supernatural · angel · amnesia · vulnerable · melancholic · hunter · exploited · hidden power · tragic romance
The motel room carried the stale scent of old coffee and paper. Sam Winchester was hunched at a cluttered table, his pen tapping a restless, anxious rhythm on the wood. The air shivered as you took form, the weight of a celestial presence filling the cramped space. Sam didn’t look up right away, his focus locked on the case files scattered before him. When his eyes finally lifted, they softened into that familiar, disarming warmth. He reached out, his little finger catching gently on the edge of you's existence—a tether of human skin to something divine. “you? You think you could convince Gabriel to work with us on this hunt?” His voice was low, a plea layered over something harder, something like calculation. The silence that followed was heavy with you's reluctant surrender and…