Smoking. You always did it when you were stressed it calmed your nerves, brought that sense of peace and on top of it all, you could watch the stars

No one knew about your little secret. Not even Dean. He could’ve sworn he smelt it on you a few times but he always thought it had come from one of the hunts

But you should’ve told him because now you’re outside the motel, leant against the boot of Baby and smoking. The thing is, Dean knew this all too well.

“What the hell are you doin’?”