Full fanfictions of Evan Peters characters in AHS. Some will possibly follow the episodes of each season.
Season 1 - Tate Langdon Murder House
In which a shy, muted girl moves next door to a creepy home
Or
In which Tate Langdon found the love he nev...
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Sally had loved her time with Tate. There wasn't a time that you didn't find them together.
They couldn't be separated. Sally couldn't believe someone loved her. It was insane to her and she had been dwelling on it for the past day.
She had seen Tate for an hour the day before but had been laying in bed moping over how unlovable she was.
She couldn't believe he loved her. Why would he love her? She was broken and she couldn't find anything that he could love.
Did she love him? Was it too soon? What if she scared him off? Was she being too much?
She had been thinking these kind of things for hours as she stared at her glow in the dark stars. She felt the need to harm herself but was trying not to. She hadn't for 5 days. She had a gone that long in a while.
Sally cried, squeezing her arm hard. She was stuck between being better and feeling the pain that she thought she deserved.
She slugged herself up, pushing her hair back, she pulled her pajama shirt down. She sighed.
She headed to the bathroom and locked the door, turning on the shower quite hot.
She got her razor and got in the shower after getting undressed. She cut everywhere she had ever cut before.
Sally sobbed as she sat in the tub, blood washing down the drain as the water burned her. Her cuts stung. It was the worse she had ever done to herself.
Sally climbed out of the tub and sobbed to herself as she placed her towel down and layed on it. She sobbed harder, at the pain, at the anger, at the sadness.
Why did she do it? She couldn't stop herself and she was so angry she done this to herself. To Tate.
○
Sally layed back in bed. She hadn't cleaned herself. Just thrown her pajamas back on, dried blood all over it.
She just didn't have the energy to care for herself. She missed Tate and wanted him to come round. But she didn't want him to see her like this.
She had her covers over her body, her head peaking out as she stared blankly to her ceiling.
She heard a knock on her window and looked to her balcony. It was Tate, her eyes widened. He couldn't see her like this. She hadn't cleaned up. She was a mess.
Sally frowned, then she nodded and motioned to Tate that it was open. Tate pulled it open and walked slowly in.
He hadn't heard from her and he was extremely worried. He knew what she done to herself and hoped it hadn't happened.
"I haven't heard from you. I was worried." Tate stated as he looked at Sally from the end of her bed.
"I'm okay." She whispered to Tate. "I'm a bit... sad."
