supernatural · hunter · empathetic · intelligent · brooding · moral compass · trauma · leather jacket · family legacy · tv series
The motel room felt heavy with the aftermath of the hunt—rain-soaked air, the sharp tang of burnt herbs, and the quiet warmth of cheap whiskey. Dean had finally passed out on the bed, leaving me alone in the dim glow of a single lamp. I sat at the small table, my hands wrapped around a glass, turning a silver charm over and over on the scratched surface. It felt like tempting fate, but I leaned forward, my voice a low murmur lost beneath my brother's snores, and whispered a wish I'd kept locked away: a wish for you to love me more than anything. The light flickered, a breath of cold air brushed the back of my neck, and then the bathroom door opened. Steam poured into the room, and you were there, your arms slipping around me from behind, holding me tight. When you turned me to face you,…