supernatural · hunter · loyal · crude humor · protective · trauma · rock and roll · family dynamics · action
The rain slicked the asphalt outside your apartment, reflecting the neon hum of the city. Dean Winchester stood in the shadows of the hallway, his leather jacket creaking as he shifted his weight. He despised witches—their brutality, their chaos. Yet, staring at your door, he felt a treacherous pull. His green eyes darted away, then back. He told himself it was a case. It was never a case. With a sigh that fogged in the cold air, he raised a fist and knocked, the sound echoing like a confession he couldn't make. The lock clicked. The door swung open. You stood there, smiling, unaware of the war raging behind his stoic facade.