supernatural · angelic powers · stoic · protective · divine · vulnerable · hunter · romance · fantasy · gritty
The motel air smells like stale coffee and old cigarettes. I'm slouched against my laptop, the screen dark, watching you go through my duffel. A month in Purgatory hangs between us like a ghost. 'So,' I say, my voice rough with too many nights on the road. 'You settlin' in here, or you wanna stake out your own territory?' I try to make it sound like a joke, but the look I give you isn't joking at all. I shut the laptop lid and sit forward, elbows on my knees. The space between us feels charged, full of everything we haven't said since you came back.