Beast in my Bones || Sam Winchester ||

|| Chapter 49 ||

Those signature hazel eyes and floppy hair greet me with a smile. "Hi."

I softly chuckle and pull the headphones down around my neck. "Hi, Sam."

"What're you reading?" he asks, taking a sip from his coffee.

This goofball just appeared out of nowhere and strikes up a conversation so nonchalantly. I smirk and slide the bookmark into place as he waits patiently for my response. It's adorable.

"Just your run-of-the-mill historical fiction. You probably wouldn't like it," I joke.

He hums in response, playing along. "Yeah, I hate that kind of stuff." I giggle from his blatant sarcasm, causing an immediate grin to pull at his lips.

He then reaches out for the book, which I promptly place in his hand. I watch him examine the cover, quickly reading, "The Alienist by Caleb Carr", before studying the summary on the back. "It any good?"

"Yeah, it's actually my favorite," I respond rather shyly.

This raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Why?"

"Why is it your favorite?" he clarifies, holding the book in his lap.

Caught off guard by the sudden deep question, I scramble for an intelligent response. Realistically I should be able to formulate an articulate answer that would rival some of my academic papers. But the blaringly intimate spotlight challenges my confidence.

"Uh. It's um..." He shifts to face me, placing a leg over the other, and drinks from his cup, eyes never leaving me. "It's an analytical dive into the human psyche. A group of people, each with their own investigative strengths, works as a team to piece together this complex depiction of a late nineteenth century serial killer. And I find it fascinating. The—not the killer part. Just the...you know what I mean."

I nervously fidget under his gaze and become self-conscious of my blathering. I'm not entirely used to being asked these kinds of questions as I'm typically the one who dishes them out, always seeking meaningful conversation. And he's the first to answer that call.

He smiles at my apprehension, almost admiring the passion and interest in my voice, and hands the book back to me. "I'll have to give it a read sometime."

I relax my shoulders from his calming reply. There's absolutely no need to be nervous around him, but sometimes I can't help it. "If you're into that kind of stuff."

Sam nods, smirking at the ground. "Totally."

"What made you leave campus to get a cup of coffee?" I ask. There are tons of places within walking distance from his dorm and he came all this way.

He turns the cup in his hand to point at the business label. "I wanted this one."

"Sam," I give him a look, "this is a Starbucks."

He glances around as if his decision to walk all the way to this one was completely devoid of any ulterior motive. "And?"

I narrow my eyes. "You just wanted coffee from this particular Starbucks?"

"Yep." He sneaks a peek to see if I'm buying his poorly orchestrated lie.

I'm not, for the record. "All right."

Tucking the book back into my bag, I reach for the candy and offer one to Sam. He quirks an eyebrow, inspecting the contents before grabbing a gummy. I pop one into mouth and watch some people passing by. It's quiet for a few moments between us, just enjoying each other's company, hidden in a small, intimate corner away from reality.