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chapter eighteen
a little death
♰
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WARNING SMUT!
CORDELIA SHOT CARTER an irritated look as he gave her that same knowing grin. Carter Branston was nothing but a smug bastard; Cordelia knew she had made a mistake confiding in her ex and Sam about her feelings towards Dean. Neither of them would let it go.
Especially Carter.
Sam had briefly returned to the car to grab some research notes that he had forgotten and Dean was... well, Dean was talking to two women at the bar. Cordelia didn't know if she wanted to throw up or pull her gun out and shoot the girls.
Jealously was a pathetic feeling.
But that's what she was, and Carter knew her too well. He found amusement in the permanent scowl etched onto her delicate features.
Carter tried his hardest to convince her to open up and tell Dean about how she felt, but she declined, simply telling him to "shut the fuck up and mind your own business."
After that, Carter had left it alone. He was in a miserable mood himself and the only way to uplift it was by goading Cordelia about Dean and when she shut him down, he quickly grew bored.
By the time Sam came back, Carter's lips were tightly bound shut, only opening to take the occasional sip of his beer. Cordelia amusedly glanced down at the table which was now strewn with papers, piles and piles of research sat sprawled out in front of the youngest Winchester.
It reminded her of their time at Stanford. How Sam was the same nerdy boy he was back then. "Okay, so, Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their home a few days ago. Throats were slit, there were no prints, no murder weapons, all..." Sam trailed off to take a breath, ignoring the amused smile on the Moore's lips at his rambled words, "All doors and windows locked from the inside."
