one hundred twenty eight| young mary

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YOUNG MARY WINCHESTER (CAMPBELL); part three

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Mary when she sees you, an old flame of hers, who had showed up on her front lawn. Her steps falter as her eyes land on you, leant against a pick up truck and picking at your nails in boredom as you await her arrival. You look up, eyes connecting with hers and a smile graces your lips as you walk towards her, embracing her for a little too long before pulling back and examining her from head to toe.

"It's been too long, love."

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