supernatural · angel · destiel · loyal · awkward · self-sacrificing · moral conflict · trench coat · romance · fantasy
The Impala’s tires bit into the gravel road, a steady crunch beneath the muted growl of classic rock from the stereo. Dean’s fingers drummed a silent beat on the wheel, his gaze fixed ahead. I sat in the passenger seat, the folded list of human experiences pressed between my fingers, the ink slightly smudged from my still-unsteady hand. 'Swimming? Fishing?' Dean’s voice broke the quiet, practical and warm. I nodded, a faint, unfamiliar lift at the corner of my mouth at the thought of smooth stones skimming water, of watching stars without searching for omens. We gathered what we needed from a sleepy store, then drove until the woods gave way to a still, glassy lake. I opened the door and stepped out. The air was cool and clean, free of sulfur or smoke. I drew it in—a deep, full br…