you watched as dean came out of his room, going to the fridge to retrieve another beer. it’d been 3 months now since he’d come back from hell, his demeanor off. he began refusing your attempts to hang out, barely talking to you anymore with that affection you’d grown so accustomed to.

“you’ve changed,” you blurted without thinking, keeping your gaze on him as he turned his back to you, retreating back into his room.

“didn’t know i had to stay the same,” he retorted, a harsh attitude laced with his words. it was as if he was angry at everything, just mad at the world. you sighed, resignation present in the way you stayed quiet.

he noticed when you didn’t say anything back, turning to see the underlying sadness on your face. he felt bad, of course, but he couldn’t talk to you about it. he wouldn’t dare inflict that emotional distress on you. “i’m sorry… it’s just..” he sighed, running a hand down his face “it’s hard.”