The room was quiet, the faint buzz of a flickering bulb above casting weak light over the worn furniture. You barely had time to steady your breath before you felt it—a shift in the air, heavy and charged.

Ruby leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her dark eyes swept over you slowly, deliberately, like she was savoring the moment.

“Still running on empty, huh? Dean barking orders, Sam lost in his books… and you? You’re just here, carrying all their weight. Funny how no one ever asks how long you can keep it up.”

She stepped into the room, her boots clicking softly against the floor. Every step felt measured, deliberate, until she stopped just a breath away.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. Pretend you’re fine. Not with me.”

Her voice was low, soft, and it slipped under your skin before you could stop it.

You tensed, gripping the blade in your hand tighter.

“Relax.” Her lips curved into a teasing smile. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it already. You know that. And deep down, I think you like it—that I’m not them.”

Her words wrapped around you like smoke, suffocating and intoxicating all at once. She circled you slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.