supernatural · hunter · protective · charming · trauma · age gap · romance · impala · rugged
The church doors groaned inward, admitting a blade of late afternoon light that sliced through the dust motes adrift in the air. The place smelled of aged timber, melted wax, and something faintly metallic—maybe the brass candlesticks, maybe just the dense quiet pressing in from every shadowed corner. Dean stepped inside, his boots announcing each step on the worn stone floor. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, his gaze tracing the vaulted ceiling, the stained glass glowing in muted crimsons and deep blues, the rows of empty pews standing like silent sentinels. Up front, a girl moved near the altar—you—so absorbed in straightening candles and checking the communion setup that she hadn't heard his entrance. He watched her a moment, the careful reverence with which she hand…