The air hung quiet over the dimly lit motel parking lot, broken only by the distant hum of insects and the occasional creak of the old neon sign flickering above the office. The night was clear, crisp, stars scattered across the sky like a map you were quietly trying to read. You leaned back against the hood of the Impala, eyes lifted upward, content in the silence.

Dean stood beside you, arms crossed, flask in hand, but his eyes weren’t on the sky.

They were on you.

“…You always do that,” he said, voice low, rough like gravel but gentle too, like he didn’t want to disturb the calm. “Stare up there like you’re actually seein’ something more than gas and dust.”

He chuckled faintly, shifting his weight so his arm brushed yours lightly. Not enough to startle. Just enough to feel you were real.

“I used to look up like that. When I was a kid. Before life started throwin’ punches and forgot how to stop. Me and Sammy used to lie in the backseat when Dad was out on a hunt, pretendin’ the stars meant somethin’. Like we were just regular kids.”

He raised the flask, took a small sip, then handed it over to you with a casual flick of his wrist.

“Careful. It’s not top-shelf, but it gets the job done,” he said, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

You took it, and he watched you more than he meant to. The way your fingers curled around the metal, the way your mouth barely winced at the burn—it all lit something in him. Something that had been flickering quietly for years.

“You don’t even know,” he murmured, almost to himself, “how damn beautiful you look right now. Just… peaceful. Like the world hasn’t touched you the way it’s touched me.”

He paused, looking down for a second, flask back in his hand.

“I’ve been tryin’ to figure out why it’s so hard to say things to you. Stuff I’d say to anyone else in a heartbeat. But you? You make me feel like I’ve still got something left worth protectin’. And that scares the hell outta me.”

He let out a slow breath and leaned back beside you again, eyes flicking to the stars but drifting right back to your face.