Farren - Book 1 of the Darkness Series

CHAPTER 7 - ECHOES OF DESTINY

Dean got up and quickly fetched a glass of water from the kitchen, handing it to her with a warm smile. "Here you go. Take it slow."

She nodded gratefully, taking small sips to settle her stomach. The coolness of the water soothed her parched throat, and she felt a sense of gratitude towards Dean for being there for her, even though she was the one who invaded his privacy.

"What the...?" Farren's voice trembled, looking at Dean with surprise, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames of the fireplace, a kaleidoscope of emotions within.

"I could ask you the same thing; what just happened?" Dean's voice was soft, his green eyes searching for answers, like a detective piecing together clues to unravel the mysteries before him.

Farren took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the experience she had just gone through. "It was like I was inside your head, seeing and feeling everything, you did. It was intense, Dean. I wasn't expecting it to be so vivid."

Dean nodded, understanding written on his face. "Yeah, that's how it would feel when someone with psychic abilities like yours taps into my memories. So, it was like reliving those moments all over again?"

Farren couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy towards Dean. She knew that he had experienced many traumatic events in his life, and now she had inadvertently relived some of those moments with him. She wondered how he coped with carrying the weight of those memories every day, and she felt a deep sense of respect for the strength he displayed.

"How didn't you know that? I mean, I thought you were psychic?" Dean's voice carried genuine curiosity, like a child asking a million questions to satisfy their curiosity.

Farren shrugged, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Well, I have never really done that before. Bobby kind of forbade me..."

"Bobby can be pretty protective," he said, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah, you can say that again," Farren replied with a chuckle, feeling a bit more at ease as the tension between them started to ease.

"Which is why I can't tell him?"

"Can't tell me what?" A voice asked from the doorway as both heads turned towards him.

Farren felt the little color she had left drain from her face as she looked at Bobby, who stood like a sentinel, framed by the night's darkness behind him. His grizzled appearance and the aroma of whiskey emanating from him added to the air of mystery that surrounded the seasoned hunter.

She felt Dean tense beside her as Bobby glared at them. The strong scent of whiskey emanated from Bobby, a scent he always carried with him like a signature, mingling with the rustic aroma of the cabin, creating an intoxicating blend of familiarity and unknown.

"Answer me. What can't you tell me, Dean?" Bobby's voice held a note of urgency, amplified by the stillness of the night, like the call of an owl in the vast woods, seeking answers in the shadows.

"Bobby, calm down. It's nothing like that..." Dean tried, his voice steady but tinged with unease, like a warrior preparing for battle while hoping for peace.

"Like what?" Bobby's eyes fixed on Farren, sharp and discerning, like a hawk sizing up its prey.

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair again, knowing they had been caught he gave Farren an apologetic glance. "Farren accidentally tapped into my memories, Bobby. She didn't mean to, and it surprised both of us." The lie easily rolled of Dean's tongue.

Farren accepted Dean's silent apology, knowing that Bobby had unexpectedly walk in on their conversation. She took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and guilt. She knew Bobby was protective of both Dean and herself, and she didn't want to upset him.

"Listen, Bobby," she began, her voice sincere and apologetic, deciding to play along with Dean's lie, "I didn't mean to invade Dean's privacy or anything like that. It just... happened. And I'm sorry."

Bobby's stern expression softened, and he sighed, the lines on his face deepening with the weight of his emotions. "Well, you two better sort this out. And if anything like this happens again, you come talk to me, you hear?"

Dean nodded. "Of course, Bobby. We'll figure it out."

At that point, Farren decided it would be a good idea to get up and try to make a quick escape. Her body, though, had its own ideas because her legs gave way beneath her as she stood up and tried to take a step forward. Bracing herself for the impact, she closed her eyes and waited, but she never hit the ground. Opening her eyes, she saw Dean had caught her and was now holding her steady, his arms enveloping her in a reassuring embrace, like a shield against the storm of emotions.

Dean's grip on her felt firm and secure, comforting to know that he was there to support her, both physically and emotionally. She could feel the strength in his embrace, his warmth seeping into her bones, calming her nerves, like a sanctuary amidst the tumultuous world outside.

"I think I better help you. Where to?" Dean stepped forward again, picking her up bridal style, his movements fluid and decisive, like a guardian protecting his ward.

The cabin's wooden stairs creaked as they ascended, almost as if acknowledging their presence, bearing witness to the moments that would shape their destiny.

"The attic," Farren replied simply.

"You sleep in the attic?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice echoing through the cabin, mixing with the crackling fire and the distant sounds of the night, like a traveler exploring uncharted territory.

The attic's dim lighting and old wooden beams gave it a cozy, secluded feel, which Farren found oddly comforting, like a hidden sanctuary amidst the chaos of the world below.

"Yeah, I love it there," she answered and tried to shrug but found her body protesting. "Thank you, you know, for Bobby."

"No worries, he can get worked up pretty fast. I was serious, though. We will still discuss what happened tonight."

"Mmm, no problem," Farren mumbled as she curled into Dean's shoulder, finding solace in the shelter of his embrace, like a weary traveler finding respite in the arms of a loved one.

Dean noticed that Farren had fallen asleep when he reached the attic door. He took his time climbing the attic stairs and listened to her peaceful breathing and soft snores for as long as possible, like a guardian cherishing the tranquility of the night.

Unknown to him, Bobby was standing at the bottom of the stairs with a worried look, his eyes reflecting the moonlight, his mind contemplating the meaning of this seemingly instant bond and attraction that had emerged in the heart of the salvage yard, like a sage deciphering the signs of fate.