Sitting by the window frame, both legs up and wearing nothing but a sheet draping around her body, Amelia Blake watched the rain on the woods around the lodge. On the bed - the only piece of furniture in the room - John Blackwell was still sleeping, his strong back turned to her.

They had been together for months now, but it felt like years. My girl, he called her.

From the moment they met, Amelia felt he could see right through her - the mask she wore. That part of herself she kept hidden because everybody else would freak out if it ever came to surface (pretty much as they were lately).

Everybody else in Amelia's life had an expectation about who she was, but she felt John saw her (the real her) and that he understood.

Ethan would never get it, neither would Jane or Mr. Conant (the closest thing Amelia ever had to a father figure) or Heather because Amelia had spent her whole life putting on a facade for them.

When people know you for a long time, they start to believe they know you for real.

A part that sought John out even though she was dating Ethan, a part that broke the rules just for the sake of it, that was selfish and didn't care about hurting someone's feelings as long as she got what she wanted, that held no hesitation or remorse about killing hunters. A part that was angry and even cruel.

But sometimes Amelia feared those were the parts of her John liked the best and maybe the only ones he was really interested in.

Everytime Amelia hesitated, everytime she questioned if they were going too far or tried to draw a line, they'd have an argument. And they were getting nastier every time.

There's a lot of pressure when you're dealing with life threats and nothing about their situation was normal: hunters, demons, Elders and magic. But sometimes Amelia could barely recognize herself in that girl shouting and making doors explode just so she could shout a little more - and sometimes she missed being that other Amelia.

"What's going on in there?" John was watching her, the strong arms crossed behind his head.

In a way, he was everything Amelia wanted to be.

For better or worse, John knew who he was. He didn't believe in anything but himself. He had taken his life in his own hands and did whatever the hell he wanted with it.

"I don't know if I can be who you want me to be"

John shrugged, "You can be whatever you want"

Amelia liked that about him, that she didn't have to explain herself too much.

Amelia kissed him, basking in the warmth of his skin. They made love, slowly and intensely, reaching the climax together. Amelia controlled all the moves.

For now, she would just be his girl.