Ugh I'm so behind on Supernatural, but here's a little something for 7:17
"I remember. I remember everything," he says, but he doesn't. You know he doesn't. He can't. Because if he did, why wasn't he kissing you right now? He remembers playing god – you can see that in his eyes – the cerulean brimming with guilt-pain-regret. He remembers who you are – you can see that in the way his lips quirk up into an almost-maybe-not-quite half-smile. But he doesn't remember you. He doesn't remember how you picked up the pieces when he fell, smashed, and painstakingly put him back together when all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't do the job, sealing the joins with rough caresses and messy kisses. Because if he remembered that, he wouldn't be standing four feet away from you with a tilt to his head. He'd be in your arms, lips crashing down on yours, tongue battling for dominance. Because it was always a battle with you. A battle for who was stronger, better, more righteous-
"Dean," he says softly, and your eyes snap up. "I do. I remember it all," and he's trying to tell you something with his eyes, but you're angry and frustrated and Sam's fucking dying in there, so you don't care for subtlety.
"So why won't you kiss me?" and it comes out a growl. You see him flinch. You don't care. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, so you close the distance between you with two quick strides, fisting your hand in his hair and yanking him forwards to meet your lips with his. Your teeth clash and it's sloppy, fast, out of rhythm because you're out of practice, but you feel him relax into it entirely, and some part of you takes that as a victory.
Thoughts?
xx