No Words Needed
Blonde hair. That was the first and only thing Sam saw when he stepped out of the elevator and looked at the arrangement of couches and sofas that made up the reading area in the Green Library. Golden curls cascaded down her back, the light from the large, plain windows playing off it like the sun against water. His grey existence suddenly became a little bit brighter.
Her head was bowed, which made him think she was studying something, and as he moved carefully around the assortment of seating areas and stacks of books, he realized she was sitting in his usual study spot: the largest couch in the reading area, a place where Sam could be alone with his work and spread out as much as necessary without bothering anyone.
When she looked up suddenly and turned to look out the window, Sam saw the beauty in her profile: the soft, iridescent skin; the cute button nose; the way her bangs framed the side of her face. Sam blinked hard at the vision. She was perfect – a goddess walking among mere mortals, if such a thing existed.
He stood there for a moment, a few feet away from his destination where she sat, and shook his head.
He'd never been prone to flight of fancy, especially where girls were concerned. Chalk that up to watching his older brother Dean test out every single way to hit on women. Not something Sam had ever wanted to emulate, especially considering he knew Dean chose that lifestyle because, deep down, he was just as lonely as the chicks he successfully picked up.
Not that Dean ever openly admitted his loneliness. Talk about unmanly. The one time Sam had mentioned how alone he felt, Dean spent nearly a month pushing an assortment of girls his way – leggy blondes, petite brunettes, even feisty redheads. All pretending interest in the taller, lankier, awkward younger Winchester brother while they plotted ways to get back to the shorter, cooler, older one.
Sam abruptly halted his thoughts when the blonde he'd been staring at turned around completely, until she faced him. God, if you exist, clearly you made her, he thought and attempted a smile. Parts of him hardened against the blinding display of her friendly smile – the innocence behind the openness of her unspoken invitation.
With a will of their own, his feet began to move towards her. Hands found their way into his jeans' pockets, and try as he might, Sam could not look away from her. Despite the shyness that suddenly attacked him, demanding that he look down. Her eyes were the color of the clean, blue ocean, such as he had only seen in his dreams. Warmth and curiosity radiated from them.
His introversion finally got the better of him, and Sam broke eye contact when he finally approached her place on the couch. Sitting down, he focused on his book bag to look for whatever it was he was going to study – before he'd gotten sidetracked by this beautiful girl beside him.
"Why, hello there," a melodic voice whispered to him. Sam stilled and glanced over towards the sweet sound, a shy smile on his lips.
The sapphire eyes sparkled, the dominant feature on her heart-shaped face, and literally took his breath away. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what would come out.
With a start, Sam opened his eyes, confused, and sat up in bed. He blinked several times, unable to see anything. He reached out in front of him and heard the soft snores of his roommate across the room. That was when he realized, it had all been a dream.
Rubbing his eyes, Sam pushed himself back against the wall and sighed. Only a dream. Blue eyes and golden hair danced in his mind, reminding him of the powerful clarity of something that would never happen. No matter how vivid it had been, the girl he'd dreamed about didn't exist.
So how come he felt like he had actually seen her?
The sound of a snorting snore came again from his roommate, and Sam laughed to himself. If Dean were here, he'd tell Sam he needed to get laid or something. As it was, he'd be hard-pressed to get back to sleep.
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The next afternoon found Sam Winchester riding up the elevator of the Green Library to his favorite study place: the fourth floor Reading Area. Blissfully quiet, where he could spread out on the large, comfy couch near the large windows and study, listen to his music, and ponder the mysteries of the world.
He ignored the prickling on the back of his neck that warned him that he'd done this before. The heavy doors slid open and Sam stepped out of the car. And looked up.
And saw blond hair, as radiant as the sun – golden curls cascaded down her back, the light from the large, plain windows playing off it like the sun against water. His grey existence suddenly became a little bit brighter.