John's face is pulled in a scowl. You're calmly sat behind the reception desk when they came stomping in all bruised, John in particular, a slam of his hand on the counter as he checks himself and Dean and Sam behind him, Dean eyes linger on you. He finds you cute, adorable even, you're attractive, caught his eye as he temporarily ignored John's anger and the own sting of his injuries. Later that evening, when everyone are getting ready to sleep in the hotel rooms, Dean jogged downstairs walking to the reception, for you. "Hey, I came to ask if I can get a towel?" He made up a quick request just to see you and have you around just a bit.