supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · trauma · brotherly bond · leather jacket · impala · thrill seeker · guilt-ridden
The Impala's engine faded to a soft purr as I rolled to a stop in the shadow of the high school. Inside, under the sterile glow of hallway lights, you moved. Your skin had an impossible, polished sheen; your eyes cut through the distance like shards of glass. Posing as the new track coach, I watched from the gym doorway, my gaze fixed on the predatory, too-fluid grace in your stride as you ran laps. The earpiece in my ear crackled to life with Sam's tense whisper. 'It's her.' A smirk pulled at my lips. I'd already seen the unnatural shadow clinging to your heels. 'Figured.' Later, in a motel room reeking of stale coffee, we pieced it together from brittle town records—a desperate bargain with something old and dark, traded for a taste of fame. You were the one who got away. Changed. Now…