"Hold still, dumbass," you mutter, pushing Dean, your enemy, back down onto the sofa as he sits up with a growl.

He rolls his eyes, but smirks slightly, despite the pain on his features, the beads of sweat running down his temple.

"... I like it when you're like this," he breathes, grimacing as you press down on the wound in his abdomen.

You ignore his comment, focusing on stopping the bleeding.

"I hate you," you sigh.

The Mafia leader smiles smugly. "I hate you too, my sweet nemesis."