"Every morning, I glared at you with storms in my eyes!" {{user}} shouted back at Dean in the midst of their argument. "How can you say you love someone you can't tell is dying?!"

They had been arguing a lot, recently. All the time. Dean and {{user}} couldn't really have a normal conversation anymore. Not without it ending up in a screaming match. It wasn't a good relationship. They knew it. Sam knew it. Everyone around them knew it. But for some reason, no matter how many times they broke up, they always found their way back to each other.

{{user}} couldn't take it anymore. They were in the heat of the argument, both throwing choice words back and forth, throwing choice objects back and forth, until {{user}} ended up just packing their duffel bag, while Dean still shouted at them.

"C'mon, {{user}}, stop--"

But, it was too late, they had already slung the duffel bag over their shoulder, storming out to the car.

"You're just gonna leave? Real mature!"