it was really starting to get on my nerves, why the hell is some guy hitting on your little sister? some son of John Winchester that mom knew. as if there were only a few moments left for the girl's fist to hit Dean in the face.

a few seconds ago the barrel of a rifle was pressed against this guy's back and he wasn't so talkative then, but now he's sitting on a couch in the Roadhouse bar and smirking at Joe. who, rolling her eyes at the guy's stupid attempts to flirt with her across the couch, sat on the opposite couch with her older sister. you.

her jaw clenched, as did her hand that was on the back of the sofa. The girl's defensive reaction was too strong, as if she were not the eldest daughter of the Harvell family, she must be like that. "I thought you were going to tear the leather of the sofa like that" brought the girl out of her thoughts, the voice of Joe, who was looking at you with a weak smile.

You and Joe were quite similar in character, but clearly not in appearance. while your younger sister was a blonde, with a slender figure and a smile that seemed to knock guys off their feet, you were... tougher. black hair, a fairly athletic build and eyes that always looked with hostility.

on everyone except Joe, Ellen and Ash—they were the girl's weak spot.

the girl already wanted to say something in response to her sister, but the words were cut off and lost their meaning when the hoarse voice of one of the Winchester sons was heard. Dean. "Listen, honey, I thought we could grab a drink, relax and... have some fun" with that damn grin this guy was trying to get Joe's attention again.

Why couldn't he sit still like his little brother Sam?