Thanks so much for the reply's, follows/fav's , so appreciated!
Staring up at the ceiling in her small bare room Violet followed a substantial crack that split off into two separate crevices before hitting the brick wall opposite her bed.
It was a metaphor for her life, brick wall and all, a deep penetrating void full of fear and loneliness fractured by a decision that would end her father, and his path of abuse.
She saw the two meandering cracks as possible roads her life could take her.
One would continue on with the world she was familiar with filled with self-destruction, grasping at whatever she could to numb the abyss of pain by self-medicating and mutilation.
While the other provided a dim but visible guiding light out of the darkness, where she would finally discover what it means to be loved, and to love in return.
Unfortunately the resounding voice that was banging around in her mind at the moment was that of Dr. Arden as she thought about his cold grey eyes staring down at her looming already with disappointment and disgust.
His accusing glare flickered between her on her knees cleaning up the instruments she had knocked over and up at Tate with a gleam of obsessive ownership.
It was chilling how he scanned every inch of him as if he was trying to identify something out of place, there was no doubt that Tate was at the mercy of this man, whether he was aware of it or not.
'Clean this room up, and meet me in my office immediately, there are urgent matters we need to discuss.'
She could still feel the cold wood beneath her sitting across from his oversized mahogany desk as she pulled nervously on her cuffs making sure her scars could not be seen.
There were no introductions; it was obvious that Sister Jude had consulted with him explaining in grave detail Violet's very precarious situation.
'Tell me Ms. Harmon, are you serious about your position here at Briarcliff, because I have not the time nor patience for anything less than your complete devotion, this is my life's work, not a place for you to hold up until something better comes along. If that is what you are interested in then I suggest a seedy but suitable boarding house by the docks, I'm sure they could always use a new barmaid at the local watering hole.'
A world wind of responses raced through her mind from listing her extensive qualifications to telling him to fuck off for being such a monstrous dick on her first day, if only her mouth was a quick as she parted her lips several times only to fall short of actually speaking.
'A simple yes or no will suffice Ms. Harmon, I don't have all day.'
She was mesmerized by his intimidating, penetrating stare that seemed to slice right through her revealing all her inner demons that she was usually so careful to hide.
'Y-yes, I assure you I am one hundred percent – '
'You may go, that is all I need to hear for the time being, you are dismissed from Tate's responsibilities for tonight, the day nurse took care of everything before you arrived.'
Nodding towards the door in an obvious request for her departure, Dr. Arden waved her away with a flutter of his long boney fingers, which in her mind she imagined breaking into pieces with a large iron hammer her father always kept in the shed behind their house.
Only she no longer had a father, or a house, not even the hammer that hung in that shed her entire life, which was still a reality she was finding difficult to accept.
As she wrapped her hand around the doorknob he called out to her as he lifted a large window open behind his desk inviting a strong gust of frosty December wind to sting the back of her neck sending a chill down her spine.
'I hope I don't have to remind you, Ms. Harmon, that Tate Langdon is in a comatose state, therefore has no need for comforting, or at the very least inappropriate affections from the likes of a lonely little girl whose looking for the opportunity to fill the void left by her recently departed daddy.
His biting sarcasm and demeaning condescension cut into her like the razor she intended on using on her arm as soon as she got into her room.
The shock of his words combined with the mere fact he had caught her in such a private and intimate moment with Tate was both humiliating and insulting beyond comprehension.
This time her answer came swift and clear as she kept her eyes locked in front of her not dignifying him with the response he was looking for.
'I prefer you refer to me as Violet, Mrs. Harmon is my grandmother. Good night Dr. Arden.'
… and fuck you sideways with a pitchfork
A small satisfying grin edged its way along her mouth recalling her quick reaction to his belittling attempt to embarrass her while simultaneously putting her in her place; it was clearly evident he had no idea who he was dealing with.
When you spend years in a dance with the devil you eventually learn how to lead.
vTv
It was only her second night but Violet was quickly catching on how to avoid the other nurses and orderlies.
She never played well with others and this job was no exception, she definitely felt more comfortable by herself off in her own little world.
Every now and again she'd catch an ear full of gossip as she walked by the break room, but she wasn't interested, what did consume her every thought though was seeing Tate again.
In fact she had organized her patients very efficiently, albeit thoroughly, so that she could finish all her work before her half hour break at three am, that way the rest of her shift could be devoted to finding more about the beautiful boy behind Frankenstein's door.
Impatiently she finished off a row of Ritz crackers that she snagged from a cabinet in the break room before making her way to the north side of the asylum.
The box was clearly marked 'Melissa', which was the name of a girl from sixth grade that would endlessly bully her until she eventually snapped grabbing a pair of scissors off the teacher's desk to cut off her ponytail.
Violet was sent to private school after that, but rumors flew about the incident, needless to say no one bothered her after that day.
Somehow the similar name released her of any guilt she might have had taking her food; Violet clearly had a very askew sense of right and wrong.
Walking soundlessly down the curved hallway as it turned from bright pale green walls to dark damp brick she slowly approached Dr. Arden's office hoping not to see that little sliver of light from beneath his door.
An unusual gasp of happiness slipped through her lips as darkness flooded the floor in front of his room.
The only light came from very dim electric candelabras set high on the walls that she imagined at one point held real candles spreading out ten feet apart that looked as if they belonged in Dracula's castle.
After successfully unlocking the three individual bolts to his thick iron door she slowly pushed it open almost expecting the young man to be sitting up waiting for her.
Warmth immediately spread throughout her body and places south as he came into view once again.
The effect he had on her was overwhelming; the connection she felt was immediate, she was already ferociously protective over him.
Pressing her hands down the front of her uniform she reached for a large bin filling it with warm water, convincing herself that she had a job to do, that she needed to put whatever this was to the side for the moment.
Ringing out a wash cloth she rubbed a good amount of soap along it before gently smoothing it over his collar bone, making her way up one side of his neck than the other.
She had done this chore for all her assigned patients that night but for some reason with him it felt different, personal, as if she wanted him to somehow know that he was safe in her care, that he mattered to her on a deeper level.
Tenderly she repeated rinsing, wringing, soaping up the wash cloth several times cleaning his flawless porcelain skin as if he were precious to her.
Washing, drying his chest, face and arms she moved down to his feet lifting his leg to carefully drape one than the other with the sheet being sure not to pull on the shackles attached to his ankles.
With each stroke she felt herself becoming more and more attached to him, emotionally invested in him to the point where it was starting to affect her physically.
Gazing over her shoulder making sure the door was securely closed and locked this time she moved up towards his waist where the sheet stretched across his hips.
Once again strands of her honey colored hair had falling out of its tight bun forcing her to blow them away from her eyes and mouth.
Turning away from him she emptied the used water filling it back up again as she wiped the sweat from her brow.
It was unbearably warm in his room so much so that she once again threw caution to the wind and released those five pesky buttons that had been suffocating her all night.
Placing the bin on the cart near the bed she once again glared down at the restraints tying him to the metal frame.
Running her fingers over the cuffs she realized they called for a special key, one that she did not possess.
Breathing out she felt it was inhuman to do such things, especially to someone in a coma, for some reason especially to him.
Without thinking, running on pure need, she reached out and skimmed the tips of her fingers along his lower abdomen just above the sheet.
His skin was like velvet, warm and soft, her wide inquisitive eyes lifted up to his sleeping relaxed face focusing on the sudden change in his breathing.
The steady even breaths from before were now becoming more uneven and shuddered as if he was aware of what she was doing.
Back and forth she continued her very gentle caresses, not caring any longer if what she was doing was inappropriate or not.
She felt as if somehow they were sharing this experience together, locked in the privacy of each other's minds, far from the strangers that busied themselves on the other side of the institute.
At one point it became unclear as to where his skin began and hers ended, an experience new to Violet, something she was sure in that moment she could never have shared with anyone else.
What should have felt wildly immoral seemed inexplicably right as if he needed her touch like air to his lungs.
Becoming bolder, recalling his tight grip on her hand from the night before, she slipped her fingertips underneath the sheet grazing the sensitive skin there lightly, purposefully as his breathing increased in speed and volume.
At this point he wasn't alone; her shaky breath also filled the room alongside his as she folded the sheet down revealing the very real reaction to her ministrations.
She had confirmed her suspicions that every part of him was beautiful, like a sculpture at some museum in Europe, it was almost hard to look away.
Biting down hard on her bottom lip she was determined to remain as professional as possible as she eased the warm washcloth along his hard cock, doing her best to be thorough knowing that it wasn't unheard of for patients to react this way, even during a coma, it was a natural process, nothing out of the ordinary.
Except it was, and she knew it.
Taking a deep breath she covered him back up before whispering softly, unknowingly as the thoughts in her head made their way to her mouth.
"You felt that didn't you?"
Reaching down for a set of clean sheets, she turned back around to find his eyes open staring intensely up at her.
This time she didn't jump or jerk away, in fact she felt powerless to move at all taken in entirely, gloriously by the way he was looking at her.
His stare was as black as a starless night adding even more beauty to him as his pale skin seemed to almost glow in contrast.
It was almost as if he were desperately trying to communicate but was frozen within his own body, trapped by something out of his control, it was horribly disturbing and intensely erotic at the same time.
Unable to produce the words that were literally on the tip of his tongue he just stared, conveying all the emotion she had been feeling since she stepped into that room last night.
Looking away for a split second to gather herself and the clean sheets that had fallen to the floor, she gazed back to find his eyes closed again, as if nothing had happened.
Shaking her head in disbelief she covered her mouth feeling as if she were going insane, wondering if something inside her was so broken that she was now imagining him, hallucinating that he was there with her awake, falling for her as she was falling for him.
It wasn't the first time Violet had felt or seen him move in some capacity, but this was different, the connection in his eyes, the heat lifting from his skin, the ragged breath that staggered every time she touched him, this was real.
Softly she spoke out to him placing the bundle of clean sheets on the side of his body.
"Tate… Tate, can you hear me?"
Feeling like an idiot without a single sign from him, she breathed out hard in frustration as she leaned over him pulling his body up on his side against her chest before reaching over his mattress to pull off the dirty sheets.
Just as she was gathering the linens she heard a breathy request from his parted lips that brushed softly against her neck with each shocking word.
"Violet… help… me."