crossovers.

Black Tears

|| tate x violet ||

"I was a hot mess. In my Sunday best. Black tears in my eyes."

Violet ran soundlessly from the basement to her cluttered bedroom. She had just found out, discreetly, about Tate and his secrets.

"Violet, let me explain, please. don't leave me." his voice echoed with longing and it took every ounce of violet's strength not to open the locked door and envelope him in an embrace.

He was the one who killed all those people now lurking around their house; the one who killed those kids in school without any valid reasons; the one who impregnated and killed her mother. How could she forgive someone like him?

She could not. She would not allow him to slip back in her life, or death, or eternal life span, or whatever the hell you call her situation.

Anyway, she ended things with him, despite the protest of her heart. Stupid heart and emotions!

|||

When May handed its responsibilities to June, a new family bought the infamous Murder House. It was a family of three, violet counted it herself.

She was standing and looking out from her window, merely studying the three new owners of the haunted building. A boy, who seemed to be her age, drew his gaze to where she stood.For a moment she forgot she was dead and scampered frantically around to hide her figure.

Once the family entered the house, violet rushed downstairs carefully, cautious about making sounds that might startle them.

They were setting up boxes upon boxes of belongings into their kitchen counter, which was the closest from the door. The Dad, which violet assumed was Mr. Ramos, told his son not to use his board inside in fear of scraping the vintage wood. Though, his son was a bit of a rebel, violet noticed.

He skidded in the dinning area, settled his board down, and mounted on it. He took a few glides before violet decided to somewhat make her presence known. She pulled the board as he was about to mount it once more and he fell on his ass. She chuckled silently as she saw his disheveled and startled state.

His dad rushed and poked his head in the room. Seeing his son on the floor, he shook his head and helped him up.

"Are you ok, Gabe?" he asked.

Gabe. the name echoed in her head like an orchestra piece being played in an empty theater; the sound was marvelous and she could not stop herself from gawking.

"You were my first love. You were my only one. I can't believe your lies."

On the far end of the hallway stood tate, carefully watching his girlfriend, he still refused to believe the fact that they were a done deal, fawn over the olive-skinned skater. She still had not allowed him to be near her and he was lucky enough to see her; her eyes, her lips, her hair.

There was a shuffling sound from behind him. A couple. They were talking about various things that sounded incoherent in tate's ears because of their thick accents. Out of nowhere, things started to get heat up and a few seconds later, both of them were tangled in knots by each other's limbs. He could not stand the view; it almost made him vomit. Having decided he better leave without scarring himself, he fled to god know's where.

|||

An upbeat song was playing, disk cases were scattered on the floor, and a brunette was standing over his shelf filled with his rare CDs and vinyls.

"Hello. Breaking and entering. Who are you?" he asked.

"A ghost of my former self," she replied cooly and continued on her search. She flipped his case and everything fell hard on the wooden floor, some cases cracked.