𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛[𝙳.𝚆]

022

After gathering whatever we could on women named Mary and people who've died in front of mirrors, we checked into a nearby hotel. There we spent all night going through old newspapers, documentations, reports, anything about a Mary that died in front of a mirror. Now it's the next morning, the sun is already shining brightly, and we still have jack squat.

"Hey, Dean?" I yawn, setting down an old newspaper. He looks up from his book, to me sitting across from him at the table, then looks back down.

"Yeah?"

"I've told you a considerable amount of information about me. I mean, the only other person who knows what you know is in this room with us." I say, glancing at a sleeping Sam. "And I've known him for almost 4 years."

"What's your point?" Dean asks, looking up at me through his lashes with a raised brow. I rest my arms on top of the papers that lay on the table, and fold my hands together.

"My point is...there's something about you that I just can't put my finger on. Hell, I've been with you for not even two months, and I've managed to tell you things that took me years to tell Sam." I narrow my eyes at him.

"Well, I like to think it's because of my approachable aura." Dean jokes, resting his arms on the table as well, leaning forward with a teasing smile.

"Hmm. Maybe so. But it still doesn't change the fact that you know sensitive information about me, and I don't know anything about you." I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. "So, spill." I demand. He chuckles, looking me up and down curiously.

"What, Sam never talk about his dysfunctional family, or more importantly, his extremely good looking, badass older brother?" He smirks. I snort at his inflated ego.

"Oh, no, believe me, he has. But I want you to tell me something. Not Sam." He inspects me for a moment before a small smile paints its way on his face.

"Okay. What do you wanna know?"

"Well, I know about your intense fear of planes..." I trail off, laughing when he glares at me. I think for a moment.

"How many girls have you slept with?"

"I...well, I was not expecting that." He chuckles, then raises a brow. "Are you jealous, Jenny?" I scoff at that.

"Oh, please. I'd rather kiss Sam, who's like a brother to me, by the way, before I ever kiss you."

"Ouch." He pouts.

"No, I'm just asking because I've seen you bring girls around now and again over the past few weeks we've been traveling together and it made me curious of how many in total." I shrug.

"Lost count." He says simply, leaning back in his chair with a shrug.

"Are you serious?" I ask, my mouth dropping open. He just nods his head.

"Wow...then you've definitely got to have an STD by now." I joke.

"Haha, very funny." He dryly laughs with a blank face, but then he starts smirking and crosses his arms.

"You can think what you want, but I know I definitely don't have any STDs, so if you ever wanna, you kno-"

"Next question!" I cut him off quickly, cheeks turning slightly pink. He laughs but nods his head.

"Date of birth."

"January 24th, 1979. Yours?"

"January 6th,1980. Favorite color?"