Breaking Angels: A Supernatural Fan Fiction

Down on Love

AUTHORS NOTE: Oh man guys, this chapter is a long time in the making and I'm not even sure it's worth the wait. Bear with me though, most of the last chapters are written and updates should be pretty quick from now on. Also, I'm looking for a Beta Reader/ Editor to keep me on track and make this story less of a mess, if you love Poppy and Dean and are interested in having some input; then PM me or comment below. Thanks

I'm in a bar for the second time today, only this time I'm pretty damn sure I can trust the guy I'm with. Then again, even Dean Winchester looks like a winner in comparison to a werewolf. So the trust I'm feeling is relative, and definitely up for debate.

"Drink?" he asks me as he grabs my elbow and guides me towards the bar. The thought of another scotch makes me sick so I settle for beer. Dean smiles and leaves me at a stool, "I'll see what they have on tap."

I watch him go, curious about his master plan to make me stay. He's got to know that getting me drunk isn't gonna do it, drinking makes me chill out but it doesn't make me stupid. Maybe he will pull the "convenience" argument, either way; I still plan on leaving in the morning. I watch as he catches the attention of a waitress; a pretty blonde whose face lights up as he gives his order. He certainly does have an effect on girls, me included. Those damn green eyes are to blame; they're so honest and clear, with just a hint of mischievousness. It's like they're saying, I'm a gentleman, but I'm not a saint.

Blondie giggles and passes Dean two foaming glasses of beer, along with a thin slip of paper that makes my blood boil. He can't go two seconds without getting a girl's phone number. Why am I even here?

"Hey, two for one night!" He calls out excitedly, but his smile fades when he sees my stormy face. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, "nothing, this was just a stupid idea."

"God, c'mon Poppy, I thought we were over the pouting!" He sticks his bottom lip out and it thaws through the ice in my veins a little.

"We are," I reply softly. "I just don't want to be your third wheel, that's all." I cock my head at the waitress and he wrinkles his nose in confusion.

"You're mad about Caroline?" He scoffs like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "I just flirted with her so I wouldn't have to wait in line."

Oh. I shrug my shoulders, "She is pretty, it's not like I don't get it."

He looks at me incredulously for a minute and then his eyes light up and he smiles suggestively. "You're jealous!" He accuses, jabbing me in the chest with his finger.

"No!" I snap. "I just don't to waste my time, that's all."

We both know I'm lying, the burning in my cheeks lights up like a beacon; letting the whole world know the truth. But Dean doesn't push it, just sits down beside me and plants a beer in my hand.

"No more wasting time," he remarks with a wry smile. "Now drink!"

And boy, do I. I don't know where the endless line of beer is coming from; but every time I get close to the bottom of my glass, there's another one waiting for me. Dean keeps up surprisingly well, but I can tell when his eyes start to get glassy that he's hit his point of no return.

"Your hair looks like there are little strands of fire in it," he whispers conspiratorially in my ear as he twirls a piece around his finger. "I think it's my new favorite colour."

I half smile, drawing faces in the condensation on my glass. Apparently Drunk Dean just has worse pickup lines. Still, it's better than my prerogative; weepy and regretful. I can feel it building now, threatening to drown me.