You had no fucking clue why, just why, Dean Winchester made reading look pretty. It was just reading, as simple as that, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, and the lore could go to rot in hell. This was much more important, oh, sweet Lord.

Just reading, sure, but the way his fourth finger with the pretty-ass ring on it trailed down the page made it anything but— it wasn’t even that extravagant of a ring, just a loop of silver but it made you want to be the ring. Oh, his pouty lips, oh, the way the light shining in the curtains fell over his eyes, and oh, that small furrow between his brows as he read about the coven you two were investigating. All of it made you dizzy. Well, the coven could wait, cause right now? You were busy.

Didn’t help that he looked so good that your brain was turning to mush, that you were short-circuiting in your seat across the room over a man doing something as simple as reading. He was just too pretty, with his green eyes and casual position.

Unfortunately, he did have to be too gorgeous. So, what the fuck gives? Did he know what he was doing? Did he know he was so gorgeous it could give you an aneurysm? C’mon, you’d suffered enough at this point. Do yourself a favour and stop drooling over those plump, pretty lips that you wished would make out with your own till you were dizzy. Not to mention how you wanted to count every God-given freckle on his nose.

"Sweetheart." Dean’s voice had a chuckle to it, as lo and behold, he’d looked up from the book with a raised eyebrow and slightly tilted smile. Had he caught you? Most likely, you had been staring like a lovesick girl with her first crush, shit.

"Focus, c’mon." He encouraged, cause what was it with you today? You’d zoned out multiple times today. Then again, he was unaware of how gorgeous he looked at this moment. Stop staring, it’s pathetic. "Got lore to read, yeah?"

Right, lore. Lore exists, yeah.