Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

t w e n t y - f o u r

"I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do
So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you" 
Talk - Hozier 

The bunker had settled into a comforting rhythm over the past few days, the oppressive weight of Paimon's presence temporarily lifted, leaving behind a sense of uneasy calm. Amara found herself spending more time in the library, the familiar quiet offering a strange kind of solace. The warmth of the lamp on the desk cast a soft glow across the room, illuminating the ancient texts that lined the shelves, and the faint smell of old paper hung in the air.

She sat on the couch, curled up with a book she had barely been paying attention to, her thoughts drifting as the stillness wrapped around her like a blanket. Sam sat beside her, similarly engrossed in his own book, though the proximity of his presence was as grounding as ever. They had fallen into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, but every so often, Amara would glance over at him, taking in the way the warm light highlighted his features, the quiet intensity in his expression.

Dean and Castiel had wandered off earlier, discussing something that had clearly been weighing on Dean's mind, and Amara had been grateful for the space, the quiet. But now, sitting there with Sam, her mind couldn't help but wander—back to the conversation they'd had days earlier, to the promises they had made.

"I'm not going to let Paimon—or anyone else—control me again," she had said.

At the time, it had felt like a declaration of strength, of power, but now, as she sat beside Sam, she could feel a different kind of tension building in the room—a slow, simmering heat that hadn't been there before. The quiet was comforting, but it was also thick with something unspoken.

Amara shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze flicking up from her book to glance at Sam. He hadn't said much since they had settled in, but the energy between them had shifted. There was something different in the air—something darker, more playful.

And then, as if reading her thoughts, Sam spoke.

"Not going to let Paimon—or anyone else—control you, huh?" His voice was low, filled with a teasing edge that sent a shiver down her spine. He didn't look up from his book, but the corner of his mouth curled into a dark smile.

Amara blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "What?"

Sam chuckled softly, the sound dark and playful. He finally closed his book, turning his full attention to her as he leaned back on the couch, his arm draped casually across the back of it, just behind her. His eyes gleamed with amusement, but there was something else there too—something that made her pulse quicken.

"You said you weren't going to let anyone control you again," he repeated, his voice smooth and laced with suggestion. "But you and I both know that doesn't apply to me. Or Dean, for that matter."

Amara's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment. The playful, teasing edge in his voice was enough to send heat rushing through her, and she could feel her skin flush under his gaze. He was toying with her, teasing her, but there was something in the way he said it—something in the darkness of his tone—that made her pulse race.

"Sam," she started, her voice barely above a whisper, but she didn't know how to finish the sentence. The weight of his words, combined with the intensity in his eyes, left her reeling.

Sam's smile widened, his dark gaze locking onto hers as he leaned in slightly, the space between them growing smaller. "Don't get me wrong," he said, his voice dropping even lower, a whisper of heat against the air. "I like your whole I'm not afraid of anything attitude. But we both know there's something else going on here, don't we?"