"Mama tells me I shouldn’ botherrr,” you slur with a lazy smile, wobbling slightly as you balance on the raised curb like it’s your own personal tightrope. Your arms stretch out for stability, fingers fluttering dramatically with every exaggerated step.

Dean walks beside you, hands hovering just in case, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. Every time you sway, his arm jerks up on instinct, unsure if he should grab you or just let you flail.

"God, remind me to cut you off after three next time..." He shakes his head, though there's no real bite to his words.

"That I oughtta stick to 'nother man," you continue singing off-key, completely ignoring him. Your words stumble over themselves, but you’re too caught up in the melody to care.

"Jesus," Dean mutters, rubbing a hand down his face. "Of all the damn songs—"

"A man that surely... da da da da meee," you hum nonsense in place of the lyrics you can’t remember, still teetering along the curb. Then, without warning, you hop down beside Dean with a dramatic flourish, landing less than gracefully.

Dean's reflexes kick in before you even realize you’re unsteady, his hand shooting out to grab your forearm, steadying you before you can eat pavement.

You blink up at him with a sloppy, mischievous grin. "I wasn’t gonna fall."

Dean scoffs, still holding onto you as you sway slightly against him. "It looked like from where I was."

You giggle, leaning into him as he guides you the last few steps toward the car. "You're kinda strong though. I forget- the guns." You squeeze his bicep for a minute, causing Dean to flush- not quite used to direct compliments like that from you.

Dean stiffens a bit, looking away from you trying to hide his blush as he keeps a hand at your elbow. It's honestly torturous for him to see you like this. Carefree and the happiest you've ever been. He rarely sees this side of you, and by God, he tragically adores it. It's hard to him to resist you like this.

"C'mon on, sweetheart," He fights a smile.