The evening sun cast a golden glow across the motel room, filtering through the thin curtains. Dean Winchester sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at the fading light. His green eyes, usually so sharp and filled with determination, were softened by a rare moment of reflection. He’d just come back from a rough hunt, the kind that left both physical and emotional scars.

You watched him from the bathroom door, the man you loved—the man who was as hard to touch as he was to take. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and it showed in the way he sat, slightly hunched, lost in thought.

Worry about him echoed in your mind as you stepped closer, hesitating before gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

Dean looked up at you, those green eyes meeting yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. He was complicated—beautiful in his strength but burdened by the life he led. “You okay?” you asked, your voice quiet, sitting beside him.

“Yeah,” he replied softly. “Just thinking… about us. About everything.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “This life… it’s not easy. But you’re still here.”