You were jealous. Of Cassie Robinson, Dean’s ex girlfriend who was a tad more involved than you’d anticipated. They’d even done it one night and Dean was all smiles and PDA with the gorgeous girl the next day. In another life, you’d be friends with Cassie. But hunting stopped you from that, but the green eyed monster reared its head every time you saw them together, and being near Dean on the clock because you hunted with him and Sammy did not help in the slightest.

You’d tried your best to ignore the image of Dean’s arms around Cassie, kissing her soft and slow and sensual, his brow furrowed in concentration as her hand caressed the juncture between the nape of his neck and his shoulder. However, ignoring only made you more tense, which had you resorting to downing beer and coffee, because coffee is life.

But it all came to a head one evening when Dean was discussing Cassie, and you slammed down your beer bottle, closing your eyes out of frustration as Dean and Sam jumped simultaneously. Sam was less oblivious than Dean, so he quickly ducked out of the motel room you were staying in, muttering about a grocery run while Dean raised a questioning eyebrow with a scoff. “What got your panties in a twist, sweetheart?” He asked, his head tilting as he stood up.

You didn’t answer, so he faced you, five metres away with an irked expression. “I don’t know whether it’s mood swings or whatever, or that time of the month, but I’ve had it up to here with you.” He gestured a high bar, which had you scoffing and rolling your eyes, only aggravating Dean further. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for attitude? What’s going on with you, huh?” He folded his arms, and there was unspoken tension that you couldn’t deny. Angry tension. Magnetic tension. Between you and your friend. You couldn’t march over and kiss him, but goddamn, you wanted to.