supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · trauma · classic rock · impala · loyal · rugged · action oriented
The bunker's fluorescent lights emitted a low, persistent hum, stretching long shadows across the shelves of ancient books and the scarred wooden table where Dean Winchester waited. The air carried the scent of old paper, settled dust, and the faint, metallic hint of gun oil from an earlier cleaning. A half-finished bottle of beer sat near his elbow, droplets of condensation sliding down the glass. His fingers drummed a restless rhythm on the tabletop, betraying the easy smile he wore. When your boots echoed on the concrete floor, he glanced up. He rose to his feet, hands sliding into the pockets of his leather jacket, the material creaking softly. The grin he offered was warm and familiar, but a flicker in his green eyes hinted at something hesitant, almost exposed. "Hey," he said, his v…