Tag You're It || Tate Langdon [American Horror Story]

OPEN HOUSE

"Good. I like it deep," she said lustfully. "You'd have to dig up the entire yard."

Peter chuckled at the man flirting with Moira as Marcy spoke, "Uh, Mr. Escandarian, would you like to see the rest of the house?"

"Actually, I just have one question: what's wrong with this place?" The man asked. "The land alone is worth as much as you're asking."

"Mrs. Harmon is a motivated seller," Marcy said.

"Um, and I would also like to be candid with you that this house has a history that I find troubling. The people who lived here before died here, violently, and apparently, they weren't the only ones," Vivien told him.

"Yeah, me," Peter remarked but only Moira heard him to which she smacked his arm in a motherly scold. "What?" he asked her.

"...So I just want to be very straightforward with you about that, if you are in fact interested," Vivien finished.

"I am interested," the man told her. "If it looks like you're going to get a serious offer before you hear from me, let me know." He handed her a business card. "I'll be in touch."

"I'll see you to the door," Moira told him. "If you decide soon, you might have your pool by summer."

"Wow, it does work," he told Tate who saw him from the walkway near the door.

"Told you," Tate replied.

Peter approached. "I guess being dead isn't completely awful," he stated before pressing a long kiss to Tate's lips.

Tate was the first to pull away. "I know you're against it but maybe you should tell Violet that-"

Peter immediately shook his head. "No, she can't handle it. She reacts differently to stuff than I do."

"You won't know until-"

"Tate, I love you but I've made up my mind," Peter replied.

Ever since that day they died, Peter had told Violet that Tate was a different person and that they have no reason to be scared of him.

She believed her brother and the three of them had slowly become a small group of friends.

Tate had decided to let that go as they both went upstairs.

"I'm going to check on her," Peter told Tate but her room was empty. He moved to the bathroom where the door was wide open. Violet was standing in front of the mirror, drawing the blade across her arm. "Dammit, Vi! Stop!" he told her. Violet turned to look at him as he approached her. "Let me see that."

Peter grabbed the blade, tossing it into a small trashcan nearby before turning on the sink to wash away the blood since he knew the wound would heal in a few minutes.

"Why are you getting so mad?" Violet asked him.

"Because it's gross," he replied. "You're mutilating yourself."

"You do it too," she fired back.

Peter pulled his shirt sleeve to show that his scars on his upper arm were years old, not fresh like hers. "Not anymore," he told her before grabbing her wrists. "Vi, promise me you'll never cut yourself again. And this time, mean it."