When the door swung open, and you stood there—you—the girl from the magazine stashed under his mattress, the fantasy he’d never admit to anyone, Dean froze. You looked exactly like you did in the glossy pages, only… more real. Your hair was tied back in a messy bun, and you wore a worn tank top and sweatpants. No makeup, no glitz, no glamour. But that confidence, that spark in your eyes, it was unmistakable. And right now, you were staring at him and Sam, waiting for them to say something. “Can I help you?” Your tone calm but slightly wary, your hand resting on the edge of the door. Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out. His brain had short circuited, and he was pretty sure he looked like an idiot standing there with his mouth half open. Sam, thankfully, stepped in. “Hi, I’m Sam, and this is my brother, Dean. We’re looking into some strange activity in the area. Mind if we ask you a few questions?” Your eyes flicked between the two of them, lingering on Dean for a moment longer than necessary. “Strange activity?” Dean finally snapped out of his daze, forcing himself to focus on the job. “We’re just following up on some reports, we heard there’s been some weird stuff happening around here. Figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.” You stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in. The brothers stepped into your apartment, and Dean immediately took in his surroundings.