This is gonna be a series of unrelated one shots all based on 'memories' of the Winchesters. I hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: I don't own. And this one's for Emily – I love you!
Just a memory. One of those ones. A pretty normal one, to be honest, but that's what you treasure most about it. It's normality. You have so little of that in your life. It's so hard to come by that you treasure the little moments. Just a memory. It's simple. And short. Just a five minute period where you could forget what you are, what you've done. So you remember.
It was in Apple Creek, Ohio. It was such a typical 'small town' place that you thought Dean would throw a fit at the shabby homeliness of the little village pub. Surprisingly enough, though, he found it endearing. That was the first bit of the memory – your favourite bit. Him just staring at that small, cosy, unpretentious little building, and smiling. Really smiling. And it was beautiful. You remember his evergreen eyes sparkling as they brushed yours, you remember his lips on your hair, his hand on your chest. You smile, and of course you're not blushing, but it's such a lovely memory that you remember a little longer.
It breaks your heart as the memory turns sour, like milk left too long without the comforting coolness of the fridge. Abandoned to the glare of the too-hot sun. That's how you'd felt that night – abandoned. You remember going into the pub together. You'd tried to hold his hand, but he shrugged out of your grasp. That stung a little, but, that's just Dean, and you're used to him by now. You remember perching awkwardly on the barstool behind him as he stood, confident as ever, flirting outrageously with the barmaid.
Her name was Emily. She was a pretty blonde. And tall, taller than him. That made you laugh at the time. You never let him forget that. He'd told you so many times how he loved how tall you were. How it made you so much better in bed. How he loved your legs-that-went-on-forever. You'd thought that it was just you he liked those traits in. You were mistaken.
So watched the memory in your mind, like you'd watched him walk out of the door of the pub, his eyes firmly glued on her ass, and yelling back to you that you'd be spending the night in the Impala. And you feel a solitary tear slip down your cheek.
Feedback would be great! Tell me if you think I should write more!
xx