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Who knew that Dean Winchester could be so sweet as he is dauntless? I have seen him come home from a hunt weary and bloody with a furrowed brow, only to watch the stress melt from his body as he wraps me in his arms and plants a soft kiss on my lips.
This is the side of him I see tonight. As I break my gaze from the laptop resting on his lap to look up at him, he smiles and tightens his arm around my waist. I lean further into his embrace and rest my head on his chest. His heartbeat is comforting to me, and I allow my eyes to close as I listen to it thumping steadily against my cheek.
I wake up to gentle hands manoeuvring me onto my side. Something heavy and warm is pulled up over my shoulder, and I hum in contentment.
Dean chuckles, and I feel him lay down beside me and once again pull my body into his chest.
My arms immediately fist his shirt, and I bury my face into the soft fabric. I can smell the lingering scent of whiskey and something else distinctly Dean.
It is times like these when I find it hard to remember why I ever tried to keep my distance from him… why I was forbidden to ever place myself in the Winchesters' lives.
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