Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

s e v e n t y - s e v e n

"See, where I am is where I wanted to be
I know what I need, know what I need"
Paint - The Paper Kites 

The warmth of the bunker's kitchen contrasted with the coolness of Amara's damp hair, which clung to the back of Dean's oversized shirt she'd borrowed after her shower. She moved around the kitchen, arranging bowls of popcorn and snacks, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting a golden hue across the room. The sweet, fruity scent of her body wash lingered in the air, mixing with the smell of buttered popcorn as she worked.

Dean was in the fridge, grabbing beers and muttering to himself about finding the coldest ones. "You'd think with a bunker this big, we'd have better beer options," he teased, pulling out a few bottles and setting them on the counter.

Amara chuckled as she poured some chips into a bowl, glancing down at the frilly socks she had pulled on. She could already hear Dean's teasing comments about them, but she didn't care—they were cute, and they made her smile.

Sam was in the living room, setting up the Guardians of the Galaxy movie, his tall frame hunched slightly as he fiddled with the remote and TV settings. The familiar sound of the Marvel intro played softly from the other room, making Amara smile. This was exactly the kind of night she needed—easy, light, and full of laughter.

Dean glanced over at her, his eyes immediately dropping to her feet. A grin spread across his face. "Nice socks, sweetheart. Going for a new look?"

Amara rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a smirk. "They're comfy. And cute."

Dean let out a low chuckle, popping the cap off one of the beers and taking a swig. "I didn't peg you as the frilly sock type, but hey, you make it work."

Amara shook her head, smiling to herself as she grabbed the bowls of snacks and headed toward the living room. The oversized shirt she wore hung loosely around her frame, the sleeves too long, and she had to push them up her arms to keep from spilling the snacks. It smelled like Dean—leather, whiskey, and something unmistakably him—and the comfort of it wrapped around her like a warm hug.

As she entered the living room, Sam looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, a soft smile spreading across his face. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, his eyes drawn to hers, just like they always were.

"You know," Sam said quietly, his voice filled with a warmth that made her heart flutter, "your eyes... they're still my favourite thing about you."

Amara paused for a second, her cheeks flushing slightly at the sincerity in his voice. "Sam..." she started, but the way he was looking at her made her lose her words.

His gaze held hers for a moment longer, and she could feel the affection radiating from him. "I'm serious," he added, his smile soft. "There's something about them. They're... beautiful."

Her heart swelled, the gentle sincerity in Sam's voice making her feel both seen and cherished in a way that words couldn't fully describe. She bit her lip, smiling shyly as she set the snacks down on the table in front of the couch.

Dean, who had followed her into the room with the beers, rolled his eyes playfully. "Alright, Sammy, ease up on the compliments before she gets too big a head."

Amara laughed, shaking her head as she took a seat between the brothers on the couch. "I think I'm allowed a compliment now and then, don't you think?"

Dean grinned, settling in beside her. "Sure, just don't let it go to your head."

Sam chuckled, his hand resting casually on the back of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing against her shoulder. "Dean's just jealous I said it first."