Fearing Rejection

Tate sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. A half-smoked cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, it had long ago went out and it was ashes halfway up. His mind raced with thoughts about Violet and all of the things he wished he could take back.

Memory after memory, dream after dream, hope after hope. He wanted so badly to apologize to her, but what would he say? What could he do? She HATED him.

"Dammit!" he screamed, slamming his fist against his leg in anger. He tried to shake the fear of losing her forever. Surely, his feelings weren't reciprocated, surely she loved him at least a little.

Tate fumbled with the white lighter he held in his hand. After clumsily relighting his cigarette he took a long drawl. He whipped his head around when he heard footsteps upstairs, coming for the stairs.

"Ah, shit," he slurred under his breath, silently he slipped out of the room and down to the basement.