Status: Thank you so much for reading! I'll update as often as I can.
I Wish I Couldn't Feel a Damn Thing.
Chapter Five.
I'm stupid. Completely, utterly stupid. Ugggggghhh.
There's no way he's ever going to talk to me again. That is, if he even heard me. And if he didn't hear me, it doesn't matter anyways because I'm way too mortified to even look at him. Fuck me! Well, not "fuck me" fuck me. But fuck me. Now I'm confusing myself.
Fuck my life. There, that's a better option.
I snap out of it. "Stop talking to yourself, Sky," I mumble quietly, walking towards my record player. I flip through my vinyls, grabbing The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Of Me. Brand New is always the band I listen to when I need to think.
I place the vinyl on the turntable and start the turntable. I know you're not supposed to skip tracks on vinyl or whatever, but I do anyways, carefully moving the needle to track 4, Degausser.
I plop down on my bed, burying my face into my pillows.
You're allowed to like Dean.
For whatever reason, those five words keep ringing in my head. Is it really okay for me to like Dean?
I've always pushed my feelings for him towards the back of my head. I never considered telling Sam, let alone telling Dean. I didn't think it mattered, and I still don't think it does. It won't change anything. Well, actually it'll change everything, but not in the way I'd like it to. Besides, in a few days, they'll leave to save whoever they need to save this time. I'll hear from Sam every three months or so, I won't hear a word from Dean, and I won't see either of them for another seven years. That's just how it is with the Winchesters. Saving people, hunting things, that's the family business. They put their lives on the line on the daily, and they're big on the whole martyr thing. Always eager to sacrifice themselves for each other. It's best not to get too attached because I never know when I might never hear from them again.
No, Sky, don't think like that.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, focusing on the music that's filling the room.
"Take me, take me back to your bed.
I love you so much that it hurts my head.
I don't mind you under my skin.
I'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in."
I sigh loudly, my eyes stinging with tears. I rub my eyes roughly with the back of my hands before rolling onto my side and curling up in a ball, facing my door.
Don't cry, Sky. No chick flick moments.
The thought of losing Sam and Dean hurts. It hurts a lot, and it doesn't help that I've went through losing them before. Even though Sam and I don't keep in touch all that often, there's been times when he's been in contact with me around the time that shit goes down. One of them passes, and somehow the other manages to bring them back. Usually through something suicidally stupid like a crossroads deal.
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock.
"Come in, it's unlocked," I shout over the music. The door slowly opens to reveal Dean standing in the doorway. Oh god, I'm screwed. He leans against the doorway, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Oh uh, hey," I mutter out, sitting up. I cross my legs and clasp my hands, letting them rest in my lap. "You can come in and sit down or whatever."
He strides in and sits at the end of the bed. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with his hand before looking up at me.
"So, uh, you like me?" he questions.
My breath catches in my throat. oh god.
There's no way he's ever going to talk to me again. That is, if he even heard me. And if he didn't hear me, it doesn't matter anyways because I'm way too mortified to even look at him. Fuck me! Well, not "fuck me" fuck me. But fuck me. Now I'm confusing myself.
Fuck my life. There, that's a better option.
I snap out of it. "Stop talking to yourself, Sky," I mumble quietly, walking towards my record player. I flip through my vinyls, grabbing The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Of Me. Brand New is always the band I listen to when I need to think.
I place the vinyl on the turntable and start the turntable. I know you're not supposed to skip tracks on vinyl or whatever, but I do anyways, carefully moving the needle to track 4, Degausser.
I plop down on my bed, burying my face into my pillows.
You're allowed to like Dean.
For whatever reason, those five words keep ringing in my head. Is it really okay for me to like Dean?
I've always pushed my feelings for him towards the back of my head. I never considered telling Sam, let alone telling Dean. I didn't think it mattered, and I still don't think it does. It won't change anything. Well, actually it'll change everything, but not in the way I'd like it to. Besides, in a few days, they'll leave to save whoever they need to save this time. I'll hear from Sam every three months or so, I won't hear a word from Dean, and I won't see either of them for another seven years. That's just how it is with the Winchesters. Saving people, hunting things, that's the family business. They put their lives on the line on the daily, and they're big on the whole martyr thing. Always eager to sacrifice themselves for each other. It's best not to get too attached because I never know when I might never hear from them again.
No, Sky, don't think like that.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, focusing on the music that's filling the room.
"Take me, take me back to your bed.
I love you so much that it hurts my head.
I don't mind you under my skin.
I'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in."
I sigh loudly, my eyes stinging with tears. I rub my eyes roughly with the back of my hands before rolling onto my side and curling up in a ball, facing my door.
Don't cry, Sky. No chick flick moments.
The thought of losing Sam and Dean hurts. It hurts a lot, and it doesn't help that I've went through losing them before. Even though Sam and I don't keep in touch all that often, there's been times when he's been in contact with me around the time that shit goes down. One of them passes, and somehow the other manages to bring them back. Usually through something suicidally stupid like a crossroads deal.
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock.
"Come in, it's unlocked," I shout over the music. The door slowly opens to reveal Dean standing in the doorway. Oh god, I'm screwed. He leans against the doorway, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Oh uh, hey," I mutter out, sitting up. I cross my legs and clasp my hands, letting them rest in my lap. "You can come in and sit down or whatever."
He strides in and sits at the end of the bed. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with his hand before looking up at me.
"So, uh, you like me?" he questions.
My breath catches in my throat. oh god.
♠ ♠ ♠
By the way, I love all the music that I mention in my fics, and they're usually songs or bands that I listen to while writing. If you're looking to try out some new music, or just really want to understand what I'm trying to convey in certain chapters, you should definitely check out the songs/artists I mention. I promise you won't regret it. c: