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Ch. 5 Actually Happy.

Dean sat up, and ran his hand through his hair. When he looked up at me with his stupid your-heart-is-beating grin, I decided I hate werewolves. Despised them. It was not fair he got to hear my heart have a seizure in my chest, and he got to look so calm. It was not fair that he could tell my emotions by my scent, and I had to guess with him. It was so not fair. He stood up, "You look upset." He commented, "No Dean, being hunted down by stalker wolves and having to stay the night with someone I barely know just makes me happy." I responded sarcastically. Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever bedhead." He retorted, I already knew my hair was frizzy and I didn't care. What did he expect for me to look like when I just woke up? "Whoa kitten, no need to look so sassy. I'm just teasing." He added, walking off into his room.

"Brush your hair, it looks like someone just rubbed a balloon all over it." I called, his hair was sticking up everywhere. Hearing him chuckle, I knelt down and slid on my shoes. When Dean walked back out, he wore a tight t-shirt, jeans, and his hair was sloppily brushed. He was lazily raking a comb through it, and every stroke annoyed me until I just ripped it out from his hand. "Sit." I snapped, pointing to the couch. His eyes widened in surprise, but he obeyed. I ran my fingers through his hair, preparing it, then I started brushing. Dean's hair only went to his chin, but it was thick, and you have to comb it or else it'll look bad.

"Thanks kitten." Dean teased, trying to lean back, but I flicked his neck, hard. He flinched, more from surprise. "Whatever, if you can't brush your hair right you might as well just shave it off, stupid." I responded, handing him his brush back. "You always say the nicest things." Dean commented sarcastically, and I sat next to him. "Sorry if I'm a douchebag, it's just how I talk." I apologized, surprised that I actually apologized. Leaning back, I extended my legs and arms, stretching. "Didn't expect an apology, now I'm not sure how to respond." Dean admitted, I winked at him. "I try to mix things up sometimes." I responded, resting my head on the armrest of the chair.

"Hey Sandra?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you ticklish?"

I paused, if I lied, he'd know, if I didn't, he'd know. So instead of saying anything, I just let out a long sigh, and closed my eyes. Before I could even open then, Dean's hand jabbed my rib cage and I let out a loose laughter, and curled up in a tiny ball on the edge of his couch. "Idiot dog." I snapped, glaring at him. Dean was laughing, and ignoring my icy glare. "You are too cute sometimes!" He exclaimed through his laughter. That made me glower at him, and he just kept on laughing.

Dean stopped, and looked at me, wiping the little tears out of his eyes. "You're like a little bunny rabbit trying to threaten a wolf." He teased, ruffling my hair. "Douche." I muttered, staring forward. I am not a bunny rabbit. Dean chuckled as if sensing my disdain, which he probably could.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you dogs are more perceptive towards emotions than humans?" Dean asked, leaning towards me, his sniffed my hair teasingly, and when he looked up his bright blue eyes met my hazel ones, and we stared at each other. My heart was racing slightly, and I felt attraction and annoyance. So I was torn between slapping him, and kissing him. The little shit, I've only known him for like one day! Stupid playboy asshole. Dean leaned in closer.

"Am I bothering you?" He asked, his voice breathy, his lips were closer to mine and my heart picked up more, but he didn't grin at it, he was close. Due to my mixed feelings I got a weird feeling in my stomach, despite how much I wanted to kiss him, the more he leaned in, the more I just wanted to slap him. Why is this so hard? How can you even want to slap and kiss someone at the same fucking time? Dean got closer, "Am I?" He asked, my heart picked up more, he was so close. If I leaned forward an inch, his lips would meet mine. So I narrowed my eyes, "I swear to god Dean, I will slap you." I threatened, I was so torn. Dean leaned in a little more. "Than why aren't you?" He asked.

I grabbed his shoulders, his eyes widening in surprise, and I shoved him back, so I was on top of him. "You want to know why I'm not slapping you?" I demanded, Dean looked shocked but he nodded, "It's something called trust. And I don't trust anyone, not my parents, or my brother. But I trust you right now, I'm trusting you. Once again, I must've trusted the wrong person, because I hate when people try to take advantage of me." I growled, getting up. Dean sat up quickly, I'd already turned away. Legitimately, I hated when people took advantage of my feelings. I deal with enough of that on a daily basis.

I took about three steps towards the door, and they weren't hesitant. I was going to leave, regardless of all the werewolves stalking me. At least they wouldn't act like playboy douche bags. Before I could reach the door, Dean reached out, wrapping his arm around my waist, and I froze. My annoyance rolled off in waves as I turned in his hold to stare up at him. Dean sighed, "I'm sorry kitten, didn't know what I was doing." He apologized, his gaze was earnest, but I could respond. My voice died in my throat, and I just stared. Dean pulled me closer, "I'm not used to being trusted, I'm sorry for hurting your feelings kitten." He hugged me, and it surprised me more than it should have, slowly I wrapped my arms around him. "Yes, kitten, that is how a hug works." He commented sarcastically once I finally wrapped my arms around him. I chuckled slightly, "Oh shut up." I snapped, tightening my grip. I had a friend.

"I'll take that as you've forgiven me." But he didn't let go.

With my face pressed against his chest, I smiled to myself.

I was happy for once. Not because I got new shoes, but I had a friend.

I was actually happy.