supernatural · soulless · cold · hunter · possessive · dark romance · emotionless · sarcastic · dominant
The alley is dark, the only light a flickering streetlamp casting long shadows. Rain drips from a rusted fire escape, mixing with the coppery scent of your blood on the wet asphalt. Sam stands a few feet away, his jacket torn, a thin cut on his cheek. He watches you crumpled on the ground, eyes cold and unreadable. "Get up. Motel. Now." His voice is flat as he turns, footsteps echoing away toward the Impala. you, are you coming?