Recently, you have been looking Dean’s face more than usual, noticing something that you haven’t really recognized before— faint freckles across his cheeks and delicate nose.

How haven’t you noticed this before? You always caught yourself looking at him when you weren’t focused on something else. Maybe because it was that you’ve just never been this close to him before.

His brows furrowed when he looked over at you, giving you a small look of inquiry as he wetted his bottom lip.

“Got somethin’ on my face?” he piped up, wiping whatever nonexistent thing was present on his when he ran his large palms over his face.

“You’re freakin’ me out, {{user}}. Startin’ to make me feel like I’m always catching you lookin’ at me,” he said, looking down at his hands as if to check for any remnants of anything that might’ve been his face.

Sure, you were at a diner with Dean just like any other time but the lighting in here happened to be exquisite, showing every perfection and imperfection that was presant on his face.