Perfect Present, Bloodthirsty Past.

Her heavy combat boots hit against the wood. "Why are you here. Actually let me rephrase–" Amelia holds up a hand, sighing as her head shakes. "Why are you in my home and how did you get in."

Amelia's response gets a chuckle in response followed by a sigh. Jake pushes himself off of the wall, hard steps against the hardwood floor as he moves himself to her living room. The simple display of a new life was hung over her fireplace. In which, Jake seemed to take a liking to. Amelia's emerald eyes follow his moving figure as gloved fingers trail over the surface of the fireplace. Until the man pauses, stopping to pick up one of the frames. It was out of Amelia's view, but she had a feeling it had something with her and Dallas as center stage.

She steps forward, closer as he faces away. "I asked you a question, answer damn it." Her voice is rough around the edges. It wasn't the time to make her look like a fool, or play his childish game.

"Three years must be a drag, isn't it?" His deep and rigged voice finally speaks. Still facing away from her, still fixated on the single photo. Jake's words catch Amelia off guard, eyes widening before the angered look resurfaces once more.

"What are you talking about?" Amelia asks, Jake sighing at her response. He finally turns towards her, lazily holding the frame in his hand. Pulling it above his head, waving it as if it was a toy. His features were plastered with amusement, disappointment, and anger. She couldn't tell which one was towards her, or if all emotions he felt had her laced within.

"This, this relationship ya think is so perfect." He starts, placing the picture frame lazily back to where it had been placed. Jake's head turned away from her once more, and then to meet her eyes again. "I'm the one who set the pathway for ya, and yet ya stole all of what was mine. No, ya gave it to him." Jake finishes, stepping around the couch to quickly move closer to her.

Amelia scoffs, balling her fists at her sides. How could he think such a thing, even for his twisted mind? Setting the pathway for her was the opposite of what he had done. Without him, people would not have died around her. If she had never met him, her life would have been normal. Not filled with blood, screams of the innocent, and the constant reminder of who she had let slip through the cracks.

"You do nothing but make my life a living Hell." Amelia growls, watching as Jake only steps closer to her. The smirk on his lips only continues to grow with each step. Her aroma almost seemed to draw him in, wanting to devour her entirely. Amelia knew that, and yet she didn't move from her position. Her boots take a step back,

Jake leans forward to the smaller woman, looking down on her as he laughs at her words. "That's not how ya feel Amelia, and ya know it." His words come out with almost a purr, a seductive tone. Amelia growls at his response.

Quickly she turns away from him, going to open the door once more to leave her own home. Enough was enough. She didn't want to deal with his advances, not now: Not ever. He was supposed to be dead in her mind. "I'm only doing what you want so you get the hell out of here and never come back." Her hand begins to open the door knob, only for the door to be forcefully pushed back in place behind her. The door slamming once more, the echo now evident in the silent room.

Amelia has no time to react when hands grip tightly onto her waist, flipping her back to face the opposite direction. She gasps, before yelping hitting against the door's surface. Mouth agape open, her eyes locked with Jake's. A single orb of crystal blue. The only simple beauty she could still see within his horrid and monstrous face. One of the many things she had loved about him, adored beyond belief. The glistening light and joy his eyes once brought, now dull and menacing.

His body now pressed up against her, one hand on her waist. While the other presses against the door, holding her trapped in his grasp. The size difference was undeniable. Jake standing at six foot four inches, he held a foot of advantage over her. Even with her skills in the force, he knew her more than any criminal ever could.

The stare between them holds, watching as her ex lover's eye flickers to her lips. The quick trailing of his eye catches her. Not physically, but in her mind. He had broken into her home, and now it seemed he wished to take advantage of her. If he thought he was getting anything from her, he was deathly wrong. She only wished for him to leave, but that didn't seem to be in his cards for the evening.

His gloved hands pulled away from their positions, enveloping them into her own. Jake grips tightly on her smaller hands, Amelia still keeping her stare onto his face. Her emerald eyes would not leave his. Analyzing every piercing, every scar, even the large hole she had left. It felt to her, she was staring at a never dying image. A ghost, who would always latch to her side.

"Amelia," Jake pulls his words lightly to her, tilting his head to the side as her eyes wander his face. "I've always been your love. Don't make me go away." The words send a shiver down her spine. Gasping for air with how light his tone had become, how soft his facial expressions pulled onto the rough edges of his entire being. It felt in this moment, for the softness of his words, that he was the Jake she had once known.

That was a fantasy, a simple illusion that she had to get past. He would never be the man she fell in love with. The man who had promised to protect her, finished highschool and got his degree, went to college, helped her through so many struggles. Only to come to understand half of the struggles he had caused.

Nothing was real from the start. Jake had said it himself, until she had ended things; He felt nothing for her. Not like she had felt. The cheesy romance, the butterflies in her stomach each time she saw him. Or the enveloping warmth her entire body felt when they kissed. Something so beautiful that became so horrid, tainted. All that was supposed to end with a bullet.

Her eyes can not hold the tears that begin to pool in. Staring at him, and knowing that their love would never have thrived hurt her. Even deep down in her heart, she wished that he had changed. Something within her she wished she had buried farther than before, now that he had come back to the surface. The life they could have had, could have been everything she dreamed of if he had changed. Had been the man she loved, even as the present man shushed her. Leaning close to her ear, feeling the cold material of his gloves push hair behind it.

"I only do what's best for ya..And I, my beautiful angel." Amelia's back arches against the door, and yet her mind wished for her to back away. Get him as far away from her as possible, tolerate only so much of his presence. His words were false promises that the younger version of her yearned for. Part of that woman was tucked deep away inside of her. He knew just how to get her to reappear, but she would try her hardest to resist.

Her hands try to pull away from the tight grip he held. "Get off of me.." She whispers, turning her head away from him. Trying to keep the tears from pouring from her eyes. Amelia would not cry in front of him, not when she had come so far to heal herself from him. Her hands couldn't pull away, his grip was stronger than hers in this vulnerable moment.

She had no air to breathe, no room to escape. She was completely trapped in his claws, breathing down her neck. Waiting to take the opportunity to devour her whole.

"Trust in me, like ya did back then. I forgive ya, I do doll." The words are softer, even as her ears ring with the sound of his calming tone. The air catches in her throat: he forgave her? How could he have forgiven her when she shot him in that empty field, leaving him for dead.

Unwilling to help, never bothering to look back in his direction. She could never trust in him again, not after what he had done to the people she loved. Her best friends, her birth father, those who protected and confided in her. Jake had made her entire existence feel like a curse. She wouldn't forgive him for what he had done, she would never trust him again.