Supernatural Sister Imagines

Imagine #63: Oceans of Forrested Whiskey

This is an arranged imagine in which the main character is not you, per say, but their own person. It's less for the sake of putting yourself in the position and more of experiencing the adorable.

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     "Hey, kidlet, watcha doin?" Sam asked, bouncing his way into her room and sitting against her headboard beside her. She grinned and sat up slightly, shifting until she could lean with her back to Sam's chest, his arm finding her shoulder and wrapping over it, hanging down in front of her.

     "I'm just kinda hanging out, what about you, stilts?" She responded, her voice airy and happy.

     "Just coming to mess with you. I have nothing else to do, figured we could hang for a while." Sam responded, and the two fell silent as she settled herself comfortably into his arms.

      "Hey, Sam?" It was a few minutes before she spoke again, her voice relaxed and casual.

     "Hmm?" Sam hummed, his fingers stroking back and forth across her arm as he stared at the bed before him, lost in thought.

     "Will you tell me what my eyes look like?" She asked, scooting forward and laying her head in his lap. He glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow.

     "They're blue, you know that. Haven't you ever looked in the mirror?" He teased. She shrugged.

     "I mean, yeah, but I wanted to picture what other people see, you know?" She murmured, suddenly looking self-conscious, "I don't know."

     "Well," Sam said, a gentle smile drifting across his face as he sat up slightly, looking down into her eyes as she gazed back up at him, "Its like I said. They're blue. But, they're not just blue."

     "Oh yeah?"

     "Yeah," he confirmed, squinting as though he were looking hard at the color on her irises, "They're more of a crystalline turquoise. They are brighter than any pair of blue eyes I've ever seen on a person, and they remind me of the clearest ocean in the world. An ocean where you can see the coral reef hundreds of feet below you; where it feels like you're flying as you swim because the water is so clear. And you know what?"

     She had begun to smile as he spoke, and he paused and leaned down, looking further into her eyes, "I would actually say, now that I'm really paying attention, that your eyes aren't like looking at an ocean, but like looking up at the sky from underneath the ocean's surface."

     "Why's that?"

     "Because they are flecked with the most beautiful little specks of gold, like sunshine through the waves. They shift and they shimmer and in the right light they sparkle; a million tiny suns amongst the bluest of blue seas. They're quite possibly the most beautiful things I've ever seen." He gave that soft smile, that smile he gave when he was really, really happy, and sent a knuckle drifting down her cheek.

     "I've always just kind of considered them a bluish-grey." She stated quietly, shrugging once more. Sam immediately shook his head.

      "Oh no," He denied, "No. They could blind someone who looks too hard, and if you stare too long, you'll get lost and you'll never find your way. I know, I've been lost for years."

     "So have I," She jumped, as did Sam, and lifted her head to see Dean leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed, "Sam's right, babe. You've got a couple of oceans trapped in that head of yours, and we've both been cast out to sea for a long time."

     He stepped into the room and flopped down beside her, giving a long sigh.

     "You guys really aren't just saying this stuff to make me feel good about myself?" She asked, doubtful. Dean buzzed his lips together and Sam chuckled.

     "Kid, we fell in love with those eyes the day we saw them," Sam said, "We don't need to lie."

     "How bout mine, kiddo?" Dean said, rolling onto his side to face her, "What do you see here?"

     She thought for a moment, a smile creeping across her face as she watched his eyes flit over hers.

     "They're like a forest that's just beginning to regrow after a fire," She began, and Dean gave a slow smile, his cheeks heating up, "It's all wet with dew and it sparkles in the sunlight as it grows a million different shades of green, and in artificial light they darken into that green you find when you wander so deep in the forest you don't remember what civilization feels like. The place where it's so quiet you can hear your own heartbeat. But when they're in the sun they lighten up into a shimmery emerald and they twinkle and they dance. When you're happy they sparkle and when you're angry they burn. I think they're my favorite part of you." She answered, her mind soaring as she lost herself in his speckled green orbs, and his smile was larger than life as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She craned her neck to look up at Sam, and he smiled, knowing exactly what was coming.

     "Sam, your eyes are so many things at once. Different lights makes them different colors entirely," He chuckled, "But I think the main one, the prettiest one; they're a ray of sunshine, broken up by a glass of old whiskey, and the ice in the glass shifts and spins and that makes the colors shift and spin and change. They're soft and they're warm and welcoming, like leather or weathered wood. They're unique and that's really special."

     "You're really special, anklebiter, you know that, right?" Sam responded, pinching her cheek lightly. She hummed happily and closed her eyes.

     "We're all pretty special, I think." She murmured, "We couldn't be the Winchesters without special."

     "You're damn right, little one." Dean nodded in confirmation. She smiled and chuckled, rolling her closed eyes.

     "Boys, will you promise me that no matter what happens, we can still have moments like this? Promise me you won't ever let me forget what color my eyes are?" She asked after a moment, and Sam and Dean glanced at each other with a few shared smiles.

     "As long as you don't let us forget, tiger." Dean said. She shook her head, her thoughts beginning to leave her as sleep descended upon her.

     "No way, we won't forget," She mumbled, her words slurring, "Nope."

     "Goodnight, ocean."

     "Night, forest."

     "Goodnight, whiskey."