From the moment Sam first laid eyes on you, he knew he was in love — as cliché as it was. You were beautiful, and the more he got to know you, the deeper he fell for you. Every little thing about you was perfect, from the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, to your habit of biting your lip when you concentrated. As time passed, your friendship evolved into something a bit more romantic.

But something always held Sam back. In private, the two of you were all over eachother, in more ways than one. It was the opposite in public. You'd begged and pleaded with him to do the things he promised he would, but he could never bring himself to. If the world wasn't as cruel as it was, he would've done anything you asked of him. You wanted a future, a family with him. Sam knew that was something he'd never be able to provide. Hunting was what controlled his life, and that didn't include a happy ending, as tempting as it was.

He was pulling away, and he knew it. Your pain was so obvious, and he knew he caused it. During your everyday life, he acted as if you were just a friend. His loved ones didn't even know you were dating — it was a well-kept secret, something just for the two of you. He wanted more, he wanted a normal life with you, but it was just something he knew he'd never get. His dreams of a better life with you would have to suffice — they were the closest thing he could get to it becoming a reality. Though, as you stood by him underneath the tin awning outside of his and Dean's motel room, he could feel his heart aching.

His breath clouded in the chilly air, brows knitted together as he looked on at your stiffened form, hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. Sam swallowed thickly, the muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried not to say something he'd regret. The alcohol he'd consumed on your little rendezvous was buzzing his system, clouding his judgment. In a sudden move, his big hands grabbed your face. For the very first time, the phrase left Sam's lips.

“I love you.”