Vulnerability is by far something Tate does not want to show. He had fallen into the trap before. He feels his childlike part of his mind pull him to the verge of tears, but he drags the weight right along with him. He’s not going to give her what she wants, not yet. He can still play around with her, test her limits. It’s something he’s found an interest in doing more and more lately.
If Tate wasn’t so tangled in his emotions he could have grasped her shoulders and pushed her back right after he received another blow to the face. Instead he flinches, bringing his hand up to hold his jaw like the slap had misplaced it. Her words still echo in his mind, the verbal daggers snagging him.
Why’d you do it? He is tired of hearing the question over and over again. Why, Tate? Why? What brought you to it? So many people have asked this to him lately than anything else, and the question is driving him up a wall. Either it is the consistency of the question or the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to think of an answer, he has started to hate the statement.
He wipes his mouth with his hand, blood smearing along his palm. Langdon swallows, a distasteful expression captivating his features at the taste of the blood before he focuses his attention back on Violet, on the question she left lingering in the air. He wavers over it but passes it on, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
“Funny how you could turn this on me, Violet, when all the while you were all over the poor boy. He could barely keep his dick in his pants, could he? Those little looks, those cute remarks and gestures,” he pauses, a smile forming on his bloody lips. “That isn’t the innocent Violet I knew of. You’d never change yourself for a boy, at least to get his attention.”
He sounds almost as if he’s accusing her of something, stopping once more to wipe his mouth again. “Unless,” he cooes, his eyes flashing with pleasure at his own words, “Unless it wasn’t him you were acting that way for. Maybe it was for someone else. That would be sad, though, wouldn’t it?”
Hanging around Hayden more than usual, aren’t we? By the way he is speaking to Violet, it can be guessed that the devil has spent his latest time with the very girl that took part in messing up Violet’s family. It is this that makes him feel closer to himself; at least the two had the blame across their shoulders, the weight that they had been the major contributions towards fucking up the Harmon family. What a weight to carry.
The flower has no remorse for her actions, and the sight of his eyes filling with tears almost made her laugh. It was one of his few talents, apart from fucking around with people, the way he could make himself cry, or seem like the victim in the situation when really it had been his fault from beginning to end. There was no part of her that believed his tears were genuine, and she wasn't going to let herself believe that they were, no matter how much that expression would've broken her heart when they'd been together. At least that chapter of her life was long over with, and any feelings like that had been extinguished.
Violet knew that it had hurt; her hand was stinging from the blow she'd delivered to his cheek. But that's what she was going for, and another ounce of satisfactory filled her when he brought his hand to his jaw. It almost made her feel proud that she could cause him some sort of pain, even if it never really would equate to the amount of pain he'd inflicted on others. Of course, any pain she could inflict on him physically wouldn't last - it was one of the many things she hated about ghosts, especially in situations like these.
The blood seeping from his mouth and onto his hand only fuels her further, glad that she had some sort of effect on him with her harsh slap, excited that it had been enough to cause him to bleed. But blood... Wasn't that something that the psychopath enjoyed? Really, he shouldn't be mad at her for it; she's only giving him what he likes. Or is it different when the pain is on his end? Surely the sadist was also a masochist, wasn't he? If he wasn't, it only made it even better - she didn't want to give him anything he'd enjoy, after all.
Her mouth drops open a little bit at his words, shocked he has the guts to make such a comment when she's the one with power over him right now. Of course, there's nothing stopping Tate from hitting her back; it's not like he's restrained in any way. But Violet's anger gives her the upper hand, the hatred only making her more enraged, and therefore filling her with more strength than him. Plus, she already had the first few hits in, so he was already injured. As long as she kept hurting him before he could heal, she wasn't worried about him.
Violet almost defended herself, claiming that she'd only hung off her boyfriend like that to get back at Tate for ruining her perfect night, but his comment about how pathetic it would be made her pause, her face reddening slightly as she looked away. It was pathetic on her end, but it was kind of pathetic on Tate's, too, wasn't it? He clearly felt jealousy because of it, enough to make him almost lose his calm act in the ice-cream shop.
"Get off your fucking high horse, Tate. I wasn't acting that way for you," It was a lie, and she was positive that they both knew it, but she wasn't going to admit it to him. "And don't say that. You don't know me, so don't act like you do. You're the only guy you've seen me with besides Skylar. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I was acting that way around him because I like him more than I ever liked you?" She spat, crossing her arms over her chest.
Yet, his words hadn't really surprised her. Sure, they were Hayden-esque, but he was an asshole who would do anything to hurt someone, even if it meant a few harsh words, or condescending mocking because she'd changed just a little bit to get to him the way he got to her. She never acted like that around Skylar before Halloween night, and she doubted she'd act like that again, and hopefully Skylar knew that, so he wasn't expecting anything of her.
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