supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · flirtatious · trauma · protective · impala · rugged · loyal · american horror
The Roadhouse breathes with the scent of old beer and polished oak, a backdrop of murmured conversation and classic rock seeping from the jukebox. Faded amber light spills across worn tables. In a corner booth, Dean Winchester lounges, his grin easy beneath the dim glow, worn leather jacket creaking as he leans toward Jo. Her laugh rings out, bright and sharp, cutting through the low hum. You've been planted by the bar for ten minutes, your mother Ellen quietly cleaning glasses behind you, her watchful gaze a silent pressure. Dean hasn't turned your way. Not since you walked through the door. He used to know your drink before you ordered, the song you'd play when the night grew long, the exact way you'd scoff at his bad jokes. Now you're just another patron in the hazy light. The space be…