Centuries

Thirteen

I sit staring at the warm cup in my hands. To my right is the archangel blade Dean left for me. I have been cooped up in this motel room for the last three hours. Dean knew I didn't want to stay behind and keep an eye on Michael but, knowing that a possible slip through angel radio could also mean a trap. Dean didn't want to take any chances with me. He wanted me to stay put and to stay safe.

"Besides," Dean says in a low voice while brushing his lips across my cheek to my ear. The movement sent shivers throughout my body. "It's plain as day that he has a thing for you still. I'll be back before you know it. So save me a shower." Then he and Sam were gone just like that.

I sit back and look at Michael. He's still in that damn grey suit. The suit isn't tight but it sure does hug all the right places. Michael sits with his hands folded and his eyes aimed directly at the table top. I wonder what's going through his mind right now. 

As if on cue, Michaels eye lift up and connect with mine. Those crystal clear blue eyes that seem to look deep into my soul. Those crystal clear blue eyes that stirs something old inside me. Something that I've been trying to push down since we left the bunker. I quickly divert my eyes away and stare at the awful wall paper on the motel walls.

"It's okay, you know," Michael says softly. His voice has me slowly moving my eyes back towards him. "This vessel was really quite...what's the word the women use today? Ah, that's right, eye candy." Michael flashes an almost all too perfect smile at me. I look down at the cup as I catch my breath in throat. 

"How would you know that?" I ask him keeping my eyes down. I have to admit, this vessel was very distracting and fucking attractive. "I thought Branson Gillian was dead."

"Oh, he is," I hear the shifting of his body and the chair being pushed back. "I still have access to his memories. He lead quite the lovely life."

I look up and his standing by the window looking outside. "He must have been a great man."

"He was, and now he rests peacefully now," Michael makes his way towards the door. "Come, lets go for a small walk. It looks like you could use some air." 

Before I could protest and tell him that walking around could be a horrible idea, Michael is already outside standing in the sun. He turns back in my direction and beckons me outside. I rolls my eyes and reluctantly follow him. "This is such a bad idea," I say to him pocketing the blade I took from the table.

Michael walks us behind the motel where a path leads into the forest. I stop and stare at him, wondering if this was trick to get me alone. Michael looks at me and must have seen the worry and possibly the fear written all over my face.

"Don't worry, YN," He says brushing the back of his free hand on the same cheek the Dean brushed his lips on some hours before. His hand rests at the bottom of my neck on my collarbone. "I've learned my lesson. I won't hurt you. I won't trick you. This is just two, friends taking a short walk to get some air." Michael drops his hands and I instantly feel the goosebumps form. He holds out his arm to me like a gentleman at a formal dance. "Shall we?"

We walk the small path mostly in silence. Michael will point out the beauty around us and I can't help but agree with him about it all. The trees are a beautiful shade of green that you can only imagine when reading a book, sort of like Dean's eyes. The flowers that had bloomed along the pathway were bright and colorful. Michael bends down breaks off a flower and turns to me holding it out. 

"Relax," his voice is calm as he can see the look on my face. "Again, just a friend giving you a flower with no strings attached." 

I slowly take it and out of habit, I smell it. It smells really nice and it makes me smile. "Thank you," I smile softly. "You know what, my feet are starting to kill me, let's sit right here, relax for a bit, and then head on back to the motel."