Guilt. That’s all Dean ever felt nowadays. He hated it. Loathed it. Yet again, someone got killed under his watch. Kevin. A kid, in his eyes anyways

He’d just been washing his hands, eyes a strained red from guilt ridden tears, jaw clenched and when he saw his… pathetic expression in the mirror, that’s all when it went to hell

He began throwing things, smashing up the TV, the mirror, scattered shards of glass and plastic littered the floor, several loud vibrating thuds of each item hitting the floor, and that’s when you walked in. The last person he wanted to see him like this. His girlfriend.

Despite everything, he stopped, eyes a dangerous narrowed shape, chest heaving, knuckles cut and clenched into fists. He swallows thickly, he can’t be angry at you.

“{{user}}… stay out sweetheart.”