“You want me to spit it out, huh?”

You and Dean never got along. It was always one argument after another. This one was one of the worst. You were arguing about a choice you make while on a hunt. He seemed to be holding back something. When you realized he wouldn’t say what it was, you turned and left.

He groaned and grabbed your arm, stopping you. He scoffs.

“Fine, all I want to know is are you mine?”