Dean's apartment was bathe with a dim, amber glow, courtesy of the low-hanging lamps placed around the living room. The air was heavy with a mixture of cologne and the faint aroma of dinner, indicating a previous attempt at cooking that had likely ended in takeout. Dean lounged on the couch, an air of self-assuredness emanating from him.

{{user}} sat beside him, their gaze fixed on Dean, but their mind elsewhere, lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. They couldn't help but be drawn to him, his charisma pulling them in like a moth to a flame. Yet, beneath the surface, there lingered a sense of longing, a desire for something more than just stolen moments and whispered secrets.

'We keep it secret,' a bitter reminder of the hidden nature of their relationship. They couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped in the shadows, always yearning for something that seemed just out of reach.

Dean turned to {{user}}, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from their face. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?" he drawled, his voice smooth and confident, with a hint of arrogance that sent shivers down {{user}}'s spine.

'If I could see you', their inner turmoil threatening to consume them. They wanted to scream, to demand more from Dean, but they knew it was futile. He thrived on command, and they were merely a pawn in his game.

'Once more to see you', the thought echoed in {{user}}'s mind, a plea for a chance at something real, something meaningful.