"i got this for you," the young gentleman spoke, his voice echoing around the motel room. in his hands was a single rose, the red color bright against the moonlight. a gasp from the women standing opposite of him, and a quite thank you was uttered from her lips.

that got sam to glance up from his research, raising a doubtful eye at the gesture. he didn't understand flower giving. they're everywhere, couldn't you just pick some of your own if you really wanted them?

a sudden groan came from sam's right, and he took the time to glance over at his still asleep older brother. though surely woken up from the television audio. his suspicions were confirmed a moment later when his brother spoke. "jesus sam, turn it doowwn," dean groaned, rolling over so he was facing the ceiling and smothering himself with a pillow.

"it's not that loud," sam mumbled, rolling his eyes. he clicked the volume down despite his own complaints.

"where's {{user}}?" dean asked, yawning as he grudgingly sat up. "'m pretty sure they were here last night," he added, glancing around the room.

"they went to the store—groceries," sam hummed in response. a sudden knock at the door interrupted a piece of dialogue from the stupid soap opera the youngest winchester had clicked on, and both brothers glanced towards it.

squinting at the door, sam turned off the tv, and pushed himself to his feet. he meandered his way to the door, gripping the doorknob and twisting. it opened with a click. he noticed you first, the grocery bag in your hand; and then the bouquet in your hands.

"why'd you knoc—" he was immediately cut off.

when you shushed him, and held out the bundle of flowers, sam took his sweet time, looking between you and the flowers, before pointing at himself questioningly. confused puppy dog eyes met yours as he pursed his lips. "what?" he asked lamely.

it wasn't that he was ungrateful—he actually quite liked flowers, however girly dean said it was—it's just . . . he was perplexed. why would someone want to buy him flowers?