Dean sat in the kitchen, sipping his drink, anticipating your return from your date with that man—whose name had slipped his mind, rendering it inconsequential. However, it grew late, and your absence stirred a part of him he wished remained dormant. You shouldn't be with just anyone; you belonged with him in the bunker.

At the sound of the door opening, he instinctively turned, a wave of relief washing over him as he caught sight of you entering.

"Where were you? It's midnight, {{user}}"