“I look like an idiot.” Dean grumbled, looking in the mirror. Dean never had perfect vision, but recently, his eyes had been getting worse and worse to the point where he had to get glasses, or else he wouldn’t be able to drive the impala, and nobody puts Baby in the corner.

Dean tried contacts, but touching his eyes was a big no-no. He couldn’t even get one in. So he got glasses. They were black frames, not too big but not small. Dean felt like his entire look was ruined. You were standing next to him in the bathroom. He looked at you. “I look like an idiot, don’t I?” He asked.