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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐅𝐔𝐋

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Sunshine lay sprawled across her bed, her head gently rising and falling with the rhythm of Tate's breathing as it rested on his chest. His fingers moved slowly through her hair, each stroke calming but also sending a ripple of questions through her mind. 

She stared absently at the wall, now burdened with the knowledge that Tate had been aware of his death all along. A creeping confusion tugged at her, pulling her deeper into thought.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly.

Tate's fingers briefly paused, as if her question had jolted him from his own thoughts. "Hmm?" he murmured, his hand shifting from her hair to her shoulder, pulling her slightly closer.

"That you knew... that you were dead," Sunshine clarified.

Tate took a long, deep breath, his chest expanding beneath her cheek. "Hey, I'm Tate. I'm dead... wanna hookup?" he quipped, his lips twitching into a half-smile. He shook his head softly. "I don't think so."

A small, involuntary smile tugged at Sunshine's lips at the absurdity of his joke, though it quickly faded as darker thoughts crept in. Her mind flashed back to the article she had found—the one about him, about the tragic way he had died... and why.

She hesitated before asking the question that had been gnawing at the edges of her consciousness. "Do you remember how you died?" Her voice was quieter now, fearing the answer but needing to know all the same.

There was a long stretch of silence. 

"Nope," he finally answered, his voice flat and emotionless.

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As the year drew to a close, Sunshine sat at her desk, diligently filling out her Juilliard application. Her pen glided across the form, carefully filling in each section, working to ensure no detail was overlooked. She still had a couple of months before the deadline, but the weight of her dreams pushed her to stay ahead. 

A faint knock at the door pulled her from her focused haze. She glanced up to see Violet standing in the doorway, her familiar face tinged with the same melancholy that always lingered since the truth of her death had surfaced. Every time Sunshine looked at her sister, a pang of grief shot through her chest. 

Violet was forever trapped in this house, while Sunshine still had the chance to move forward—to leave. The guilt gnawed at her heart whenever she even thought about the future, let alone spoke about it.

"What are you doing?" Violet asked as she stepped into the room, her eyes flickering to the papers on Sunshine's desk.

Sunshine glanced awkwardly down at her application, feeling a sudden wave of discomfort. "Oh, um," she hesitated, her fingers tightening around the pen, "it's my application for Juilliard."

Violet's gaze stayed on the papers before she frowned slightly. "I thought those weren't due till January?"

"Yeah," Sunshine shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, "just wanna make sure everything's perfect."

Violet's eyes softened as she looked at the form, the sadness in her expression deepening. "Being dead kind of makes me miss school," she muttered, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Sunshine's heart clenched, a flood of guilt rising in her throat. "I'm sorry, Vi," she whispered loud enough to carry across the room.

Violet leaned against the doorframe, resting her head against the wood, her face unreadable. "Don't be," she said with a sad smile, shrugging it off. "I did it to myself."

Sunshine tried to return the smile, but it felt forced, hollow. She didn't know what to say—how to comfort her sister when the truth hung between them.

Violet sighed, the mood shifting. "Mom wanted me to tell you... the cunt is here." Her voice dripped with disdain as she crossed her arms.

Sunshine's brow furrowed in confusion. "Aunt Jo?"

"Yup," Violet replied, her eyes rolling dramatically.

Sunshine let out a deep sigh, setting her pen down with a soft clatter before standing. The two sisters headed down the stairs, their footsteps in sync as they approached the living room. Vivien sat on the couch, mid-conversation with Aunt Jo, whose overly familiar voice filled the air like nails on a chalkboard.

"There they are!" Aunt Jo's voice chimed as she spotted them, immediately making a beeline for Sunshine. The woman's presence was overwhelming, her perfume thick and her demeanor scrutinizing.

"Hey, Aunt Jo," Sunshine forced out, her voice stiff but polite, masking the irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

Aunt Jo grasped Sunshine by the elbows, her sharp eyes scanning her as if assessing her from head to toe. Her gaze lingered a little too long on Sunshine's body, her lips pursed in an expression of disapproval.

"Oh my," Aunt Jo finally said, her tone heavy with judgment. "You've definitely gained a few."

Sunshine felt the heat rise to her face. Her smile faltered as she instinctively glanced down at herself, feeling self-conscious. She'd struggled with her body ever since everything had happened, and despite no longer being pregnant, the weight hadn't disappeared as she'd hoped. 

"Joanna!" Vivien snapped, her voice sharp with disapproval, glaring at her sister.

Aunt Jo turned slightly, feigning innocence as she glanced over her shoulder at Vivien. "What?" she said, as if she had done nothing wrong. 

She turned her attention back to Sunshine, who stood there trying not to let the comment fester, but the insecurity clawed at her chest. Aunt Jo had always been dramatic, but that didn't stop her words from stinging.

"Well, sweetie, I suppose it happens to the best of us, doesn't it? Life just catches up, especially when you're not... you know, keeping an eye on things," she said with a tight-lipped smile, her eyes flicking down to Sunshine's midsection. "But no need to worry, dear. There are always solutions for these things." 

Sunshine bit the inside of her cheek as she fought to maintain her composure. She knew what Aunt Jo was doing—this wasn't new. Every visit was laced with these backhanded comments, always finding some way to make Sunshine feel like she wasn't enough.

"I'm fine, really," Sunshine said, her voice strained but polite. "Just focusing on my music and school."

Aunt Jo's lips curled into a thin smile. "Good to hear. We were all a little... concerned for a while, you know? With everything that happened last year."

Sunshine's heart dropped into her stomach. 

Aunt Jo glanced back at her sister. "You know, Viv, it must've been so hard for you to handle everything back then—what with Sunshine going off the rails like that. Pills are no joke, after all."

Sunshine stiffened as a wave of shame washed over her. She could still remember those days—when everything felt like it was crumbling around her. Her baby brother was born dead, her family barely holding it together, and the pressure from every angle had pushed her to the brink. Pills became her escape. She was desperate for a way to silence the noise in her head, to numb the constant ache.

She still struggled with it sometimes, the urge lurking in the corners of her mind, even now. But having Aunt Jo bring it up like this, in front of everyone, made her feel exposed and raw, like the room had tilted, leaving her off-balance.

Vivien's voice cut through, cold and controlled. "Joanna, that's enough."

But Aunt Jo was already in full swing, ignoring the warning. "I just think it's important to keep an eye on these things. After all, stealing your own father's prescription pad to get pills... that's a serious cry for help."

Violet scoffed at Aunt Jo's words. "Seriously? leave her alone," 

Aunt Jo turned her sharp gaze toward Violet. "Oh, Violet, sweetheart, I'm not trying to upset anyone. I'm just trying to be helpful."

"Sure you are," Violet deadpanned, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "Because that's what you're known for, being helpful."

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The dining table was laden with the comforts of a Thanksgiving meal—turkey golden and crisp, mashed potatoes whipped smooth, stuffing fragrant with herbs, and a boat of thick gravy.

Sunshine sat stiffly, her hands folded in her lap as she stared at the plates of food that had long since lost their appeal. Her mind drifted as Vivien and Aunt Jo's conversation floated across the table. They were deep in talk, reminiscing about their childhood, though it seemed less about fond memories and more about the ghosts that lingered in them.

Sunshine's grandmother had always been a source of pain—a woman musically gifted but ruthless in her expectations. She'd once told Sunshine that she would never be good enough, never live up to the talent the family supposedly carried. 

Those words had carved a scar deep in Sunshine's heart, one that still bled, even as she worked relentlessly to prove her wrong. Her mother had eventually bowed out of the pressure, only playing music now and then for fun. But Sunshine couldn't let go. She couldn't let her grandmother win. Not in memory, not in spirit. She had to keep fighting to prove herself, no matter how hard it was.

She glanced at Vivien who seemed at ease in the conversation, though a faint edge of bitterness lingered in her voice when their mother was mentioned.

Beside Vivien, Aunt Jo laughed, her cackle grating against Sunshine's nerves. She turned toward her father who sat awkwardly at the far end of the table, nursing his glass of wine. He kept taking sips, his eyes darting nervously between his wife and her sister, as if unsure how to insert himself into the conversation without causing a scene.

On the other side of the table, Violet was hunched over her plate, fork in hand but doing little more than pushing the food around in slow, disinterested circles. Her mashed potatoes had become a swirling mess of gravy, but she didn't seem to notice. 

Violet was still adjusting to her death. Yet here they all were, pretending things were normal, pretending life hadn't been turned upside down in the walls of this house.

Aunt Jo's laughter suddenly rose, pulling Sunshine back to the present. "I still can't believe you stayed with him... and moved into this house. You're stronger than me," Aunt Jo said, her tone full of passive-aggressive mirth as she gestured loosely toward Ben. 

Ben, sitting with a forced smile, waved a hand weakly, trying to maintain some semblance of grace. "Hey, Jo," he said, his voice strained as he leaned forward slightly. "I'm right here."

"Oh, I know, Ben." Aunt Jo didn't even bother to look at him, her eyes instead flicking back to Vivien, who offered a strained chuckle of her own, as if used to her sister's digs. "I'm just saying, Viv deserves a medal for putting up with... well, everything."

The subtext wasn't lost on Sunshine. Aunt Jo had always held a quiet disdain for her father, the psychiatrist husband who, in her eyes, never quite measured up. And moving into the infamous Murder House only seemed to cement her low opinion of him. 

The snide remarks about his profession, his choices—none of it was new, but tonight they seemed sharper, crueler. Maybe it was the wine.

Sunshine looked back down at her plate, her appetite long gone. It was supposed to be a family dinner, but the air felt oppressive. She could feel Violet's silent frustration simmering beside her. Sunshine knew they'd both rather be anywhere else, doing anything else than sitting through this disaster.

She finally let out a quiet breath, forcing herself to say something, anything, to diffuse the growing tension. "So, Aunt Jo," she began, her voice calm but brittle, "how's work been?" It was a flimsy attempt, but anything to steer the conversation away from her father.

Aunt Jo turned her sharp gaze toward Sunshine, raising an eyebrow. "Work's fine, dear. Busy, as always. But thank you for asking." There was a pause, and her eyes flicked down to Sunshine's plate before she added with a smile, "Though I do hope you're finding time for more... active pursuits. Sitting at a desk all day isn't great for the waistline, you know."

Sunshine's jaw clenched as the familiar sting of her aunt's words settled in. Before she could respond, Violet let out a loud, exaggerated sigh and set her fork down with a clatter. "For the love of god, can we not talk about waistlines for five minutes?" she snapped, her voice dripping with irritation.

Aunt Jo blinked in surprise, but before she could retort, Vivien intervened, her voice tight and controlled. "Alright, let's all just calm down. It's supposed to be a nice dinner."

"Is it?" Violet muttered under her breath, stabbing her fork into her mashed potatoes with a little more force than necessary.

Sunshine stood abruptly from the table, the tension in the room too suffocating to endure any longer. "I'll be right back," she mumbled, not bothering to wait for anyone's response. Her chair scraped loudly against the hardwood floor as she stepped away from the table.

She moved quickly into the kitchen, the low hum of her mother's voice carrying faintly from the dining room as she skillfully redirected the conversation back to safer topics. Sunshine barely registered it, her focus solely on escaping the negative energy behind her. 

Without thinking, she slipped into the pantry, the small space offering a moment of solitude. She shut the door behind her, cutting off the outside world.

Sunshine pressed her back against the cool wall, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, letting the stillness wrap around her. But before she could fully calm down, the door creaked open, and Tate slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind him.

Sunshine's eyes snapped open, wide and surprised. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Don't worry," Tate reassured in a low voice, "they can't see me unless I want them to."

Before she could respond, he was already advancing on her, his presence filling the small space as he closed the distance between them. Her back pressed further against the pantry wall as he leaned in, towering over her. 

Sunshine tilted her head up to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, hungry, staring at her as if he wanted to devour her whole.

Realization hit her all at once, her cheeks flushing with heat.  "My family is in the next room, Tate," 

"So," Tate murmured in reply, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He lowered his head, his lips brushing against the soft skin behind her earlobe. His hands slid to her waist, gently pulling her closer as he whispered against her ear, "You're upset... let me make you feel better."

Sunshine's mind raced, torn between the urge to pull away and the intoxicating pull of his presence. His lips lingered just behind her ear, and she could feel her defenses crumbling with every second he stood so close.

Tate's hand slipped down her side, his fingers brushing over the soft fabric of her dress before inching lower, teasing the edge of her hem. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path up her inner thigh, lifting the fabric of her dress.

She bit her lip, trying to stifle the soft gasp that escaped her as his hand ventured higher. Her heart pounded in her chest, her body responding despite the voice in her head reminding her of the dining room just a few feet away.

"Tate..." she whispered but the words barely left her lips before his hand delved into her underwear, his fingers pressing gently into her clit. 

Sunshine's lips parted, a heated breath escaping as he maintained eye contact with her. Her hips instinctively pressed into his hand when he moved his fingers in a circular motion.

A soft moan escaped Sunshine's lips before she could stop it, the sound quickly stifled by Tate's hand as it pressed gently over her mouth. "Shh," he whispered as his other hand continued its slow, tantalizing movements. "You don't want them to hear, do you?" 

Tate's gaze remained locked on hers he watched every subtle shift of emotion flicker across Sunshine's face. His smirk grew wider, as her cheeks flushed deeper beneath his hand. He relished in the control, in the way her body responded to his touch, helplessly surrendering to the sensations he was creating.

His fingers moved with more urgency now, picking up speed as he rubbed her with deliberate precision. He could feel her hips instinctively roll into his hand, her body betraying her need despite the tense atmosphere. 

The sensation was overwhelming, her breath coming out in ragged gasps through her nose, muffled by the hand that silenced her. She could taste his skin, warm and rough against her lips, adding to the dizzying haze that clouded her mind.

Sunshine's hands pressed against the pantry wall, searching for something to steady herself as she felt her control slipping away. Her body responded on its own, caught in the rhythm he set, and she found herself lost in the intensity of it all—his hand, the darkness of his eyes watching her every reaction. 

The world outside the pantry seemed to fade away—the faint murmur of voices from the dining room, the clatter of dishes—it all blurred into the background, drowned out by the deafening rush of her own pulse and the intoxicating feeling of Tate's hands on her. 

Tate's hand slipped away from her mouth just as she reached the brink, replacing it with his lips in a fierce, silencing kiss. The moment his mouth met hers, Sunshine's legs began to tremble, the tension inside her unraveling all at once. 

A soft, muffled moan escaped her, melting into Tate's lips as her body surged with the overwhelming sensation.

She clung to him as the wave of release crashed over her, her chest heaved against his as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Tate didn't pull away, instead keeping his lips locked with hers, deepening the kiss as if feeding off her pleasure. 

As the last tremors faded, she pulled back from the kiss, her lips parted and swollen, her breathing still ragged. Tate stared down at her, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a satisfied grin. He wiped a stray lock of hair from her flushed face.

"Feel better now?" 

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Sunshine awkwardly re-entered the dining room, trying to shake off the lingering tension from the pantry. Violet glanced up from her seat, her brow furrowing with impatience.

"What took you so long? You left me here to suffer through this alone," Violet whispered.

Sunshine forced a smile and mouthed, "Sorry," as she moved to sit back down. 

Just as she reached for her chair, a sharp, searing pain shot through her abdomen, making her freeze mid-step. Her hand instinctively flew to her stomach, her expression contorting into confusion and alarm. It felt like something kicked—no, someone kicked her from the inside.

"Sunny, are you okay?" Ben's voice cut through the conversation, noticing the sudden change in her posture and the way she clutched her stomach.

"I—I'm fine," she started to reply, but her words were cut short as a white-hot pain erupted once more, this time more intense, forcing her to double over. Sunshine's body folded in on itself, her arms wrapping tightly around her middle as if trying to shield herself from whatever was happening. A gasp of pain escaped her, her face paling as the room spun.

"Sunshine?" Vivien's voice trembled with concern, her fork clattering onto her plate as she stood up quickly.

Violet shot up from her seat, her eyes wide with panic. "What's happening?" she demanded, looking around the table as if someone had the answers.

Sunshine whimpered as tears welled in her eyes. The pain was unbearable, like something was tearing her apart from the inside. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady herself, but her body was no longer responding the way it should.

"Ah!" Another cry slipped from her lips, more desperate this time, as the agony tore through her again. Her vision blurred with tears. Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

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