Dean watched you as you grabbed onto your cup, taking a sip out of it before putting it back down onto the table to pick up your fork and continue as you were before— eating.

He cocked his head slightly, brows furrowing subtly as he saw how you grabbed the fork, noticing the difference between your hand and fingers compared to the silverware.

Looking back down at his hand, and the at yours, a small smile made its way onto his lips as a thought had crossed his mind.

Resting his elbow on the table, he suddenly raised his hand up in front of you, spreading his fingers apart.

“Hey,” he piped up, keeping his hand where it was as he now gazed across the table at you. “Put your hand on mine, I wanna see somethin’— jus’ don’t make it weird.”