Your name is the SUPERNATURAL FANDOM and you don't like him at all. He was weird. Very weird. His skin was pale gray, the color of shadow. His eyes glowed nocturnally, so in the daytime his pupils would be dilated and possess some disturbing golden color to them, while his irises were neon green. Like his blood color when you stabbed him with a dagger, accidently of course, he just startled you...somewhat. And that other time where you punched him the face when he got to close in your personal space.
You admit, you've had your fair share of attacking because just the other day you tried to talk to him and he nearly rammed you with those devil candy-corn horns. This may be your fault because when your met him, you weren't the nicest guy. In fact, you probably started off on the wrong foot. But the wrong foot ended up being the right foot because things made a path their own way.
When you had that dramatic update, he came over to you, and though he wasn't the best about the situation, he still comforted you.
"Nat..."
"Go away." You growled under your breath, moving away from him.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing happened in the recent episode?"
"No."
"Then why are you crying."
"I'm not fucking crying."
He leans over you and you flip out your wings to shield yourself and he shrieks and hops back a step. You let out a rough laugh, contorted by tears. Wait...no you're not...crying, you're just...
You have no words left. Actually, 'oh my god' is all you've really got left. You are expecting him to make a move or something. Jeer and laugh and do something crude or mean. But instead he just sits, glaring, but watching. And he doesn't go away. He doesn't LEAVE. He just inches closer every other minute.
His stare-down is like laser-beams. They are fucking burn like the fires of hell. And the emotional waves that are rolling off him strongly and you are pretty sure that they are not happy little sunshine waves.
They are 'i hate you so much but I don't think I could kill you' little waves. And then you feel his hand on yours and you drearily look up. And you are really shocked. His eyes, they reflect your own sorrow and anger, and you can see all the death ad pain he has gone through. The times where he has mentally and physically broken down. Cried his neon tears. Hugged someone. And babbled about the dead ones. That's him. And it's also you.
You lean into his hug.