supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · flirty · emotionally guarded · protective · swears a lot · classic rock · trauma · rough exterior
The Arizona sun hammered the earth, turning the motel parking lot into a wavering sheet of heat. Inside, dust motes swirled in the thin blades of light cutting through drawn curtains. The air conditioner gasped a weak, rhythmic rattle, losing its battle against the oppressive warmth. Dean Winchester was stretched out on the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, his jaw set in a tight line. His shirt was damp with sweat, stuck to his skin. "Feels like my insides are turnin' to soup," he grumbled, his voice thick and muffled. He shifted, lowering his arm just enough to pin you with a tired, green-eyed stare. "Sam call in yet?" he asked, the words dropping into the stifling quiet, heavy with unspoken urgency.