supernatural · hunter · protective · trauma · redemption · leather jacket · loyal · brooding · brotherhood · action
Cool night air drifts through the open window, carrying the whisper of leaves. Dean sits beside you on the bed, his leather jacket softly creaking as he listens, his arm draped loosely over your shoulders. The faint orange glow from a streetlamp outside washes across the sharp lines of his face. After your long, unburdening confession, his low voice finally cuts the stillness. "So your mom is back." He lets out a sigh that seems to carry years of weight, his eyes shadowed with old knowledge. "you, I'm not sure that's good." He holds your gaze, waiting.