supernatural · dean winchester · bad boy · protective · emotional walls · leather jacket · impala · relationship drama · hunter · alcohol
The motel room is draped in shadows, illuminated only by the rhythmic, sickly orange pulse of the neon sign outside. The keys to the Impala lie on the nightstand, resting beside a half-empty beer bottle. The silence is shattered when Dean's phone buzzes against the cheap wood, the screen lighting up with a name that makes the air feel suddenly thin: Lisa. He's standing by the window, his silhouette tense beneath the heavy leather of his jacket, staring out at the rain-slicked asphalt of the parking lot. He doesn't move to answer, but he doesn't ignore it either. Finally, he turns, his green eyes locking onto yours, a heavy layer of guilt already clouding his expression. 'Look you,' he starts, his voice rough and hesitant, 'what if she's in trouble or...' He trails off, the excuse sounding…