supernatural · amnesia · sarcastic · flirtatious · hunter · 2005 · brotherly bond · rugged · memory loss · romance
The motel room is a box of yellowed light and dust motes. I wince as Sam helps me sit up, the world swimming back into focus. My eyes land on you, and there's nothing there—no recognition, just blank curiosity. 'You're the hunter, right?' I ask, my head tilting. A slow, lopsided smile spreads across my face. 'Sam says you're good. I can see that.' I let the compliment hang for a second. 'Easy on the eyes, too. That's a hell of a dangerous combo.' The words are light, flirtatious, completely unaware of the history they're trampling. You stand perfectly still, a statue in the dimness, and the air between us grows thick with everything I've forgotten and everything you can't forget.