#taracarpenteredit

[talesofesther]

you're all I want love to be

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Tara is still afraid to allow people close, to allow herself to trust again. Until she finds someone who makes it easier.

A/N: The idea for this was also given to me by my dear @iamnicodemus. Hope y'all like it. Tara, I love u. <3

Masterlist

Tara never meant for it to happen.

It was actually the one thing she wanted the least. Catching feelings for someone only opens up more opportunities for her to get hurt.

And yet it happened so easily, so subtly, that she only realized it when the damage was already done.

She found you on her first day at the university. When she was admittedly very lost; backpack hanging from one shoulder, fifteen minutes late for her class, and walking in the opposite direction of it. You were the only person she'd bumped into when going past Blackmore's cafeteria, and after a bit of an internal pep talk, Tara walked up to you.

And if kindness could be a person, it would be you. Instead of just taking her to class, you gave Tara a simple tour of the university, promising to be around if she ever needed anything else.

Tara started noticing you on every corner of the campus after that. She didn't take you up on your offer though, choosing instead to keep her distance. Still, you always had a smile reserved for her at times you'd catch her staring. That didn't change when the rumors about her and Sam started, if anything, you became more approachable than before.

But it was only after an unfortunate incident, that Tara actually started hanging out with you;

October had started four days ago, and with it, the Halloween season. Parties were already being scheduled every other weekend and sometimes on weekdays as well.

Tara was walking towards her class, her head in the clouds while she thought about what costume she would wear if she were to go to one of those parties.

She was usually one to be early for class now that she had her paths memorized, preferring the calmness of the minutes before everyone started rushing to arrive on time.

So she wasn't exactly expecting what happened next.

As Tara rounded a corner, she was surprised to come face to face with two other students; one of them adorning a black hoodie and a cheap Ghostface mask. The 'boo' that left his lips was as childish as it could be, but the abruptness of the encounter got Tara stumbling on her own feet as she took several steps back, eyes wide and her body momentarily entering fight or flight mode.

"What's wrong, Carpenter?" The guy in the mask said in a mocking tone, his friend joining in on the laughter, "thought I was your sister?"

Tara's voice was tangled up in her throat, she couldn't remember if she packed her inhaler this morning, or was it her taser that she forgot?

If unkind memories weren't flashing behind her eyes, Tara would have recognized the two idiots in front of her; the boys who came here to do anything but study, taking getting on people's nerves as a hobby.

It was only when the back of their heads was hit — quite forcefully — with a book, that they stopped laughing. The cheap mask fell to the ground with the hit, gaining a crack on its edge.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" You came from behind them, tucking the book back in your backpack, "fuck off before I tell the director what you've been doing out in the parking lot when you think no one's watching."

With a few complaints under their breath, they eventually walked away, allowing Tara to let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Morons," you huffed, tugging on the straps of your backpack before turning around to Tara, your gaze softening immediately, "you okay?"

Her dark eyes found yours. She simply nodded, feeling her lower lip quivering when she tried to speak. She noticed the way your hand twitched to reach out to her but you stopped yourself midway, instead tucking both hands in your pockets.

"I'm sorry about them," you told her with the usual gentleness you never lacked, "they should know better than to do that."

Tara shook her head softly, managing a smile when her heartbeat started to settle, "thank you for… stepping in."

You just shrugged, your smile coming as a copy of hers, and it got Tara wondering if it could hold the same sentiment too.

"Anytime," you told her then, and Tara hardly left your side after it.

It was easy to fall into the routine of having you near and pretending she was just a normal girl with a crush on her friend. Being with you was so easy that it made Tara forget about all the bad, forget about all the reasons why allowing people close became dangerous.

And today? Today should be a good day, it's a day Tara has been looking forward to, a day that took away her sleep for all the good reasons. And it's not like she never stopped to get coffee with you on the way to campus, but today felt different because you had asked her to, as a date.

And Tara had been counting the seconds for it; until Ghostface came back and nearly killed her and Sam at that grocery store, until Mindy said 'never trust the love interest', until her worst nightmares came back again and suddenly nothing was easy anymore.

"Alright guys, as much as I love discussing possible suspects with you," Chad pushed himself off the bench he'd been sitting on, "we've still got classes to go to, come on Ethan." The two boys gathered their things and walked away, Quinn soon following behind.

Tara slumped back in her seat, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. With her sight momentarily gone, it felt like everything else was louder, heavier; she could perfectly hear the rustling of leaves from the trees around, the cacophony of voices from all the other students hanging out outside, and feel the weight of Sam's gaze on her.

"I think someone's looking for you, lovergirl," Mindy said out of nowhere, kicking Tara's sneaker with her own. When Tara glanced up at her friend with a frown, all Mindy did was tilt her head towards the university, where you had just walked out from and were now making your way to them.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Mindy teased with a sing-song voice and a grin plastered on her lips.

"Noticed what?" Sam sat up straighter, her gaze shifting from Tara to Mindy.

"Tara's girlfr-"

"Nothing," Tara interrupted quickly, getting up so she could land a gentle punch to Mindy's shoulder, "nothing to notice," she said again, pointedly.

"Alright, let's go, Sam," Mindy extended a hand for the older girl, "we'll meet back at the dorm later."

Sam still had a confused frown on her features but she took the hand offered to her anyway, while Mindy leaned closer to Tara so she could whisper; "always knew you had good taste," before both of them walked again.

Tara's cheeks went aflame as she let out a groan, predicting the onslaught of questions she'd get later today. She slowly turned around to meet you in the middle, her soul naturally filling with incessant butterflies.

Had she really been that unsubtle when regarding you?

"Hey," you greeted her a little breathlessly, letting go of your backpack and leaving it on the floor as you took a small extra step closer to Tara, your eyes frantically looking her over, "I was so worried when I saw what happened last night, are you-"

"I'm okay," it was instinct, but Tara didn't know if the words were true. There was something about you that always made her feel more than she wanted to, she suddenly felt like the last pieces of herself she'd been trying to hold together so hard over the last months started crumbling. Tara took hold of your hands, squeezing tightly. She didn't know who she was trying to comfort, you or herself.

You held her back, glancing down as your fingers intertwined with hers. Tara observed the way your lashes kissed the corner of your cheeks; you were all golden softness and spring warmth, presence rivaling the one of a welcoming sun on a cold day. Tara wanted to memorize that, keep it in her heart as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you.

It should be easy to forget and pretend, but it suddenly wasn't, because Mindy's words kept ringing inside Tara's head even if she didn't want them to be true. She felt tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of her eyes.

"But," she closed her eyes at the unsteadiness of her own voice. More than anything, she wanted this, wanted you. But she was stuck. It felt like quicksand, pulling her further down the more she struggled to get out. "about today…"

It's like you knew her better than she knew herself sometimes, maybe for you, it still felt easy. "It's alright, Tara." Your thumb brushed over the scar on top of her hand, "we don't have to go, I understand."

Tara pursed her lips, blinking away her vulnerability. She let go of your hands only to loop her arm around yours and bring your bodies closer together, "walk me to class, though?"

—

"Come on, spill it, what's up between you two?" Mindy leaned back on the kitchen counter beside Tara, "I was joking earlier today, but now I actually think there's something there."

The carrot Tara was cutting ended up with a slice too big, she had to turn it around and cut it one more time in the middle, "I've told you, there's nothing going on," Tara told her friend with a sigh, making sure to cut smaller slices so she could keep her hands busy as long as possible; "she's my friend."

Mindy scoffed, she picked up a spoon from the sink and tasted whatever Chad was cooking up on the stove. A grimace came to her face at the lack of seasoning, "I've heard that before."

"It's not like that," Tara dropped the knife then, unsure what she was frustrated about or what she wanted to convince Mindy of, "how can I get… involved with someone after what happened?" Her voice grew quieter by the end.

Mindy softened at that, she turned to face Tara fully — everyone knew the younger Carpenter was still struggling with what she'd been through, even if she didn't want to admit it. "I know it's not easy, T. But you can't close yourself off for everyone, some people are still worth it," Mindy glanced towards the living room, a soft smile on her lips when Anika's silhouette came into view, "people aren't meant to be islands."

—

There are times when the pain is so big, that it almost doesn't feel like pain anymore. If it comes from a wound, that's usually the time when you'll pass out. If it comes from inside, you start to feel numb.

Sitting at the back of an ambulance as she watches cops walking out with another one of her friends in a dark body bag, Tara thinks she's close to that feeling. Mindy is sitting beside her, she's not moving. Tara doesn't know what to say in moments like these, they feel almost awkward. A morbid kind of awkward.

So when she gets up, cell phone in hand with your number already ringing, she blames it on that; on the pain squeezing her chest almost to the point of unbearable, on the helplessness she feels twirling in her gut.

Tara paced back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to draw out the noise of the sirens as she counted up the seconds until you picked up.

… Two, three, four.

Tara could hear her own heart rate quicken, she closed her eyes, thinking about how her inhaler was still all the way up in the apartment; where there's blood, and-

Please, pick up. Please, pick up.

"Hello?"

A long sigh of relief left Tara's lips as soon as she heard your voice through the phone. As if she hadn't cried enough, she could see tears clouding her sight.

"Tara? What happened, is everything okay?"

"No, it's not," Tara forced out, her voice tight with a sudden rawness. She turned her back to Mindy so the girl wouldn't see her crying, "there was another attack… Anika didn't make it."

"Oh god, I can't-" Tara could hear you choking on your own voice, "are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm-" Tears made a steady path down to Tara's chin, some getting caught under the phone pressed tightly to her cheek, "I'm alright."

"Tell me where you are, I can be there in like ten- five minutes."

"No!" Tara said with urgency, "don't come here, please, I don't want you anywhere near this," she gulped back a lump in her throat, "it's too dangerous."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be okay," Tara closed her eyes, wishing the words really were true, "I just-" she hesitated, a confession lingering on her tongue, "I just wanted to hear your voice, is all." She bit onto her lower lip until it drew blood.

"We- we can talk for as long as you need," it was like Tara could hear your smile, "I'm happy to hear your voice too."

—

Ambulance lights and police sirens were clouding your senses as you run up to the commotion. It was quite a sight; your oversized shirt, shorts, and sneakers with mismatched high socks. But you couldn't remember to care because your heart had been at your throat ever since Mindy called.

There were several reporters blocking your view but you squeezed your way through them until you reached the police tape. You've always hated this; the white and red colors of the vehicles that only showed up in tragedies, the panic and grief that lay heavy in the air, the clicks of the cameras from people who saw it as an opportunity — you hated it all, but right now the only one on your mind is Tara.

You ducked to go under the police tape, immediately attracting the attention of one of the cops, "Miss, you can't be here, please go back behind-"

"No, you don't understand," you gripped at the fabric of his jacket when he tried to keep you back, trying to push through, "I know them."

And the cop kept speaking, probably about things you weren't allowed to do and places you shouldn't be. You didn't hear any of it, because you found her. Her blue shirt had more red than blue in it, dried blood was all over the fabric, making you feel a mix between relief and nauseousness; her hair was messy, tangled, and damp in some places; her skin still coated with bits of dirt and blood too; her arm was held up by a makeshift bandage. But she was there, talking to a blonde woman on a stretcher; she was alive.

"Tara," you called quietly as your sight blurred over, and then a little louder, "Tara!"

She looked up, any words she'd been saying dying on her lips when she saw you. For a beat, it seemed as if she was assessing if you were real or not, before she was all but running towards you.

Not caring for consequences, you pushed the cop off of you and met her halfway — lucky for you he apparently noticed you really knew them.

"What are you doing here?" Tara's eyes were glinting under the red and blue lights, there were clear tracks on her cheeks where tears had run down.

"I was-" you tried, stumbling over your words as you took her in, all blood stains and bruises. You raised a hand to push back her fringe, the strands of hair were damp to the touch; from sweat or blood, you didn't want to know. "Mindy called, and scared the shit out of me. I came as fast as I could."

With her lower lip stuck between her teeth, Tara leaned into your touch. Her eyes closed tightly when your thumb traced the outline of her eyebrow.

"Are you okay? I mean of course you're not okay, what am I even-"

You were cut off when Tara threw herself at you. She pulled you close with her free hand, nails almost digging into your skin with the force of it as she buried her head on your shoulder.

Quiet sobs shook her body and you held her back the best you could whilst being mindful of her injuries. One of your hands cradled her head, fingers tangled in her dark hair as you breathed in everything that was her. "Shit, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

Tara only pushed herself into you more as you spoke. There was a beat, a moment of hesitance from someone who'd had the bitter taste of betrayal more than anyone should. Trust was a gamble, but when you had a place in her heart no one else could ever have, Tara knew you'd never break it. "I'm okay now," she spoke against you; and she believed it.

You only squeezed her tighter, pulling back just enough to land a kiss on her temple. And you allowed your lips to linger, to feel her skin against you and her heartbeat pressed to your own.

Tara melted in your hold, allowing you to support most of her weight. With her cheek pressed to your collarbone, she spoke; "you still owe me a date."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

[ayoedebiris]

JENNA ORTEGA as TARA CARPENTER SCREAM VI (2023) dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett

[apara-dise-penguin]

JENNA ORTEGA as TARA CARPENTER in SCREAM VI

[sponsoredbymqrvel]

Tara Carpenter Scream VI (2023)

[scream-source]

JENNA ORTEGA as TARA CARPENTER • Scream 2022

[horrorwomensource]

Jenna Ortega as Tara Carpenter • Scream 6 (2023) Requested by anon

[shockygobsmocky]

TARA CARPENTER Scream VI (2023)

[fayeana]

ENDLESS LIST OF OUR FAVOURITES ♡ TARA CARPENTER I still prefer The Babadook.

@lgbtqcreators event 17 — horrors & thrillers

[ultra-violences]

Jenna Ortega as Tara Carpenter in Scream VI (2023) dir. Tyler Gillett & Matt Bettinelli-Olpin

[talesofesther]

warmth in winter

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You meet with Tara on a cold day. She keeps you warm.

A/N: A very random drabble to distract my mind from the bigger projects a little. <3

Masterlist

New York was covered in a white blanket. Temperatures were frigid outside, the horizon with a soft white fog that didn't allow you to see much far.

It was one of those mornings where getting out of bed feels like a punishment and no matter how many layers of clothing you put on, it still feels like you were standing outside only in your pajamas as your bare feet disappear between the snow.

To put it simpler; it was cold, and it was snowing. And you had to go to class.

Truthfully though, it wasn't your chance at a better future that made you brave the unkind weather. It was the fact that, in that same university, you would see her.

Love does weird things to people; it makes taking a fifteen-minute walk holding your jacket close to your body as snowflakes kiss your cheeks feel like no trouble at all. Because inside, you're as warm as ever. That's how Tara made you feel; warm. Even in the coldest weather.

As you walked the stone path on campus, blowing hot breath into your gloved hands, your eyes roamed around in search of her. And you found her sitting on a bench, the one that stood under a huge tree — otherwise adorning vivid green leaves, now was all naked branches and fresh snow — she was sitting there, cross-legged and wearing a fluffy coat with an even fluffier scarf around her neck as her hair fell in waves over it.

You were smiling before you knew it.

Tara perked up as soon as she laid eyes on you, her cheeks and nose a deep red from the cold made the dimples on her smile stand out all the more, eyes twinkling at the sight of you. She got up and opened her arms for you in a silent invitation.

Your feet might be freezing, but your heart melted. You enveloped her in a hug that was arguably cozier than your bed; squeezing her into you and burying your nose in the fabric of her scarf.

Tara sneaked her hands under your jacket — she'd always been like this, wanting, needing to be as physically close as possible as if she had to remind herself daily that you were actually real. You could feel the coldness of her fingers through your shirt, it raised goosebumps all over your skin and made you squirm in her hold.

"Coldest hands ever," you mumbled against her.

Tara chuckled and you were able to feel the heavenly sound all over your body, feel the shape of her smile.

"I don't have gloves," she told you, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.

It was something out of your favorite fairy tale; her dark messy hair contrasting with the white background, her pink cheeks, and her eyes crinkling on the sides because you made her smile.

Sometimes it was painful. It hurt just how much you loved her, but it was that kind of pain one can't have enough of. Especially when you could see that same love right in those gentle eyes of hers.

You reached for her hands until you could hold them in your own, the fabric of your gloves closing around her palms. You leaned down to place a kiss on her knuckles, feeling the cold skin there on your lips.

Tara took the opportunity then to cup your cheeks and pull you closer. She pecked your lips with her own, leaving traces of strawberry chapstick on the corner of your mouth. "Let's go inside before we catch a cold," she spoke before stealing another kiss.

You hummed, taking off your gloves, "give me your hands."

"It's okay, you don't have to," Tara shook her head softly, but extended her hands to you anyway.

Taking hold of her hands, you gently put your gloves on her, "I want to, I'm warm enough."

Tara's cheeks became rosier, if that was even possible; she had an endearing grin on her lips, her nose scrunching adorably because of it. She sheepishly looked down, flexing her fingers to feel the new fabric around them.

She took your hand in hers with a strong grip as you started walking towards the university. Her heart overflowing with a familiar warmth.

Needless to say, you didn't get your gloves back. Even if it was a bit harder to write with them, Tara didn't take them off during class, or when you went to grab a bite to eat in the cafeteria. And you were gifted with the adorable sight of Tara holding a coffee cup with both hands so it wouldn't slip her grasp as she tentatively took a sip of the hot beverage.

It was certainly worthy of a picture, so you took one, and every time you turned on your phone you felt that same burst of happiness. Love does weird things to people, but mainly, it teaches them to see the beauty in small moments that would otherwise go unappreciated.

You were snapped back to reality when a coffee cup was placed in front of you on the table.

Tara was smiling when she pulled her chair closer to yours to huddle for warmth, "got your favorite," she told you, her shoulder bumping yours.

Yes, that's what love was all about; her pink cheeks and dark eyes shining under the dim yellow lights of the cafeteria, your gloves on her hands when she intertwined her fingers with yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

[apara-dise-penguin]

JENNA ORTEGA as TARA CARPENTER in SCREAM VI

[apara-dise-penguin]

JENNA ORTEGA as TARA CARPENTER in SCREAM V

[talesofesther]

late night blues

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Tara is often plagued by the memories of what she's been through. Luckily she has you to remind her that life can still be warm and sweet.

A/N: This idea was given to me by my dear @iamnicodemus, I really hope you like it. It is my first time writing for Tara, guys, so be nice to me. Requests for her are open, just be mindful of my guidelines. <3

Masterlist

The TV was talking to itself. It was late at night already, too late for you to not be in bed.

But you were starting to get used to the constant noise of the cars on the streets, and the couch was so comfortable.

After the days you've been having, the short walk to the bedroom felt like too much of an effort.

Though it wasn't the smartest decision, because when you stirred awake with the sound of erratic knocking on your door, your neck and back were complaining in pain.

You opened your eyes slowly, lazily blinking away the sleepiness and adjusting to the bright TV in front of you. It was some poor reporter who was talking, forced to say the less exciting news at — with a frown, you felt around on the couch until you found your cellphone — 2:47 AM, great.

Leaving your phone on the coffee table, you stretched your sore muscles, basking in the eery feeling of having only the TV and street lamps from outside as your source of light in the small hotel room.

It was a temporary situation, only until everyone could get properly settled in New York. A cheaper hotel in the outskirts of the city, the rooms weren't huge — just a small joined living room and an excuse for a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom — but it was enough, cozy in its own simple way.

The knocking came again and brought your still drowsy body back to reality. You got up from the couch with a groan and dragged yourself to the door.

Upon turning the lock and opening the door, you regretted not doing a quicker job of greeting your late-night visitor.

Tara stood in front of you, shaking like a leaf. She wore her fluffy pink jacket, hugging it impossibly closer to her body the best way she could manage with her bandaged hand; shifting awkwardly on her feet. The dim orange light of the hallway reflected against her cheeks, allowing you to see fading tear tracks on them. Her eyes, red-rimmed and wide, were looking at you with a silent plea.

"Hey," you whispered gently, tentatively. You peeked outside to take a one-second glance to the right where the door to her and Sam's room was, "is everything okay?"

Tara's lips hovered yet she couldn't speak, a lump formed in her throat that she had to gulp back. The nightmares — memories — remained all too vivid in her mind, blurring her sight and forcing her to stifle a sob.

She came looking for her source of comfort before even fully waking up, in nothing but a mess of unsteady feet and shaky breaths.

It was unfair, that someone so innocent took the worst of it.

You reached out a hand for her with the encouragement you knew she needed, "come here."

Tara limped forward, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. Maybe because walking was still painful. She said nothing as she threw herself into your arms, soft sobs being muffled by your hoodie.

You did your best to hold her tightly and stay mindful of her still-healing injuries. One hand cradling her head, your lips brushing the shell of her ear as you whispered promises you hoped to keep.

There was an unbearable weight to your chest whenever Tara came to you in nothing but shreds of herself. Barb wire wrapping itself around your throat like a constant reminder of the permanent scars.

Sometimes you wish you could take her pain to yourself.

You felt her tears trickling down your neck when Tara buried herself into you. She sucked in a sharp breath when she accidentally pressed her injured hand too forcefully into you — yet refused to let go despite the bitter sting.

Keeping one hand around her, you used the spare one to close the door. Turning the lock, just in case.

"Let's sit down, I can make you some hot chocolate if you want," you suggested, gently swinging your bodies together from side to side.

With a sniff, Tara pulled back, using your arms for support to ease the tension on her bad leg. She gave you a soft nod with an even softer smile. It was bittersweet to see her glistening, swollen eyes trying to convey some happiness.

You took her to the couch, sitting her down on the same spot you were previously occupying. There was a fuzzy blanket that instantly became your favorite when you checked in the hotel for the first time a few nights ago; you brought it around Tara's shoulders, making sure she was all snug and warm before you turned to go to the kitchen.

Tara's eyes widened the slightest bit at the mere idea of you putting distance between you and her, it tugged at your heartstrings that something so simple got her so terrified.

You kissed her forehead and promised to be back in less than five minutes. And you did, holding a warm mug of hot chocolate between your hands.

She deserves nothing but sweetness and warmth anyway.

Before sitting down beside Tara, you took a second to yourself to take her in. She looked adorably small between the mountain of blankets and cushions; her hair was a bit of a mess, up in what was supposed to be a bun, a few strands still clinging to the cold sweat on her forehead; she was looking at the TV, but you could tell her eyes were unfocused.

Tara offered a piece of the blanket to you as soon as you were beside her, carefully taking the mug you offered. She hummed appreciatively after the first sip, allowing the sweetness to calm her nerves.

She had one hand around the mug, the other feeling between the blankets until she found yours and gingerly took it, closing her fingers around yours the best she could with the bandage on her palm.

Unbeknownst to you, you became Tara's anchor. You were the person she sought out when the memories became too much to bear. It's not often that she wants to talk about it, trying to avoid at all costs to relive all that happened — all that panic, the pain, the fear of trying to crawl away from death but knowing you're not fast enough. So most nights, you hold her, you warm her up, you try to get her to smile, you make her hot chocolate. Warm and sweet.

And it was just your mistake, that your cellphone was not muted.

Its ringing was loud in the middle of the quiet night, vibrating against the coffee table as the screen lit up with Sam's name.

Tara flinched back so forcefully that even you got startled, she spilled a bit of the hot drink on her fingers but didn't really react to it, her eyes glued to your phone. Her breathing was suddenly all over the place, too fast as she couldn't get enough air in.

You mumbled a string of curses under your breath, getting up so fast that you almost fell face-first on the floor when your feet got tangled in the blankets.

Firstly you took the mug with hot chocolate from Tara's hand, she was shaking violently and you didn't want her burning herself. Then you answered the damn phone.

"Hey… she's here, don't worry," you comforted a worried Sam, keeping your eyes on Tara.

Your heart broke all over again.

With unsteady hands, Tara scrambled for the inhaler in her pocket, doing her best to ease her breathing. The images of the TV highlighted the path her tears left behind, with more still pooling on the bottom lid of her dark eyes.

"Yeah, of course," you spoke, setting down the mug on the coffee table, "I will, bye Sam."

You sighed, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you, "hey, it's okay," you turned off your phone, making sure to put it on silent mode.

Tara tried drying off her cheeks, quiet sobs making her shoulders shake.

Your feelings escaped you and you sat down beside her, taking her into your arms, "it was just Sam, she didn't know where you were." You spoke against her hair, moving your hand up and down her back to try and ground her. "I'm so sorry," you whispered.

Tara had a white-knuckled grip on your hoodie, her lips brushing your collarbone. "I keep getting back there," there was a sudden rawness to her voice, it broke by the end and she could taste the salt of her own tears, "every time I close my eyes, or- or hear a damn phone ringing, I'm back at the hospital, at my house-" a sob interrupted her, but the feeling of your arms tightening around her kept her going, "only this time, I can't get away."

Each beating of your heart hurts against your ribs, it wants to leap out of your chest and into her hands — even this close is not close enough; even with her in your arms, you still want to protect her more. Your thumb found the corner of her lip and moved up her cheek, brushing away her tears with the pad of your finger like a promise of safety.

"I can't sleep. I'm terrified of being alone," Tara melted against you, her good hand sneaking under your hoodie to feel the warmth there, "it's almost as if I- I see her-" she cut herself off and you knew she was talking about Amber, sometimes you wondered what hurt her more; the wounds or the betrayal.

Tara took in a shaky breath, her lips quivering, "I see her in dark corners, and it- it hurts-" she cradled her bandaged hand close to her chest, striving to chase away the hurt, the memories. The small act got you holding back tears.

"Because we were- we-"

"I know," you reassured her, feeling how it was becoming increasingly harder for her to speak. You cupped her face as your lips found her cheeks and you lightly kissed away her tears. "You never deserved any of it, and I'm so sorry I couldn't stop it from happening."

The back of your throat was burning. You brushed back loose strands of her hair, admiring how the freckles over her nose took in the glow of the street lamps that sneaked through the windows; thanking every possible entity that she was here for you to do so, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. You have no idea how scared I was of losing you."

Tara blinked her eyes open, teardrops still clinging to her eyelashes. "You're here now. As am I." She said as a reassurance both to you and herself.

Your heart bled for her and her only. It hurt just how much you felt for her, how much you loved her. Though it was the good kind of pain.

You smiled, ever so gentle with the way you took hold of her hand — because gentleness is all she deserves — and placed a kiss on each of her knuckles, your lips brushing over the white bandages on her hand.

"I hope you know you're never getting rid of me."

And Tara chuckled, all teary-eyed and fragile, the smile finally somewhat reaching her eyes. "I'm counting on it."

It felt a lot like healing. And truth was, maybe you were both a bit of a mess, but existing together made it feel like you didn't need anything else to feel whole again.

A beat passed where you two just looked at each other, both wondering if the other is feeling the same, yet not having the courage to ask.

Tara's chest was rising and falling more steadily now. Without the weight of — for lack of a better word — your trauma, the hotel room held an intimacy to it.

Her eyes drifted down to where your hand held onto hers. Where others hurt, you cared. She was looking at you as if you were everything she'd ever thirsted for; as if no one else made sense.

"You think it's already cold?" Tara tilted her head to the mug on the table, if anything, to clear the sudden timidness growing between you.

You hummed, stretching forward to grab the mug, "I don't think so," you brought it to your lips and took a sip, the sweet beverage still warm on your tongue.

Tara took it from you with a smirk threatening to appear; she leaned back on the couch, hugging the covers closer to her chest and drinking from the same spot your lips had just been.

You're not sure why it raised goosebumps on your skin.

On the TV, a random movie had been playing for a while now, you didn't care much for it as long as it worked to take Tara's mind off of things — which seemed to be working just fine. She snuggled up to you as soon as you leaned back as well, her head finding your shoulder as she kept her eyes on the pirates braving the seven seas in front of her.

You could get used to this, you decided.

"Can I stay here for the night?" Tara asked hesitantly, glancing up at you, "the rest of the night, that is."

You bumped her knee with yours. As if you'd ever say no. "Only if you promise to stay tomorrow too."

And every day after.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[apara-dise-penguin]

JENNA ORTEGA as TARA CARPENTER in SCREAM VI

[apara-dise-penguin]

JENNA ORTEGA as TARA CARPENTER in SCREAM VI

[apara-dise-penguin]

JENNA ORTEGA as TARA CARPENTER in SCREAM VI