𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 || dean winchester ¹

[ 𝟎𝟒 ] 𝐚𝐛𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝

— ❝ IS THAT YOUR GUN IN YOUR POCKET, OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME? ❞

»»———-　✪　———-««

    ROBIN MADE IT HOME AT half past eleven, angry and buzzed. She loudly unlocked the front door and stumbled inside, almost tripping on the corner of the couch in the darkness. Her backpack slid off of her arm and she hauled it onto the sofa with a few irritated grumbles about "those damn Winchester's."

Lacie must have gone to sleep telling by how the entire house was dim and locked up for closing. And she was nowhere to be found. Robin was shocked that she hadn't called or texted during her time at the bar to make sure she was alright, but she figured she had been stressed out enough from her earlier episode.

She flipped on the kitchen light, squinting against the harsh fluorescent glow and sauntered over to the fridge. Swinging it open, she grasped a cold water bottle and chugged over half of it within seconds, trying to shoo away the oncoming headache that already squeezed the back of her head.

Robin lazily twisted the cap back on and slammed the bottle onto the table. Frustration clouded her rationale and she let her forehead meet her forearm. She sighed, the interaction with the Winchester brothers looping in her head.

While they were perfectly reasonable with their decisions - Robin knew she would have done the same in their shoes - it didn't ease the sting of it all. She expected absolutely nothing out of the exchange. Her promise to herself was definitely easier said than done, so why was she so disappointed by the rejection?

The redhead pulled her long locks into a low ponytail and made her way over to the sink to splash cold water into her face, hoping it would stop the flushing. "Crap." She muttered, dabbing a towel on her cheeks.

She tossed it on top of the clean dishes Lacie washed before she had gone to bed and trudged down the dark hall to her own bedroom. Carefully, Robin poked her head into Lacie's room just adjacent from hers, smiling when she saw her friend's peaceful expression. Then she carried herself past her already open door and flopped onto her neatly made bed. She pulled her gun out of the back of her waistband and set it down with a clatter onto her dresser.

It didn't take long for her to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

»»———-　✪　———-««

    ROBIN WAS SLOWLY ROUSED FROM her slumber to the sound of soft rustling outside of her bedroom door. At first, she thought it might have been the neighbors downstairs deciding to gently poke their ceilings at - she squinted at her alarm clock - two in the morning. But the more she regained consciousness, the more she came to realize the noises were coming from inside her apartment.

She soundlessly jolted up and reached for her nightstand. Her eyes were trained on her barely cracked open door, her fingers blindly searching for her gun. When her palm wrapped around the cold handle, she slowly cocked it and slid off of her bed.

Her back pressed against the wall and she tried to close in on where the noises were coming from. She could hear the living room's floorboards creak, and then dishes clattering in the kitchen. It sounded like only one person. Most likely a robber, telling by how much was moving around.