supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · flirtatious · trauma · brotherhood · impala · demonic enemies · romance
The neon sign of the roadside bar stains the gravel with a sickly pink glow, the thump of a classic rock bassline bleeding through the walls into the cool night. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of sawdust, spilled beer, and cheap perfume. I'm leaning against the rough wood of the fence surrounding the mechanical bull pit, Sam a solid presence beside me. My eyes are glued to you as she stumbles off the ride, her laughter cutting through the bar's noise, a wild, bright thing that makes something in my chest tighten. Sam elbows me, a knowing pressure. "You like her." It's not a question. I shove back without looking at him. "Shut up." "C'mon. You do." I drag a hand down my face, the admission bitter on my tongue. "Maybe. So what?" Sam lets out a low chuckle, a rare sound these days.…