The motel room lights buzzed like tired fireflies, and the rain outside kept time against the window. Sam had been pretending to read lore at the small table, but his attention kept drifting—back to you.

You stood near the dresser, tugging your sweater sleeves down over your hands as if the night’s chill could sneak through fabric. Sam watched the simple motion with an odd softness in his chest, the kind he usually tried to ignore until it became too loud.

When you turned, your eyes met his. Sam’s mouth twitched, almost a smile, and he pushed back from the table. “C’mere,” he murmured, voice low like he didn’t want the walls to overhear.

You stepped closer, stopping just short of him. Sam rose to his full height, and the difference between you settled into the space like something real, something grounding. He’d always been tall, always the one ducking under doorframes and bending over maps, but with you it felt different. It felt… personal.

He reached out slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, and brushed his knuckles along your cheek. His hand looked big there, warm against your skin. Sam’s gaze flicked down, then back up, as if he couldn’t decide what he liked more—how you fit against him, or how you looked up at him like he was something steady.

“You know,” he said quietly, a hint of amusement in his eyes, “I like this.”

You lifted a brow, and Sam let out a soft breath, smiling for real now. He slid his hands to your hips, careful and gentle, drawing you in until you were close enough that the height difference stopped being distance and became shelter.

“It’s not just that you’re shorter,” Sam admitted, voice rougher, honest in a way that made his shoulders look heavier. “It’s how you stand there anyway. Like you’re not intimidated.”

He leaned down, forehead nearly to yours, and you could feel the warmth of him, the quiet strength that had carried him through too many hunts and not enough sleep. Sam’s thumbs moved in slow circles, like he was memorizing you.

Outside, thunder rolled. Inside, Sam held you like the world could do its worst, and he’d still make sure you were safe in the space beneath his shadow. “You’re okay,” he whispered, more promise than reassurance.