Venom

018

Helen looked at him with air of superiority. "Then I guess you'll have to wait a long, long time. I can be very patient," she stated, taking a step back.

Dean licked his lips, smiling. "Oh yeah?"

Jesus Christ. Two words, and her armor was crumbling. Would she really be able to resist him? How long would she able to tell him to get lost? "Hm-mh," she affirmatively hummed.

He knew her well enough to see her slowly surrendering to him. Or maybe it was his own surrender he saw reflected in her. Whatever. He wouldn't yield. He was going to keep his head high and wait for her to be the one on her knees for the other. Yep. Either that, or nothing would happen between them. Yeah.

"Are you gonna eat those noodles?" she whispered then. He laughed, walking past her, back into the bedroom where he finally put on some pants.

Dean shook his head. "No. You can have them."

"Awesome," she exclaimed, picking up her bowl and finishing her dinner while he made his.

~~~

November 24th, 2019 - Lander, Wyoming.

There wasn't much noise outside the house. Every now and then a car passed by, but it was late at night, and everyone had gone to sleep by that time on a Sunday. It was almost midnight, and yet the two young lovers were still sitting at the dining table, laughing at some joke one of them told.

The girl had tears in her eyes after cackling so much, and her soon-to-be husband was just finishing cleaning the kitchen, the leftovers of his laughter still visible on his face.

Drying her eyes, the girl said, "Alright, I'll go take out the trash." She didn't go far. His arms were around her waist in a second, his chest gently pressed against her back.

"It can wait," he said, kissing her neck softly.

She hummed, leaning into his touch. "It can't. It'll take a minute," she told him, though her neck rolled as he placed kisses along her shoulder. "Ty..." she called him.

"Hmm, I love it when you call me that," he breathed on her neck, squeezing her waist.

She chuckled, but her breath hitched as his hand slid lower, brushing against the waistband of her pajamas bottoms. "Ty," she called again, and he let out a breathy laugh, snuggling his nose in the crook of her neck.

"Wait for me here. I'll take it out," he told her, slightly pinching her ass with two fingers.

She winced. "Hey!" she said, but laughed as he left the room with the trash bags in his hands. She sat at the table, waiting for him to come back and finish what he'd started.

She noticed he'd forgotten a bag, so she picked it up to give it to him. But how she wished she'd never gone out that night. Or let him go out in the first place.

She opened the door, looking forward, where Tyler - her Tyler - was standing. The bags were in his hands, and she was sucking in the air to shout his name, not caring that it was late. Then the shot came.

It was a neat sound, the bullet cutting the air perfectly as it met its target. Tyler went down with a loud thud, the bottles in the bags shattering against each other as they fell on the ground with his body.

It took her a moment to realize. Then tears like needles stung her eyes, a scream burned her throat, and an imaginary knife stabbed her heart. She shouted his name, loud and clear, running towards his bloodied body.

"Tyler!" she shouted, falling next to him on her knees, her kneecaps hurting as they hit the concrete, but she didn't care. Not when her Tyler was dying - no, already dead - before her. Before her eyes.