Years had slipped by in a quiet suburban rhythm, filled with laughter echoing through the kitchen, mornings chasing each other out the door with coffee in hand, and evenings tangled together on the couch. You and Dean had built this life like two stubborn pieces that somehow fit perfectly—married, comfortable, and completely yours.

Tonight, you walked side by side toward the Impala, the street lights casting a soft glow over the driveway. Dean swayed slightly, a grin tugging at his lips as he leaned closer to you, eyes sparkling in that drunken way that made your heart flutter. “So… uh, your place or mine?” he slurred, as if forgetting for just a moment that you already shared the same roof. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him, the warmth of your life together settling around you both.