When Cynthia woke up, she was alone.

She rolled over under the covers, snuggling more into the pillow. It smelt like Jonathan.

Where was he?

There was a note on the pillow next to her.

Cyn, I had business to take care of along with Hanna. We're leaving when I get back. Get what you want together. There's food in the fridge. Jonathan.

Cynthia pouted, but didn't complain. She was going to have to get used to it.

She showered and changed into new clothes Jonathan had left her on the table. She'd just finished her breakfast when the front door opened as he returned. He didn't look very happy.

"How dare they," Jonathan was raging. Cynthia saw blood on the side of his face from around the cover. What had happened?

Cynthia stepped forwards, but then froze; Hanna had her hand on his arm, a concerned look about her face as she told him "It'll be fine."

"It will," Jonathan snapped back, turning away. Cynthia felt the jealously course through her as Hanna followed him. She didn't give the warlock chance as she walked into the room, acting as if she hadn't seen anything. "Jonathan?"

He didn't turn around and Cynthia just snapped out, "Jonathan!"

Now the boy did turn, and Cynthia felt such worry for him. It was… strange. All these human emotions that she hadn't felt so strongly for years, and it was all here.

It hurt in such a good way. She wished Jonathan could feel what she could.

"What's wrong?" Cynthia asked with a frown, taking his face into her hands. He gazed at her steadily before pulling away, snapping out, "we have to leave and right now." He crossed the room and into the bedroom, shutting it behind him.

Cynthia turned on Hanna now, arching a brow. "What exactly is your connection to Jonathan?" she asked coolly. The warlock ignored her for a moment, then replied without looking at her, "he saved my life and I do things for him."

"Define 'things.'"

Hanna laughed, taking a step forwards to face her. Cynthia had always wondered about the girl, her involvement and nature. Jonathan trusted her, so she did too.

But why was Jonathan so attached to her still?

"We had sex a few times," Hanna shrugged. "Didn't he tell you?"

What.

Cynthia just stared at the girl, feeling so numb. And then she felt sick. Hanna just blinked. "Oh he didn't tell you?"

"No," Cynthia retorted coolly, eyes flickering to the closed door. "He didn't."

Hanna frowned. "I thought he cared about you? I mean… he's a demon boy who can't care, but he does for you. Somehow. I assure you he came onto me. Not the other way around. I don't think he ever cared about you. He just pretends. You're nothing but a toy to him to play with. He told me he was glad you died. He was free until you came back."

Cynthia was mad. Furious.

He'd told her that he hadn't had sex with anyone while she was 'dead'. And he'd lied through his teeth.

What else was he lying about?

Jonathan walked out of the room now with his face devoid of blood. He just told Cynthia, not looking at her, "it was a trap. I set out to meet the Russian werewolves, but the set a trap for me instead."

"Are you okay?" Cynthia asked, worry taking over her again. She was mad, but she couldn't help the fear she felt. It made Cynthia feel so human.

"I'm fine," Jonathan snapped. "They're all dead." A dark smirk appeared upon his lips. "I forced water with silver down the leader's throat. I'd like to see him try and talk with his throat melted."

Before her humanity was bought back, she would have found it amusing. Complimented him on his imagination. All she felt now was disgust.

"Anyway," Jonathan purred, leaning down and pressing his lips to Cynthia's own. She stiffened, and the demon boy noticed. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, trailing his lips down her jaw line towards her lips. Cynthia laughed bitterly, noting just how fast the whore had left the apartment. "Nothing."

"Oh Cyn I know when you're lying."

"And apparently with you, I don't."

Jonathan froze, removing his lips from her jaw as he scoffed out, "What?"

Cynthia snorted in dark amusement, taking a step backwards from him. "You forgot to tell me you had sex with your little warlock pet."

He hadn't been expecting that. Jonathan frowned, then laughed, shaking his head. "So? It's just sex."

"Just sex?!" Cynthia went to slap him, but he caught her wrist, snarling out. "You were dead! Were you expecting me to never hook up with anyone ever again?"

Her wrist hurt, but she wasn't going to let it show. His words had hurt her more. "When?" Cynthia asked quietly, tears burning in her eyes. "Did you wait a few days, at least?"

"It was just sex Cynthia. You're overreacting."

"I love you!" she yelled at him, wrenching her hand away from him. "I love you so much, and you do this?!" The tears were spilling from her eyes now. Wet and hot.

"By the Angel Cynthia," Jonathan snarled into her face. "I've had a bad day already, don't start. And don't cry either."

"What?" Cynthia's voice broke. "The hell Jonathan? Can you at least attempt to understand how much this hurts me? I… I was alive when you shagged that fucking bitch."

"Well I didn't cheat," Jonathan scoffed, turning away. "And it was two weeks after you 'died,' by the way."

As he started to walk off, to grab his scarf from the back of the kitchen chair, Cynthia muttered out, voice quiet, "Sebastian."

There was nothing else in the world that could have made him freeze like that. To everyone else, he was Sebastian Verlac. The monster that had destroyed the wards of Alicante. Cynthia had come to imagine that name as his monster name. She called him Jonathan because she loved him. And Jonathan hated her calling him Sebastian. Hated it with a passion.

She had never purposefully called him 'Sebastian' before now.

"You dare call me that," the demon boy told her quietly, meeting emerald eyes with his midnight own. "You. Dare."

"What?" Cynthia retorted innocently. "Don't you like it? I thought it was your name now?"

"You bitch."

"Fuck you." Cynthia was glaring. "Fuck. You. Sebastian." She turned to leave, but he pounced, snagging her wrists. "Cynthia," he growled softly, "you are being ridiculous."

She gazed at him steadily before wrenching her hands away. "You told me you hadn't slept with anyone."

"I lied. So what? I was grieving."

Cynthia laughed at that. Truly laughed. It echoed through the apartment. "You?" she told him incredulously. "Grieving? You can't grieve. Literally. You are an emotionless bastard that can't love or anything. And I-" Cynthia felt the tears start to flow. "I hurt. I just… it feels like my heart is ripping itself out at every tiny little thing that you do and it hurts. It hurts so bad."

Cynthia gasped, rubbing the tears from her face as swiftly as she could. "You don't get it. Before, I was like you. I didn't feel things. I… I feel so human. And it hurts."

Jonathan was staring now, and then, slowly, he shook his head. "What? You don't love me anymore?"

With a scowl, Cynthia slapped him straight across the face. The boy laughed, rubbing his cheek. "And that is how I know you do."

"You're an actual bastard. I'm leaving for a while." She turned to the door, reaching out to open it but it opened first and she was face to face with Hanna. Cynthia's eyes narrowed as she laughed out softly, "bitch, you better make me a Portal to Idris. Now."

Hanna went to speak, but Cynthia's lip curled up in a dark snarl. "And if you ever, ever touch him again, I will kill you. I swear on the Angel."

The warlocks eyes widened at that, and to Cynthia's disgust, she laughed. "Oh? He came onto me. Sounded pretty happy that you were dead, thank you."

Cynthia flinched at that. Her eyes went to the boy who was stood behind, scrubbing the blood off his arms. He hadn't heard. And from the way Hanna had told her, she believed the warlock.

"Make me a Portal. Now," Cynthia demanded, narrowing her eyes. "Before I slay you where you stand."

The warlock shrugged, then walked off into another room. Cynthia knew that she was listening. Obeying.

"Are you really leaving?" Jonathan called to Cynthia coolly as he dried off his arms. "Truly?"

"Yes," she shot back. "I want to see my mother. I've been wasting all my years around you. My mother is alive, and I… I killed my father. She is the only family I have left. True family."

Jonathan folded his arms, glaring at her. "Fine. Whatever. I really don't care."

"Sure."

"Come back or don't, I truly don't give a shit. You're overreacting and when you apologize-"

"What?!" Cynthia snarled now, rounding on him. "Me? Apologize? You're the one that stuck his dick inside another woman just what? A few weeks after I was 'dead?'"

Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. "You are impossible. It was just sex."

Cynthia's eyes narrowed, and before she could stop herself, she snagged the plate on the table and threw it at him. He ducked at the last moment, hissing out, "oh? So you didn't tell your little fuckbuddy that you were glad I was dead?"

"No I didn't."

"Stop lying-!"

"I'm not!" Jonathan roared back, eyes so dark Cynthia was sure there was no bottom.

She shrugged, turning away. "I'm done." The tears were burning in her eyes as she stalked into the next room, shoving Hanna aside as she walked straight into the Portal without a glance back. But she could feel his eyes on her. And she was sure Hanna was smirking.

Everything was falling apart.