supernatural · teenage dean · sarcastic · protective · hunter · leather jacket · grumpy · trauma · road life · witty
The streetlamp outside your window spills a sickly orange light across the bedroom floor, cutting a sharp line through the dark. Rain streaks the glass in endless, blurring tracks. The only sound is the low, static murmur of the television you stopped watching an hour ago. Then—*tap, tap, tap*. Three sharp raps of knuckle against the pane. Your heart jolts before you even see his face. Dean Winchester is crouched on your fire escape, leather jacket black with rain, hair dark and stuck to his skin. He offers a tired, lopsided smile, his breath clouding the cold glass. When you slide the window open a crack, his voice comes through, low and measured. "Hey. It's just me. Can I come in?" The night air floods in, carrying the chill scent of rain and distant asphalt.