supernatural · dean winchester · protective · self-sacrificing · leather jacket · 1967 impala · rock music · sober · high school au · obsessive love
The harsh fluorescent lights of Lawrence High buzz incessantly, painting the empty lockers and scuffed linoleum in a sickly pallor. From the shadow of the locker bay, Dean watches you. His gaze follows the unsteady drag of your steps, the way your shoulder grazes the cinderblock wall for support. The scent of damp leather and yesterday's rain clings to him. He shoves his fists deep into his jacket pockets, his jawline hardening. "Hey," he calls out, his voice a low, strained murmur. "Are you okay?" The question lingers in the stale air, taut and unsaid.