Between Love and Darkness- Book 2

16. A Promise in the Quiet

Stella's POV

Back at Bobby's, the house felt oddly peaceful despite the events of the day. The air was still thick with the smell of blood and sweat, the remnants of the fight clinging to our skin, but for the first time in hours, there was no more immediate threat, no dark energy pulsing in the air. Just the steady ticking of Bobby's old clock, the creak of the floorboards as we moved around, and the quiet hum of normalcy slowly returning.

We'd won. The Malum Magnete was destroyed, and the monsters were gone. We had walked away, bruised and bloodied but alive.

I sat on the edge of the worn couch in Bobby's living room, carefully cleaning a gash on my arm. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the sharp sting of each wound was starting to hit me all at once. But it wasn't so bad. We'd faced something huge, something that could have killed us all, and we'd come out on the other side.

Across the room, Dean stood by the kitchen counter, washing the dirt and blood from his hands. His jacket was off, his shirt torn in several places, and a deep cut ran down his arm, still oozing blood. But he wasn't paying attention to it. His eyes kept flicking over to me, his expression unreadable, like he was turning something over in his mind.

"You need help with that?" he asked, nodding toward the wound on my arm.

I shook my head, smiling softly. "I've got it."

Dean frowned, but there was something playful in his eyes. He walked over anyway, grabbing a clean towel and a bottle of antiseptic from the table before sitting down beside me. "You're too stubborn for your own good, you know that?"

I laughed, the sound light in the quiet room. "Takes one to know one."

His lips twitched into a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He dipped the towel in the antiseptic, his hands steady but gentle as he pressed it against the wound on my arm. I winced, feeling the sting, but I didn't pull away. Instead, I watched him—watched the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the softness in his movements despite the tension I knew he still carried.

"Dean, I'm fine," I said, my voice quieter now.

His gaze flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, he just looked at me, his eyes searching my face. "I know," he said finally, his voice rough but low. "I just... I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

The sincerity in his words hit me like a punch to the chest. I knew he cared, of course, but there was something different in the way he said it. Something deeper. I felt a warmth bloom in my chest, and I reached out, resting my hand on his.

"I'm right here," I said softly. "And we're okay."

Dean's eyes darkened with emotion, the tension in his jaw loosening slightly. He tossed the towel aside and shifted closer to me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin. "You don't get it, Stel," he whispered, his voice rough. "Every time we go out there... every time we face something like what we did today... I'm terrified."

I blinked, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice. Dean wasn't one to talk about fear—especially not his own. He was always the strong one, the one who kept it together for everyone else.

"Terrified of what?" I asked, my heart racing a little faster as I searched his face.

"Of losing you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't know what it does to me, seeing you in danger, knowing that you're out there fighting those things... knowing that one wrong move could—" He broke off, his jaw tightening again, and I could see the weight of those words hanging heavy in his eyes.

I swallowed hard, the lump forming in my throat making it difficult to speak. "Dean..."

His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer until our foreheads rested together. His breath was warm against my skin, and the closeness between us made the room feel smaller, like it was just us and nothing else mattered.

"I don't ever want to lose you, Stel," he whispered, his voice full of emotion. "I don't care what we're up against, how dangerous it gets... I just can't imagine my life without you in it."

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his words wash over me. My heart swelled with emotion, and for a second, I couldn't speak. It felt like everything I had been holding back—every fear, every hope—was bubbling to the surface all at once.

When I finally opened my eyes, Dean was watching me, his eyes soft but intense, like he was waiting for me to say something, anything.

"I'm not going anywhere," I whispered, my hand sliding up to cup his cheek. "I promise you, I'm here. And I'm not leaving you, no matter what."

Dean's breath hitched slightly, his grip on me tightening just a bit, like he needed to hear those words more than anything. Then, without saying a word, he leaned in and kissed me.

It was slow at first, gentle, but it quickly deepened, all of the fear and love and desperation we had been holding onto pouring into that moment. His hands pulled me closer, his touch firm but full of warmth, and I melted into him, my arms wrapping around his neck as we both let go of everything else.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Dean rested his forehead against mine, his eyes still closed, his hands still cradling my face.

"I want you with me, Stel," he whispered, his voice rough but full of certainty. "For the rest of my life."

My heart stopped for a second, his words hitting me like a wave. I had never heard him say anything like that before, never seen him so open, so vulnerable. And the weight of what he was saying settled over me, heavy and wonderful all at once.

"You... you mean that?" I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion.

Dean pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his expression soft but serious. "Yeah, I do. I don't want to waste any more time, not with you. This life, what we do... it's dangerous, and it's brutal, but you make it better. You make everything better. And I want you with me, no matter what."

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, but they weren't from sadness. It was joy, pure and simple, mixed with the overwhelming relief of knowing that everything I had felt for him, all the fear and love and hope, was shared. We were in this together—truly, fully.

"I want that too," I whispered, my voice barely audible as I blinked back the tears. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Dean."

A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned in again, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. His arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, and in that moment, I knew—without a shadow of a doubt—that whatever came next, we'd face it together.

No matter what the world threw at us, no matter how dangerous our lives got, we would always have each other.

And that was enough.