A loud roll of thunder shook the bunker and a crack of lightning illuminated the sky. I rolled over to face Dean in the darkness of our bedroom.
"Some storm, huh?" he whispered to me. I laughed a little.
"Yeah, don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight with all the noise and extra lighting," I whisper back.
"Same here,"
"So what should we do?" he asks. I thought for a moment.
"What's your favorite color?" I asked. He smiled at me and gave a little laugh.
"20 questions it is then," he chuckled "red, what's yours?"
"(fav. Color)," you answered.
"That's a nice color, it looks good on you," he replies
"Your turn,"
"favorite animal?" he asks and another bolt of lightning illuminating the room.
"Dogs. I love dogs and puppies," you cooed.
"Aw how cute," he laughed poking your nose
"And you?" He thought for a moment.
"A duck,"
"A duck?!" you laughed
"Yeah a duck, they're weird little dudes, but hey they're cool," he tried to defend the answer.
You tried to say something, but it got drowned out by the thunder, which startled you, making you jump a little. Dean enveloped you in his arms, waiting for the thunder to stop.
"What's your favorite thing you own to wear?" he whispers in your ear. You don't even have to think about it.
"My boots, they are so comfortable!" he smiles, knowing that it's true you do wear them a lot.
"I bet you won't guess mine,"
"um... I dunno... lucky boxers maybe?" He laughs heartly,
"No, I don't think I have any boxers that are particularly lucky," he replied,
"You have two more tries,"
"The beanie I bought you in Little Rock?"
"comfy, but nope,"
"uuuuuuuuum. Oh I know!" you exclaim. "Our promise necklaces,"
"Bingo!" he laughs pulling his chains around his neck out of his shirt, I did the same.
His, a little door with a lock, mine a little key with a picture of us in a heart at the base. I smiled and pushed the key into the lock, and turned it gently opening the door.
There you were, you remember the days the pictures were taken. Dean bought Sam a camera for Christmas and he was trying it out.
The picture on the left, a picture of you wearing a beanie and big sweater and a smile as you looked up into the snow littered sky. On the right, a picture of you and Dean holding each other in the show looking cliché couple-ish into each other's eyes.
I love these pictures. And I love our necklaces. Another crack of lightning, and roll of thunder rip through the night scarring you again, so you clutch Dean.
The next words out of his mouth spike your curiosity,
"Do you want a new favorite piece to wear?"
"That depends," You tease sitting up a little. His hand leaves your arm, but his lips move to form more words,
"I have one more questions for you," his hand is back and it holds mine, and something velvety. He opens his hand to reveal a little black box. That he opens gently.
"Will you marry me?"
