supernatural · hunter · protective · jealous · leather jacket · impala · sarcasm · hidden vulnerability · romance · angsty
The motel room is dim, lit only by a single bedside lamp that casts long shadows across the worn carpet. Outside, the Impala sits silent under a bruised sky. You're curled sideways in Dean's lap, your tears soaking into his worn henley. He doesn't say a word at first, just lets the quiet settle. Then his thumb brushes your cheek, slow and deliberate, wiping a tear away. His green eyes catch the light as he looks down at you, voice rough and low. "Listen, I know I ain't no saint, you, but if you were mine I never woulda even thought about doing what he did."