60 Day Challenge

Day Seventeen: Spooning

               

Elena had never been good at sleeping alone. It had always bothered her that no one was there beside her. She'd gotten over her nightmares when she was younger, the memories of going over the bridge no longer plaguing her dreams. That didn't mean she needed comfort any less.

Loneliness had a way of rooting deep in people's bones, sitting inside them just waiting for the right moment to spread. It was a poison, the kind that had many cures but was still hard to shake. Elena hated the way it made her feel, how it would make her curl into a ball when she was the only one wrapped up in the sheets.

Dean took all that away. When she reached over in search of comfort he always obliged, pulling her against his chest and keeping his arms around her as she slept. He was like a barrier, protecting her from any nightmare that might come her way.

Having him that close was both a gift and a curse. He was distracting, even when he wasn't doing anything. His smell was overwhelming, filling her senses until everything around her was Dean. She could smell the old whiskey on his breath, the smell of leather from his Impala still clinging to his skin. His woodsy cologne would fill her nose, making her feel more at home than a house ever could.

Dean's hands would be everywhere, curling around her stomach and interlacing with hers. Sometimes they'd find her hair, carding through her thick hair as she lulled to sleep. His touch was like a drug she easily became addicted to, greedily seeking it out. She'd tangle their legs together, rubbing her feet up and down his calves absentmindedly.

They whispered to each other in the darkness, words of love and adoration shared in the space between them. Elena loved to hear him murmur in her ear, his lips tickling her skin before he kissed her tenderly. They couldn't get any closer than this, lying in each other's arms as they drifted off together.

Dean loved sharing a bed with her, he did. He loved being able to feel the shift in her breathing, a sign that she had fallen fast asleep and was now drifting in dream land. He wondered what her mind was conjuring, whether or not it was images of him or of old memories. She always looked so peaceful when she was sleeping.

But Elena was a kicker. She'd get excited in her sleep, accidently kicking Dean in the shins or even shoving him out of the bed. He didn't have the heart to tell her, but it made it quite difficult for him to get a good night sleep.

If she wasn't kicking in her sleep, there was some other problem. Her hair would get caught in his mouth, threatening to strangle him as he tried to free himself from its clutches. His arm constantly fell asleep tucked underneath her, but he hated to pull away from her. He loved her too much to ever sacrifice her sleep for his.

So when Elena woke the next morning and asked how he'd slept, Dean always smiled and pecked her on the nose, promising he'd slept as sound as she had.

Author's Note:

Okay I know this one is super short, and I was hoping to make this one longer (and better), but I waited to write this until after I watched Supernatural last night and I was so exhausted and ended up calling it quits... So I apologize for the quality, lack of flow, and length!