Queen Of Paradox (Unedited)

Magic Touch

Kill me. Sweet Lord, someone kill me now.

Dean thought weakly, closing his eyes with a groan.

He was propped up against what felt like a mountain of pillows in a bed that was both familiar and foreign to him. He was in his old bedroom. A bedroom he's had since he was six and till the age of eighteen. Over the years it changed until it's finally decor now.

Slate grey walls served as a perfect backdrop for the bold colours that littered the room. A large royal blue rug sat in the middle of the room, his king sized bed eating up most of it. The floors complimented it flawlessly with it's white pine panels. A floor to ceiling window took up the entire left wall that framed the perfect view that was miles and miles of vast forestry. The lush green scenery offering comfort and tranquility. Dove white curtains hung from the gold rods above it.

It was currently open, allowing sunlight to stream in and illuminate the otherwise somber space with golden warmth. His bed was adorned with crisp white sheets that made the turquoise comforter on top pop brightly along with the midnight black and dark grey pillows. The door to his walk-in closet faced the bed, slightly ajar. He didn't have to ask if it was fully stocked with clothes that would fit his current physique and style. The Shore family were creepy accurate like that.

His adjourned bathroom was off to the right and a few feet away from the doorway. This room had always felt too big to him, too...lonely. When he was six and just arrived, feeling confused and abandoned by his fathers sudden decision, he always slept curled up on the closet floor. His cheeks tearstained and hands gripping tightly to a leather bracelet with a gold pendant his parents had gifted him a few years ago. It was the only thing he had that reminded him of home and calmed him enough to fall asleep.

"-completely irresponsible! What could you two possibly be thinking!" The angry rantings of Elizabeth Shore pulled Dean out of his thoughts and back to the present. She was perched on the side of the bed dabbing a cold damp washcloth to his perspiring forehead.

She was always a beautiful woman with a pristine and proper disposition. But right now, worry was etched into her usually youthful face, making it appear older. Her features pinched. Her lips were pressed in a thin line, whenever she took a break from the verbal lashing she was giving him, making them practically disappear considering they were already thin, yet plump, on their own.

Her aquiline nose flared prettily in her emotional state and her light grey eyes, with their alluring tipped up corners resembling that of a cats, shone with what he knew was held back tears. Her high cheekbones and thin cheeks flushed from the effort. Yet she still managed to look elegant. That was Elizabeth. The definition of regal and elegance in a tall, beautiful, willowy package with flawless golden blond hair that shimmered and caught the sunlight effortlessly.

Right now though, the blunt lob she kept it in had a wild look to it from all the times she'd run her hands through it in the last hour.

"Are you listening to me Dean?" She question sharply, irritation in her voice. He sighed wearily, only to erupt into a fit of coughs. When he settled again, he nodded, before weakly murmuring. "Yes, Mrs.Shore" hurt flashed in her eyes and it made his heart squeeze painfully. He knew she hated it when he called her that, preferring Elizabeth since he refused to call her mom.

Even though she had raised him for twelve years as one of her own, he couldn't bring himself to call her his mother even though he loved her as one...even though she was the only one he had and had given him unconditional love. She was everything a mother was and more. But he just couldn't. Grasping her thin wrist, he pulled her dainty hand into his. "Yes Elizabeth," he corrected himself. "I'm listening."