Fallen

Chapter Twenty

Celeste's P.O.V.

     As soon as my bedroom door clicks behind me, my hand flies to my mouth, and I slide my back down the door. I can't wipe the smile off my face even though I'm covering it with my hand. Dean Winchester just kissed me. ME! I thought that he thought of me as a burden. I thought that he hated me.

     But what if he does? What if he's just like the rest? What if he knows that I'm almost done with angel training, so he's taking this time to try to get into my pants? No, surely not. He's above that. He's better than that. Right?

     Ugh, I just don't know. I need to be careful. I can't let my guard down yet. This has happened too many times for me to be stupid and let it happen again. I can't get my hopes up about this. I just need to take it slow and wait it out.

     A sigh escapes my lips, and I rise back to my feet. I take my towel off and squeeze the ends of my hair with it before changing into clean clothes. It's been a few minutes now, and I swear I can still feel the ghost of Dean's lips against mine. I grin and bite my lip. My cheeks flush just at the memory of it.

     I've never been kissed like that. That felt... genuine. It felt like it came from the heart. Or maybe I'm just interpreting it that way...

     I pull myself out of my head and comb my fingers through my wet hair. Then I dry my hands and hang up my towel to dry. I open my bedroom door and make my way toward the kitchen. When I round one of the corners before the kitchen, I mange to plow right into Dean.

     "Oh my god, sorry!" I say. It takes us both a second to recover.

     "It's fine," he laughs. "Where ya headed?" He takes a step forward and places his hands on my waist. I return the touch by putting my hands on the backs of his arms just above his elbows.

     I can't stop myself from looking him up and down. He wears a fresh flannel and his short hair is wet. I guess he showered too. Damn, maybe I was in my room thinking about all this for longer than I thought.

     "I was just gonna make myself something to eat," I explain.

     "I can make you something if you want," he offers.

     "No, you don't have to do that, it's-"

     "It's no trouble, really," he says. "And if I'm being honest, I kinda like cooking." He half-smiles.

     I smile back. "Well then, in that case, I shan't keep a chef from his kitchen," I joke.

     He smiles and leans down to kiss me. Then he lets go of my waist and turns around to go back towards the kitchen. I decide to follow him. He washes his hands and starts taking out pans and such as I hoist myself up onto the counter he's not using. I watch from beside him as he takes hamburger meat out of the fridge and starts to prepare it.

     My mind wanders back to our kiss in the hallway. I start swinging my legs back and forth as much as the cabinet beneath the counter will let me. 'You just helped me realize that I do,' Dean had said. I think about that for a second. What did he mean? I was too caught up in the moment to ask him at the time.

     "Dean, can I ask you something?" I say.

     "Yeah, of coarse." He hovers his hand over his pan to check the temperature. Then he places the seasoned burger patty he made onto the pan.

     I hesitate. I don't know why, but I feel strange about asking this question. "Earlier, in the hallway, you said that I helped you realize. How? What did I do?"

     A tender smile grows on his face, and he turns his head toward me a bit. "Your voice," he says, then he looks at me fully.

     My face heats up. "Y-you heard me?"