Our Love Is Tainted

Chapter 8: Tainted Markings

I drag the still exhausted Tate into my room, shutting the door behind us as quick as possible. I sit him on the bed, and grab a rag, using it to wipe any of the blood from his face, body and anywhere else Thaddeus managed to hurt him. I turn on the light, starring at his fists, wrists, anywhere he could have hurt himself, but of course, that makes no sense, if he was hurting himself, I wouldn't know by now, he would already be healed. The only obvious marks is Thaddeus' blood, and the bruises on his hands, but then, the markings catch my attention. The web-like markings on his hands, his dark nails, it's beautiful, like a necessary evil. I stare up at Tate, noticing the skeleton markings on his neck, and how surreal it looks, so surreal. I slowly follow my eyes straight to his, enjoying the sight of his dark eyes, and his luscious skeleton lips. I can feel myself blushing at the sight of his lips, admiring the dark angelic look of my lost lover, and the form Taint had made the new Tate into; an angel with an obvious and absolute dark soul. He's like the Mad Hatter from Wonderland, he looks mad but in complete control, he seems depressed but somehow managing to hold his emotions together.

"So surreal," I say, forgetting that Tate is in the room.
"Scary, huh? Not only am I dead now, but look at me-"
"You're beautiful, I can't describe how beautiful you are, Tate."
"But I'm a monster, you saw what I did," Tate pauses, a tear rolling down his cheek. "You saw the way I was two months ago, I tried to hurt you, kill you even. I can't do that again, Vi, I just can't."
"Then you won't, you're the one in control, remember that," I tell him, a little snappy. "Doesn't matter how long, worst comes to worst, we'll have to come up with another plan, one that doesn't involve you leaving again, you understand?"
"Yes, Vi, I do."
"Good."

The tattoos, they appear to be battle scars from some form of a nightmare, the nightmare of what Tate has mentioned in his sleep, the Noble War. My father explained to me that the Noble War was the day he shot up his school, and that explained that in one of his psychologist sessions. I wouldn't be able to understand what he sees in his dreams, and something inside of me doesn't really want to know. Tate has had a dysfunctional life, that's clearer than the clearest of skies, and better yet, he's managed to find a way through it all, through the sadness, through the anger, and at times, through the pain. He's damaged, but not broken, not anymore, I'm here to help him, but first, I have to find out how far the essence of Taint's evil goes. I place my fingers along Tate's lips, feeling how soft they are, and realising how much I've missed them. I lean in, placing my lips on his, tasting his lips once again, and now I know, what perfection feels like.

"Stop," Tate says, grabbing my wrist, tightly. "Please."
"Tate," I say. "You're hurting me."
He lets go of my wrist quickly, turning his head away from me in what seems like disgust. He appears to have snapped out of another trance, a possible encounter with his second self, but that doesn't terrify me in any way. He tries to take himself from the bed, but I grip his shirt and rip him back onto the bed.
"I'm sorry, Vi, I didn't mean to-"
"Take your shirt off."
"What?" Tate asks.
"Take off your shirt."
He slowly takes off his shirt, revealing the marks on his pale skin and how far Taint's evil has really gone. He appears demonic but is really as soft as an angel, and the love that comes with the angelic tone of his skin is piercing. I stare at him with love, discovering how much I've missed his love, and how selfish I've been. How cruel do I have to be, to make him suffer? How selfish did I have to be, to let him be alone? Oh, Tate, please forgive me.

"I'm sorry, Vi. I'm not going anywhere, I swear to you."
"I believe you, Tate."
I stare into Tate's eyes, watching him as he licks his lips, biting it until it bleeds. I lunge at him, kissing him very aggressively, pushing him onto the bed. I tear my own shirt off, revealing my black lacy bra as I sit on Tate's lap. He smiles, showing me that even through the markings, there is happiness. He leans up, kissing my breasts and pushing back onto the bed.
"Vi, before we do anything, I just need to tell you something," he leans back up, holding me down playfully. "I'm going to have to find a way to release me from Taint's grasp, and I don't want to be a threat, so I think I'm going to have to do it-"
"You're not doing it alone, I won't let you, my family won't let you. We're going to fight this, together."
"Yes, ma'am," Tate agrees, leaning down and kissing me again, but this time on my neck. "I love you, Vi."
"I love you too, Tate Langdon."

I feel him creep on the edge of my neck, and I wonder to myself, why I ever decided to let him go. Taint inside of him or not, I'm going to save him, save his soul the best way I possibly can. I owe Tate, more than I've ever owed to anyone in my entire life, I did this to him, and now, I'm going to have to be the one to save him from it, from himself, and the voices that hide inside of his head. As I purr like a kitten at his touch, I wonder, if this all began due to Constance's lack of care as a mother, how bad she treated Tate just because he was the "purest" of her children. Tate's tongue distracts me from the thoughts, cutting me from the fog my train of thought is going through, God loves him. I feel his hot breath on my lips, and that's when I know I'm going to lose it soon, lose control, just like the first time. I swear at the feeling of his hardness, and I finally begin to let go. I unzip my jeans...