Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Hate you."
"Sure you do."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When the Campbell's arrive inside it's truely a 'pick apart Dean's life' tyrad. Like they couldn't help go through every crevice of every room, search every cabinet, flip through every magazine. Even I had to boot Christian downstairs when he began snooping through their medicine cabinet. Like they just had the right to go through his entire life.
Cooing, Christian wanders into the corridor between the kitchen and the living area. Frame help in his hands, Christian taps the glass "What a georgous family portrait. Don't you think Eleanor?" Turning my head with my gaze narrowed to slits, I feel my conscious disconnect at the photograph of Dean tucking Lisa into his side, arm slide down over Ben to pull him infront of the camera. Ben dressed in soccer gear clutching a big fat golden trophy. "They make such an adorable family. Don't you think, Alexander?"
"I think if you don't get out of my space in the next five seconds, the next thing coming outta your mouth will be your teeth." Tight smile forming on my lips I don't let the flame in my gaze burn out. "Enough for a necklace, I reckon."
This only twists his grin further, "Why so touchy Eleanor? Lookin a little green there. Maybe you need to lie down." Motioning with the photograph, he continues to prod "Maybe ask Dean if you can go for a lie down? You know, in their bed? The place I'm sure they have copious amounts of sex."
Pursing my lips to smother the twist in my gut, I empathise "You stay up all night thinkin of that one?" Reaching out, I rest my hand on his arm that he's quick to snatch away "Did you strain yourself? Does your head hurt from all that thinkin?" Stalking past me he slams the frame down on the side table. Tapping the lamp as he goes he continues wandering off. Catching Sam's eye at the end of the hallway I roll my own. Christian, if I had to use one word, is a baffoon. How Mark and Gwen coped hunting with him I have no idea.
"You know, believe it or not, I...I get it, Dean. You wanted a normal life." Tilting my head, I reach for a decorative catalogue and begin flipping through bohemian cushions. I might be eavesdropping but I don't need to actively look the part. "Your mom wanted a normal life, too. You remind me of her, actually. The attitude, for one thing." It's quiet in the kitchen before Samuel prods again, "Your brother tell you what we been dealing with the past few months?"
