrow some money and her dad was usually willing as long as she was pleasant in the morning.

"So... new neighbours, hey?" Her head dipped down as she took a sip of coffee, but after a prolonged silence, her gaze moved back up, surprised to see that her dad looked confused.

"Since when?" He questioned, knife lifted in the air, as if he had paused half-way through buttering his toast.

"Like... two days ago? Some guy around my age and the rest of his family." She wasn't actually sure how many people were living there, but she assumed. Besides, she didn't want to let on how interested she was in the fact that they now had neighbours, after the house had been abandoned for so long.

"Really? That's... interesting. Didn't even see a for sale sign." Hearing this, Violet tried to wrack her mind for any memory of the house being put up for sale. As far as everyone in the neighbourhood knew, it was just an abandoned house. No one even took care of the garden or cleaned the drains. But yet, there were people living there now. And her dad was too much of a drunk anyways to have a valid opinion. He could barely remember his own last name some nights, so why would she count on his memory for this?

"Right... Well, anyway. Can I borrow a twenty?" She decided to just jump while she was ahead. The happy family facade was quickly disintegrating in front of her eyes, while her father continued to annoy the hell out of her. Might as well get the money before she pissed him off somehow.

He hesitated for a moment before he sighed, pulling out a twenty from his pocket, sliding it across the table.

"Don't spend it on cigarettes."

"Thanks dad. You know I won't." She smiled a bit, eyes resisting the urge to roll as she patted his hand, grabbed the money alongside her coffee before sliding off the chair, making her way to her room once more. The talk of cigarettes had reminded her that she had forgotten those on her dresser and it was always a bad day when she forgot those.

However, once she reached her dresser, her fingers curled around the pack but her attention was drawn to something right beside them. Frowning, she let go of the smokes and reached over for it, lifting it up. It was a playing card, that had been resting on a brand new pack of cigarettes. More specifically, the queen of hearts. Flipping it over, she read the slightly messy printing on the back.

You said I owed you.