Capri Coleman was a normal girl, getting ready to graduate college when her life fell apart. Her close friend died in a mysterious fire, she learns that her family's death from years ago might not be what she always thought, and she is thrown into t...
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When I woke up, I was sure the events of the night before had been a dream. A trick my mind played on me.
That was until I rolled over, eyes still shut and slid my hand across the mattress to find Dean and was met with him fully clothed and just not slipping into bed. "What time is it?" I asked, blinking to find that the room was still dark. Only a pale strip of moonlight leaking across the floor.
"Almost 2:30," Dean answered. "Sorry if I woke you up."
"Where were you?"
"Just went to get a drink and ask about the hotel a little more." He settled into bed beside me. "Sorry for ditching you, but you were sleeping. Figured I'd let you rest."
I looked up at him for a moment, wondering if I had heard him right earlier. Did he actually say that? I didn't want to think about it.
If he did say it, I couldn't figure out what provoked it. It's not like we had done anything extraordinary that might've temporarily blinded him. I mean, we had sex in missionary, for fuck's sake. What's so special about that?
At the thought, a memory slipped to the forefront of my mind. His fingers sliding between my own, hands interlocked. His eyes boring into mine with a look I couldn't quite place. The soft way he kissed me.
"Ria? What are you thinking about?" Dean asked, drawing me from my thoughts. "You're being quiet. It's suspicious."
I hit his arm. "I was thinking about the sex we had earlier," I answered, because it was the only thought I could share with him.
"Yeah, I know I'm great. No need to flatter me."
I scoffed. "You're an egomaniac."
Dean shrugged, sliding closer and wrapping an arm around my waist. He rested his head on my chest. "Sorry that I woke you up," he mumbled as his fingers brushed along the skin of my hip.
"It's okay." I ran my fingers through his hair. He relaxed, all the tension leaving his body as he leaned into my touch.
I couldn't sleep after that. My mind was far too focused on the events of earlier that night. The things he said. It all echoed off the walls of my mind, worrying me to no end because why the fuck would he say that?
⛤⛤⛤
Dean wore a black t-shirt with a muted green shirt over it and his leather jacket. The sun had risen, and he and I headed back to Sam's room to start the day. "How you feeling, Sammy?" he asked, laughing a bit as he moved toward one of the beds.
Sam was in the bathroom, groaning as he leaned over the toilet.
Dean pulled off his coat, dropping it onto the bed. "I guess mixing whiskey and jager wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it? I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?"
