Hunter noticed you before anyone else did.

Tucked beside Dean near the bar, caught in some quiet, conversation that clearly wasn’t casual anymore. Dean stood too close to you. Protective close. Not the usual smirking bullshit Dean used on random girls. This was different.

Hunter slowed to a stop near the entrance. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. Dean turned at the movement, and his expression changed completely. Confusion first, then something darker.

Hunter’s stomach dropped.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

The pieces slammed together all at once. The girl from a few nights ago. Dean suddenly acting territorial. The way you looked frozen now between them.

Hunter watched the understanding settle across his face in real time. Confusion first, then disbelief, then anger sharp enough to cut through the noise of the entire bar.

Hunter didn’t look away. Didn’t apologize either.

Dean started toward him slowly, shoulders tight, gaze locked on Hunter with the kind of intensity that made nearby conversations die out one by one. By the time he stopped in front of him, they were nearly chest to chest.

Hunter could feel you staring from somewhere behind Dean.

Wrong place, wrong person, bad timing. Though, there wasn’t an ounce of regret in his body.

Dean’s breathing had gone uneven now, restrained fury barely held together under the surface. Hunter glanced past him for half a second toward you, and Dean immediately stepped closer, blocking the line of sight entirely.

That did it.

Dean shoved him back hard enough for chairs nearby to scrape against the floor.

Hunter barely reacted beyond straightening again, jaw tightening slightly now from irritation rather than guilt. Dean looked like he wanted a reason to hit him.

And honestly, Hunter wasn’t backing down enough to help the situation.