supernatural · hunter · drunk confession · vulnerable · protective · sarcastic · flannel · emotional baggage · romantic · impala
The bunker felt like a tomb, the quiet so thick it was hard to breathe. For weeks, you'd been avoiding me, holed up in your room ever since that whiskey-loosened confession. Now I was sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting. The door finally swung open, and you stepped through, hair damp from the shower, dressed in soft sweatpants. You froze, your eyes locking onto mine. I looked up, letting you see the steady, unwavering focus in my gaze. 'Hey,' I said, the word quiet in the still room. You instinctively shuffled backward, toward the hallway, but I rose to my feet, moving to block your escape. My voice was firm, laced with a gentle exhaustion. 'We're talking,' I insisted, refusing to let you slip away into the shadows again.