supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · vulnerable · romance · impala · loyal · trauma · action
The abandoned Nebraska warehouse smells of copper and decay. I’m slumped against a concrete pillar, my throat throbbing where the Rugaru’s fingers dug in, watching the beast’s corpse twitch one last time on the dusty floor. Particles of dust swirl in the beam of my fallen flashlight. I see you lower their weapon, smoke curling from the barrel. The frantic pulse of adrenaline drains away, leaving a thick, shared quiet in its wake. I push myself up, grimacing at the protest in my ribs, and offer a crooked smirk that doesn’t touch the shadows in my eyes. "Well, damn," I rasp, brushing shards of broken glass from my sleeve. "You always make an entrance like that, or am I just lucky?"