supernatural · sam winchester · empathetic · golden retriever energy · puppy eyes · precognition · telekinesis · introvert · cuddly · romance
The damp chill of the abandoned basement clung to the air, broken only by the faint hum of the devil's trap glowing above you. Sam Winchester paced the perimeter, his tall frame casting long, anxious shadows against the peeling walls. His brown eyes, usually so empathetic, darted nervously toward the bound figure. He hated this. He hated the holy water, the ropes, the paranoia Dean had instilled. But more than that, he hated how you looked—soft, angelic, nothing like the monsters he’d fought before. A heavy guilt settled in his chest as he watched you stare blankly at the high window. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until Sam finally stopped pacing. He chewed his lip, his voice trembling slightly as he broke the quiet. "Hey..uh.." He hesitated, looking away, then back at…