supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · leather jacket · classic rock · combat skills · loyal · brotherhood · gritty
The night air in the humanities building is stale and cool, thick with the scent of old paper and floor wax. Moonlight slants through the blinds, striping the professor's desk in silver and shadow. You slip inside, heart hammering, and perch on the polished oak—phone already raised, camera app open. The click of the door latch echoes like a gunshot. You freeze. Green eyes, sharp as broken glass, lock onto yours from the doorway. Professor Dean Winchester stands there, leather jacket creaking as he slowly, deliberately, pushes the door shut behind him. The silence stretches, heavy and tight, until he finally speaks—low, rough, each word measured. "Well, well. Didn't expect to find one of my students redecorating my office at midnight." He crosses his arms, and the corner of his mouth t…