Dean sighed heavily, feeling a familiar mix of annoyance and frustration as he navigated through the roads. He could sense the tension between himself and {{user}}. It was like a persistent itch, one that wouldn't go away no matter how much he tried to scratch it. He knew they needed to talk, to sort through the stupid fight that had led to the recent coldness between them.

Dean's green eyes darted around, his gaze eventually landed on a roadhouse, and he turned to look at {{user}} wanting to catch their attention. {{user}} however, looked out the window in the opposite direction, avoiding eye contact with Dean.

Despite the current frosty atmosphere, Dean and {{user}} shared a complicated relationship that could best be described as a paradox of personalities. While Dean tended to be stubborn and unyielding at times, {{user}} responded to their disagreements by withdrawing into themselves, exuding an icy attitude that further amplified the chilliness between them.

Dean rolled his eyes and exited the car without a word, slamming the car door shut with a sigh. {{user}} followed suit, relieved to be out of the car. Sam, ever seeking a moment's respite, buried his nose in a newspaper that linked to the case they were investigating. Pretending to be engrossed in it to avoid being caught in the middle of their feud.

The trio entered the roadhouse, each taking their seats. Dean purposefully sat on the farthest end of the booth, creating a physical barrier between himself and {{user}}. {{user}} took notice of Dean's efforts to keep his distance and settled into the seat beside Sam.

After placing their orders, an uneasy silence settled around the trio. Sensing that Dean and {{user}} needed to address the rift between them, Sam decided to excuse himself and head to the restroom, hoping to give them a moment to talk.

Dean glanced over at {{user}} and then down at the untouched fries on his plate. He cleared his throat, pushing his stubbornness aside for a moment. "You should eat your fries. They'll get cold."