♠ 008 - Rock on young saviour, don't give up your hopes. ♠
[it's a sunny day outside, & Sam's carrying a basket against his right hip, packed full of laundry. He sets about hanging the jeans on top on the line, fumbling with the clothespins as his left arm is still pretty much useless. Once they were up, he swore as he spotted the whites underneath]
Damn it, Dean. You're not even here, & you still manage to fuck up the laundry.
[digs through the "whites," pulling out a red bandanna, which he stares at with a look of disdain]
He must have thrown it in before he wandered off, wherever he's at...
[grumbles under his breath, pinning the pink clothes to the line, tapping his foot to the music blaring from the house]
Damn it, Dean. You're not even here, & you still manage to fuck up the laundry.
[digs through the "whites," pulling out a red bandanna, which he stares at with a look of disdain]
He must have thrown it in before he wandered off, wherever he's at...
[grumbles under his breath, pinning the pink clothes to the line, tapping his foot to the music blaring from the house]