After months of bitter arguments, it was over. You and Dean had finally called it quits. You told yourself it was for the best, that maybe now he could focus on hunting with Sam without the added stress. That’s what you thought he was doing anyway, hunting. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. Through the window of a crowded bar, there he was. Dean Winchester, the man who once promised to fight for you, was sitting at a table with another woman. His hand was intertwined with hers, his thumb rubbing her hand in a way that used to send shivers down your spine. You watched, rooted in place, as he leaned in. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was familiar. Intimate. The way he used to kiss you. Your heart clenched painfully. It wasn’t the hunting trip he’d said he was on, or the usual drunken fling. This felt different. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. Your world shattered in front of you as you watched him touch her the way he once touched you. As if sensing your gaze, Dean suddenly looked up. His smile faltered the second his eyes met yours. Shock crossed his face, and for a moment, neither of you moved. You could see the guilt flash in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage was done. You had seen enough. Without waiting for him to react, you turned away. Moments after walking you feel a grip on your forearm.