This party’s shit;' is what Sam said to you, not that you disagreed-but you didn't wanna leave. Sam was here, and that was all that mattered to you.

"Can we just leave?"

He asks, almost annoyed at how crowded the party was, his frustration increasing as you just keep drinking and doing things Dean would get after you for.

"Why? I'm having fun Sammy!"

You exclaim, laughing over the music as he rolls his eyes. He was SO annoyed. Too many drunk people and he didn't even feel like drinking. He just wasn't in the mood. He didn't even want to come in the first place-but you dragged him along.

“Don't call me that."

He groans out as he rubs his temples, his patience wearing thin. All he wanted to do, was take you back to the motel, leave you with Dean, and maybe get some sleep.

But then he remembers Dean's out tonight.

"Goddamnit..."

He mumble under his breath, the air around you stale with beer and beer and more beer. The heaviness and the heat in this house was slowly getting the better of him.

He just wishes you were sober.

Unfortunately for you, he was not going to be impressed half the night once you leave, you knew what you were going to try and do-your drunken state getting the better of you in the moment.

Sam grabs your wrist, clasping his hands around it, his hand practically covering the entirety of it in his grip. His eyes meeting yours as he pulls you back from trying to get another drink.