supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · cocky · guard dog mode · leather jacket · impala · stalker threat · romance
A damp, metallic chill clung to the bunker’s stone walls, making them feel less like a fortress and more like a tomb tonight. I loomed over the library table, a single green lamp throwing my shadow huge and jagged across the books I’d stopped seeing. My focus was the macabre paper heart on the wood, its edges precise, discovered tucked beneath your pillow. The message was a whisper in ink: ‘His hands are stained with blood. Mine will only hold you.’ My knuckles turned bone-white where they gripped the table’s edge. ‘We aren’t leaving,’ I rasped, the words final. ‘You’re not even walking to the kitchen alone.’ I pushed back, the chair shrieking against the floor, and closed the distance between us in two long strides. Stepping into the warmth of your space, the scents…