At work today I had this idea floating around in my head and I had to get it out! Hope you like it :)
Everybody loves the things you do
From the way you talk
To the way you move...
Everybody here is watching you
'Cause you feel like home
You're like a dream come true
You sit on the rickety bar stool nursing your drink. The ice has melted and cool droplets decorate the outside of the glass keeping your hands cool. You should not have come, you had told yourself about a hundred times. When you had stood in the bathroom curling your hair or putting on that mascara, you knew it would lead to no good. But you couldn't help yourself. And here you sat. People surround him, mostly women. You watch as their eyes dance with amusement at his words. They hang onto everything he says. But you can't blame them. You know exactly what it is to be captured by his every word. You had been there.
Your eyes roam over him, studying the very person you once knew so well. He was older, yes, but something about his smile told you that he was very much the same. His green eyes are lit with excitement as he animatedly describes some situation. His body is still sculpted from years of hunting; you remembered the scars and marks that still mark his skin even now. The only signs of age that have begun to show are the lines that form when he smiles or the slight wrinkling by his eyes when he is thinking.
You feel yourself slipping back to familiar feelings and huff with exasperation. This wasn't what you came for. And then he lifts his eyes and they meet yours in a familiar gaze from across the room. Your breath hitches in your throat as you have been caught gazing at him. You turn away quickly with your thoughts racing through your mind. You curse under your breath and then without any further hesitation you take the last drink and let the ice cubes sit. You stand and grab your black leather jacket that had been draped on the stool next to you.
When you turn to leave, he's standing before you. And for a moment you are paralyzed.
" (Y/N)." He says your name in a way that makes your stomach tighten. Like anyone who ever said it before or after him had no right to ever speak it. And you both know it.
"Dean." You try to keep your voice from quivering.
But if by chance you're here alone
Can I have a moment?
Before I go?
'Cause I've been by myself all night long
Hoping you're someone I used to know
"I didn't expect you to be here. You're leaving?" He glances down at your jacket. You smile sheepishly, either the alcohol or him intoxicating you so soon. You shrug not knowing what to say.
Dean tries again, "Have you been here long?"
You shake your head, "Just got here." You lie.
"Relocating then?" He smirks.
You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. He knows that you are avoiding him and you know this is his way of challenging you.
"No." You try to keep it short.
Dean chuckles "Let me buy you a drink." It is not a request and before you know it you are sitting at the bar once again. Only this time he is beside you and you cannot focus on a single thing.
I was so scared to face my fears
Cause nobody told me that you'd be here
And I swore you moved overseas
That's what you said, when you left me
It's hard to win me back
Everything just takes me back
To when you were there
"It's been awhile." He says after he places a bourbon old fashioned in front of you. He didn't even have to ask, he remembers. You cannot even argue as you take a sip of the drink and hope that you will gain some liquid courage.
"Only six years." You glance at him and are relieved to find him smiling. It's like meeting an old friend…or coming home. You are on edge, but not because of him. You are worried about what you might say. But being back in his presence is comforting and safe. You can't even think about what happened so long ago. None of that seems to matter. You always wondered what it would be like if you ran into him again, what you would say and how you would feel. All that has slipped away.
Dean grins, "But hey, who's counting?"
He has a glass of whiskey in front of him that he hasn't taken a drink from yet.
"I'm surprised you're here." He says, his voice lower than usual.
You nod, "I thought about not coming. Would have been easier."
Dean licks his lips, "(Y/N)," he pauses to laugh once more, "You really wouldn't be you if you didn't think that way."
And you know he still knows you just as well he you know him.
To when you were there
And a part of me keeps holding on
Just in case it hasn't gone
I guess I still care
Do you still care?
"Well I'm here, so that has to count for something." You say.
"What made you come?" Dean looks at you, his eyebrow arched. You sigh and look away. What type of person were you to subject yourself to this? You had thought about him far too often and when you heard that he might be here you had to see him. Before it was too late.
"What do you want me to say?" You counter.
"The truth would be a good start." Dean says.
"Does it make a difference?" You know you are falling into that old trap, but you want to. You want this with him. If this is the only thing connecting you two, you will hold onto it. In the back of your mind you think if he still feels how you do in this moment there is still hope.
"Does to me." Dean turns to face you. His jaw is set in pure determination and you tilt your head at him. You know this look. As you turn to face him you see the way he looks at you. His eyes briefly falter to look at you the same way you have been looking at him all night. There is a flash in his eyes of desire so brief you may have missed it if it was not something you had engraved into your memory.
"Just wanted to see some old friends." You say pointedly.
Dean stares at you for a moment and then he smiles and your knees go weak.
It was just like a movie
It was just like a song
My God, this reminds me
Of when we were young
"So you have a habit of staying in Sioux Falls or just here for tonight?" Dean asks. You think about his question and how easy the lies can slip off your tongue. But you are tired of lying and hiding your thoughts. You did that so much. That was part of the problem. Now that there is no consequence, now that you have reached the lowest point with him, there is no reason to lie. He has seen it all.
"I'm passing through actually, probably leave tonight." You tell him.
"Remember the last time we were here?" Dean motions over to the opposite side of the bar. You follow where his gaze has ended and can't describe what you begin to feel.
How could you forget this?
Dean and you had your last kiss at this bar. Back then he tasted like whiskey and mint, now he probably does of your last kiss makes you want to reach out to him. But you cannot. His not yours anymore. You knew it had to end even though it was not what you wanted. But you were both kids back then. You weren't ready for how alive he made you feel. You were not ready for what he could give you. And he felt the same. But you assumed that would come.
You take a breath, "Why would your bring that up Dean?" You try your best not to glare at him, but it comes naturally.
"I think about it sometimes." He admits.
You know the feeling.
"You think things could have been different?" You cross the invisible line you had drawn for yourself. Dean swirls his glass around as he stares at the amber liquid. A brief thought flashes in your mind, he is the one and anyone after him is a mere placeholder. And it scares you. Deep down, you know you aren't ready to let go.
Dean doesn't say anything for a few moments.
"I wish it could have been."
Let me photograph you in this light
In case it is the last time
That we might be exactly like we were
Before we realized
We were sad of getting old
It made us restless
I'm so mad I'm getting old
It makes me reckless
It was just like a movie
It was just like a song
When we were young
You wish you had more to drink. The honesty is too much. It becomes apparent that Dean feels the same as he finishes his entire glass in one swift motion. He doesn't even shudder as he stands to his feet and looks down at you.
"Dean?" Your voice is not your own.
"It's a beautiful ring (Y/N), congratulations."
As he walks away your stomach feels sick.
Your engagement ring rests delicately on your finger.