s i x t y - t w o

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"This is a place where I don't feel alone
This is a place where I feel at home
"
To Build A Home - The Cinematic Orchestra 


The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Amara stirred first, the weight of the previous night still heavy on her body. Her breath was slow and steady, her heart calm for the first time in what felt like forever. The warmth of Sam and Dean surrounded her, and as she shifted slightly, she realised they were all tangled together—a perfect mess of limbs, pressed so closely it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

Dean's arm was slung lazily over her waist, his hand resting on Sam's shoulder, as if even in sleep, he couldn't let go of either of them. His face was peaceful, the tension and intensity from the night before melted into a soft calmness. Sam's hand rested on her thigh, his fingers curled gently around her skin, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. He was tucked into her back, his warmth comforting, grounding.

Amara felt a swell of emotion in her chest as she looked between them, her body still humming with the memory of what had happened. It had been everything she hadn't known she needed, and now, as they lay together, their bodies perfectly intertwined, she felt... whole.

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of the sheets and the rhythmic sound of their breathing. For a moment, Amara simply lay there, her heart full, soaking in the peace of it all. She could feel their presence around her—Dean's protective warmth, Sam's steady calm—and it made her feel like she belonged, like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

Sam shifted slightly, his hand tightening around her thigh, his lips brushing the back of her neck in a sleepy, absentminded kiss. "Morning," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. His fingers stroked her skin lazily, and even half-asleep, there was a tenderness in his touch.

Dean grunted softly from her other side, pulling her closer into his chest without even opening his eyes. "Not ready to get up yet," he muttered, his voice low and rough from sleep, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her waist, and Amara couldn't help but smile at how peaceful he seemed.

For a while, none of them moved. They stayed like that, tangled together, the world outside forgotten. There was no rush, no need to break the moment. The warmth of their bodies, the quiet comfort of the morning—it was enough.

The soft light continued to spill over the room, casting everything in a gentle glow, and Amara felt like she could stay like this forever. Tangled up with Sam and Dean, their warmth wrapped around her like a blanket, she had never felt more at peace. The weight of everything—the battles, the tension, the uncertainty—seemed to melt away in the quiet intimacy of the morning.

Sam shifted again behind her, his arm tightening slightly around her waist as he pulled her closer, his breath warm against her neck. "You okay?" He murmured, his voice still thick with sleep, but there was a quiet concern in his tone, as if he was already thinking about how much things had changed between them.

Amara smiled softly, her fingers reaching up to trace lazy patterns on Sam's arm. "I'm more than okay," she whispered, her voice filled with the emotion she hadn't quite expressed the night before. She turned her head slightly, enough to catch Sam's half-awake smile as he pressed another gentle kiss to her temple, his fingers still resting on her skin like he couldn't quite let go.

Dean shifted beside her, his fingers trailing up her side, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His face was still peaceful, his usual cocky grin replaced by something softer, more relaxed. For a moment, Amara just watched him, marvelling at how different he looked like this, how much gentler he could be when the weight of the world wasn't pressing down on his shoulders.

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