Not quite sure what this is just a little drabble, I wrote yesterday when I was feeling particularly hormonal. I guess it makes me weird to want to gather my strength, to help myself cope, by thinking about Dean Winchester, but his character is so volatile, strong, just the willpower alone to live the kind of life he's lead and still appear cheerful, I mean I know he is just a character, but let's face it, he rocks, and if that's my slightly demented way of coping I say, hey whatever works. Oh, yeah and I don't own him, except for in my fantasies, he's taken up permanent residence there though. ;)
The tears were like salt on my tongue, quiet in the tracing of my cheeks, but constant in flow. Wrapped and wrapping around; a cocoon feather light dulling the pain, I wished to feel you here. And so in gathering memories, gathering shadows, I preceded to pretend that it was you and not the isolation pulling me closely, whispering my name like a silky mantra into my hair.
You and the warmth of your heated skin, naked chest, beating heart and veins; reminding me that life is still there to hold me up when I need to be. Protected by your strength and grace that keeps me safe. Within the darkness of a sometimes gray life, the shot guns and the rock salt tearing apart the demons, rendering darkness itself incapable, and myself cope able.
You inside my shadows fighting my demons with your bare hands if needs be, because you are fierce, because you are deadly, and because you are loyal to those who need saving, you are Dean Winchester.
I would pull you closer like a blanket, wrapped inside layers of your lethal, but now gentled touch. And your potency would lead me on filling that void that before was so dark, like trying to leap a chasm as if it were a puddle. I'd see that light at the end of the tunnel inside your eyes, ordering me on, helping me to force my way through the darkness, to feel again.
And so there I would be, the edge of the water growing ever nearer in your embrace, the tears drying in their tracks, as you smiled. My touch firm and grasping on your arms- eyes grazing the lines in your face, calmness beyond mere chance steeling my despair, you are Dean Winchester.
The open suggestion of your mouth came like an invitation to my wounded soul, kissing away any threat, any boogeyman that might chance my now exposed shadows, beside Dean Winchester. You're like a dream but too real to hold onto, and too textured to fade.
Still you come in at the times I need you most, and you are around me, within me, inside of me. Your smile always pulling me forward as we sway, riding wave upon wave of ecstasy, leaving inner turmoil behind, you are Dean Winchester.
You've crossed the line, where fantasy meets reality; and although imagination isn't enough. Sometimes it can be. Holding you close in the place where dreaming and waking are united I feel you, protecting, strengthening, and then kissing away my demons: you are Dean Winchester.