Tate Langdon / Evan Peters One Shots

Little Gaurdian Angel

Tate's POV

I knew I shouldn't have come to school today.

The guidance counselor pulled Constance (my dreadful mother), aside the other day and explained to her that I'd have to repeat junior year if I miss anymore school.

Frankly, I don't give a fuck, but my mom does. Not because she cares about me, but because she cares about her reputation.

Who would want a son that has to repeat a grade?

I was just trying to get a book out of my locker, which is exactly what I was doing the last time this circle jerk band of boys started ripping on me.

"You're fucking creepy as shit," one of them sneers.

"Why'd you start coming to school, huh?" One pushes me back into the lockers, practically spitting on me as he speaks, I drop my book.

"planning on shooting it up or something? Huh?"

I wasn't.

A boy wearing a baseball cap backwards grabs my arm by the wrist, yanking down the sleeve of my sweater to reveal my scars from cutting. I whimper, desperately trying to cover them out of embarrassment, but the third boy grabs my free arm, preventing me from defending myself.

"Oh look, he cuts himself." Backwards-cap spits, "kill yourself, next time."

"Yeah. Nobody would miss you, murder-house mad boy." A good play on words, I'll give him that. It hurts nonetheless though, nobody wants to be told to kill themselves.

"What the fuck, Gabriel!" Y/N, a very pretty girl who attends the school, surprisingly comes to my defense. The boy holding my wrist in the air falters.

"Y/N..." he pauses, "we're just having some fun with this moron."

"He's not a moron!" She rebuttals, and my cheeks grow red.

Y/N and I were friends, she would sit with me at lunch sometimes, or stop to talk to me when she saw me outside my house. We live on the same block, I spend a lot of my time secretly watching her, not in a creepy way, but in an admirable way.

I sort of have a huge crush on Y/N.

"Why are you sticking up for him?" Gabrielle- or whatever the fuck his name is, turns his attention to Y/N, releasing my wrist. I immediately pull my sweater back over my wrists.

"I like Tate," she crosses her arms, "he is a great guy, very sensitive and personable, the kind of guy I enjoy talking to; unlike you."

Gabe scoffs.

"Don't mock people's self harm," Y/N sneers as she reaches out and grabs my forearm, "he's just trying to go to school."

"Y/N-" Gabriel attempts to collect her attention, but she retaliates by flashing him a nasty look.

He shuts the fuck up.

With that, she gently tugs me away from my locker, pulling me out of the nearest exit and silently leading me away from the school, the three boys protesting in the background. Once the doors close behind us, before she says anything, she stops in front of me, re-rolling up the sleeves I had seconds ago tugged down my arms. Her gentle hold on my wrists sends goosebumps up my arms, and I feel the desire to touch her taking over me, as it usually did when I was around her.

Her fingertips are soft as they drag gently down my wrist, tracing my scars, looking at them with agony.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" She whispers, still holding onto my wrist as she looks up to meet my eyes.