25 | Silver Lining
SHE RUBBED HER PALMS TOGETHER in a quick motion, seeking warmth from the friction. Although the bunker had a well-functioning heater to shelter her from the chilly weather outside, she felt freezing. Her fingers were still cold and numb.
She woke up this morning tired. She found it quite odd, though. Sure, she was always greeted by exhaustion after waking up when a case was just newly solved— but today, she had just woke up and was already worn-out.
Like damn, is it that tiring to sleep?
She found herself struggling to unwrap her own body from the layers of blankets around her. She shivered when her bare feet made contact with the cool steel floor. Weird, she thought. I'm not a person to sleep with this many blankets. How did these get here?
She ran a hand through her hair and winced when she felt a slight tug. As always, her hair was all tangled and messy after waking up. She sighed and sat on the vanity table, looking into her reflection that's stared right back at her with weary eyes.
She heard faint knocking, and the door creaked open. Dean's head peeked in, his eyes wondering around and glinted when they finally landed on Clarissa. "G'morning, Peanut!"
"Hey, Dean. Sleep well?"
"So-so. But looks like you didn't. You look like some horses ran over you."
Clarissa scoffed, standing up, "what 'bout you? Do you practice being that ugly?"
"I'm so naturally handsome that I don't need practice, sweetheart." He replied. Dean neared her and handed her a mug, "here. A cup of joe."
Clarissa gratefully accepted the mug and held it close, warming her hands. "I hope you made it how I like."
He chuckled, drinking from his own mug, "why don't you see for yourself?"
She sat down on her bed, the soft mattress pressing down on her weight. She eyed the smiling Winchester as she brought her lips to the mug and took a big gulp. She loved hot coffee. Every tastebud said, "creamy overload. I repeat, creamy overload. This is not a drill."
She let out a satisfied sigh as the warm liquid went down her throat, immediately warming her. "Creamy. It's perfect."
"Just how you like it." He adds cheekily.
She observed the twinkle in his eye and the proud look he had—like he won an award. Her stomach did somersaults when the thought of him being so considerate to make coffee for her first thing in the morning crossed her mind. And the fact that he memorised how she liked her coffee was enough to make her melt into a puddle.
Meanwhile, Dean mentally celebrated joyously as he watched Clarissa down the rest of the coffee. He was delighted to make her smile. This made him want to make her even more happy. To please her. To see her smile. Dean looked down to his shoes, battling with his own emotions. Why did he feel like this?
Clarissa's velvety soft voice interrupted Dean's train of thoughts, "How thoughtful of you to brew this cup of coffee for me, Dean."
"I'm glad you like it. You were shivering last night on your sleep, by the way. I thought I had to wrap a thousand blankets on you!"
Her eyes widened and she sat up, "you were the one who covered me with blankets?"
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "yeah, I guess."
"Uhm, thanks." Clarissa laughed, but the jitters were getting the best of her, making the laugh come out like a cry for help. She slapped herself. Mentally. What exactly am I doing?
"Sure." Dean cleared his throat, swaying to the side and dug his sweaty palms deeper into his pockets.
"Your hair looks like it needs help," he teased, gesturing to her messy hair to ease the awkwardness. Clarissa took note of how Dean tried to mask his tensed body and face.
Deciding to play along, she rolled her eyes, groaning as she trudged over to her vanity table and sat down on the chair with a 'plop'. "You bet I do. Fixing my hair each morning is a bother."
He chortled, standing behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder. They stared at their reflection on the mirror. Clarissa fidgeted on her seat at the close contact. She could almost feel the warmth radiate off him.
To finally have Clarissa right by Dean made him the most overjoyed man in the planet. Although he himself spent a year in purgatory, he couldn't imagine the suffering she must've gone through when she was stuck there for eight months. For those entire long months, he couldn't ignore the emotion that swarmed his entire being, though— emptiness. He had an empty hole inside of him for his whole years of living, and she filled that hole with so much emotions and warmth. He didn't know how, he didn't know why. She just did.
Everything was so confusing.
Without braking their gaze at the mirror, Dean tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and muttered, "You're so beautiful."
Confused at the sudden flattery, she cracked a smile, and was about to deny his compliment when he added, "and..oh look! There's you!"
( A/N: This is Tangled AF! I decided to put that joke in here, because since there's an inside joke about Dean being like Rapunzel. )
See? xD
Her cheeks heated up. She stood up from her seat, the wood material creaking on the floor as she playfully slapped Dean in the shoulder. "Dean! You're such a jerk!"
A series of laughters from Dean echoed in the room. He clutched his stomach and rolled on the floor. Clarissa rushed to her bed and threw pillows at him with force, which apparently did not affect him. "Y-you should've seen your face!!"
The crow's foot around his eyes became evident, complimenting his beautifully framed face well. Clarissa averted her gaze, hoping he didn't see her string at him. He wiped the small tear from his eyes dramatically. "Thanks, Peanut. I needed a good laugh."
"You're horrible!"
She tried to keep a straight face, but broke into a smile and laughed along Dean.
At her fruity laugh, she looked genuinely happy and that made him beam wider.
He swung an arm around Clarissa's shoulder and chuckled, gazing into her lovingly, "c'mon, Peanut. Laughs and giggles are over now. Let's go check on Sam."
x x x