( he doesn't allow himself to fall into the trap that is her skin, the vessel of warmth she embodies. it's no secret dean's infatuation with women, but she's far more than a simple prototype. the way she'd fought, hell, the way she'd hunted, he has to wonder how long it is she's been at it, with scars like these to tell the tales of all she's conquered. needless to say, although his mind has a tendency to wander quite inappropriately, he holds a great deal of respect for the girl currently left open before him, back turned in both trust and an offering.
and yet still, he's just a man. it's easy to map out her figure, even in the way his clothes practically drape over her, picking up on the subtle notes of sammy's shampoo, some natural ingredient shit infused with argan and rose-something. it's not just that, though, but the way it mixes with the gentle scent that can only be ascribed to her. he's quiet, as she explains, and it's pretty clear that the way she operates is a lot neater than him and his brother. they scope the news, interrogate and reel for headways; not that he's ever seen one, but she's pretty damn close to what he'd figured would be a 'professional-type' hunter.
he's delicate with her—not to claim her fragile, but an apology in touch-form for the hydroxide eating away at any traces of dirt left along the raw flesh of the wound. ) I read the article. ( tone's a little more sullen, like a pit of anger much like her own wells inside his chest. ) About the girls. Authorities indicated a sixth, but she'd been drained. Little did they know exactly how.
( a beat, and he's ducking down to blow a bit of cool air against the bubbling white of peroxide, hands quick to the draw in retrieving a bit of gauze, the telltale peel of a bandage's wrapper being pulled back. butterfly bandages, to be exact. she'd heal, but it'd take a fair amount of time to close on its own. )
Think it's safe to say you wrapped up your mission. ( not that it ever feels that easy to close case for dean, not with the casualties. as far as he's concerned, the more deaths only indicated how much quicker he should've gone. ) Scumbags deserved a lot worse, always do, but the town's a hell of a lot safer with one less nest. ( a soothing touch to press the bandage to her skin, thumbing along its edge afterward almost absentmindedly. )
no subject
and yet still, he's just a man. it's easy to map out her figure, even in the way his clothes practically drape over her, picking up on the subtle notes of sammy's shampoo, some natural ingredient shit infused with argan and rose-something. it's not just that, though, but the way it mixes with the gentle scent that can only be ascribed to her. he's quiet, as she explains, and it's pretty clear that the way she operates is a lot neater than him and his brother. they scope the news, interrogate and reel for headways; not that he's ever seen one, but she's pretty damn close to what he'd figured would be a 'professional-type' hunter.
he's delicate with her—not to claim her fragile, but an apology in touch-form for the hydroxide eating away at any traces of dirt left along the raw flesh of the wound. ) I read the article. ( tone's a little more sullen, like a pit of anger much like her own wells inside his chest. ) About the girls. Authorities indicated a sixth, but she'd been drained. Little did they know exactly how.
( a beat, and he's ducking down to blow a bit of cool air against the bubbling white of peroxide, hands quick to the draw in retrieving a bit of gauze, the telltale peel of a bandage's wrapper being pulled back. butterfly bandages, to be exact. she'd heal, but it'd take a fair amount of time to close on its own. )
Think it's safe to say you wrapped up your mission. ( not that it ever feels that easy to close case for dean, not with the casualties. as far as he's concerned, the more deaths only indicated how much quicker he should've gone. ) Scumbags deserved a lot worse, always do, but the town's a hell of a lot safer with one less nest. ( a soothing touch to press the bandage to her skin, thumbing along its edge afterward almost absentmindedly. )