The car ride following your argument was awkward to say the least, the tension in the air thick enough to be cut with a knife, almost suffocating even. Usually, you'd at least be listening to the radio, the only sound filling the dead silence between you this time was the soft growl of the engine.

Dean was driving faster down the highway, more jerkily than usual, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He was mad, that much was obvious from the cold look of anger on his face that you rarely ever saw. Dean was mostly focusing on the road in front of him, occasionally glancing over at you from the side. He was trying to remain stoic, although he obviously seemed to have a lot on his mind.