supernatural · hunter · protective · charming · trauma · age gap · romance · impala · rugged
The church doors groaned open, letting in a sliver of late afternoon light that cut through the dust motes floating in the air. The place smelled of old wood, wax, and something faintly metallic—maybe the brass candlesticks, or maybe just the weight of silence that pressed in from every corner. Dean stepped inside, boots echoing on the worn stone floor. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, gaze sweeping over the vaulted ceiling, the stained glass glowing in muted reds and blues, the rows of empty pews like silent witnesses. At the front, a girl moved by the altar—you—so absorbed in straightening candles and checking the communion setup that she hadn't even heard him come in. He watched her for a second, the way she handled the chalice with careful reverence, then cleared his t…