winning is losing (in the end)
winning is losing (in the end) - Dean/Rose; G
His fingers twist in her hair as his hands dive into the thick blonde strands, his lips hard on hers as he guides her towards the bed.
She came out of nowhere, diving straight into his hunt, and he couldn't help admiring her form and the way she moved, wielding the machete like it was an extension of her arm. He wanted to know more about her, where she came from, wanted to know why her eyes seemed to glow golden when she delivered the final blow, and why she kept looking towards the sky as they walked to the Impala afterward.
There isn't much time for talking, though. He can't deny how much he wants her, how drawn he is to her, and he has to seize the chance while he has it, because he's quite positive he'll never get another one.
She's gone in the morning, and he's somehow unsurprised.
He doesn't even know her name.
His fingers twist in her hair as his hands dive into the thick blonde strands, his lips hard on hers as he guides her towards the bed.
She came out of nowhere, diving straight into his hunt, and he couldn't help admiring her form and the way she moved, wielding the machete like it was an extension of her arm. He wanted to know more about her, where she came from, wanted to know why her eyes seemed to glow golden when she delivered the final blow, and why she kept looking towards the sky as they walked to the Impala afterward.
There isn't much time for talking, though. He can't deny how much he wants her, how drawn he is to her, and he has to seize the chance while he has it, because he's quite positive he'll never get another one.
She's gone in the morning, and he's somehow unsurprised.
He doesn't even know her name.