Breathe

Two eyes gazed solemnly at the digital clock placed in the dashboard. The blue pair glowering at the early time.

"You know, I don't have a curfew."

His thick grin was apparent as his hand strode straight for the ignition, aimed to started the silent car.

"I take it you don't want to go home?"

"Not until my mother calls," She laughed
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Half an hour later, the couple was perched on the hood of the same car, a cheap bottle of wine and two plastic cups filled to the brim resting in between them. The girl sputtered, giggling as she took a sip.

"Man, I forgot how shitty this stuff is," She laughed, picking up the half emptied glass bottle, "Why the hell did we ever choose strawberry?"

He shrugged, trying to down his own sip of the drink. Past the horrible taste was this small sweetness, something he favored, and apparently Rachel did too.

'It'd be rather ironic if this certain country song by Deana Carter came on," She mumbled, stretching on the windshield of the parked vehicle. She sipped the cup as she talked, her eyes scanning the vast amount of sky, whose lights had been dimmed by the city's own.

"Please don't tell me you're going to bust out singing."

She popped up, nearly spilling the liquid on herself, before shifting the items caught in her fire between them. Getting to him, she hovered over him, a playful smile caught on her face, threatening him. Teasing him.

"You saying I can't sing, Ackles?"

He shrugged, smiling as he smelt the faint scent of strawberries and alcohol lining her breath. A loose braid swung gently over her shoulder, daring to flop around in his face. He took in the pale face in the shattered moonlight, the happy anxiety hopping in her bright blue eyes.

"I'm just saying maybe that song could be a little corny for a moment like this."

"Oh, and that line wasn't?" She laughed, grinning at him.

"Damn you and your wittiness," He grimaced, still smiling.

Before another word could be uttered, she leaned down, tempting. A little nip asked if it was okay before he pulled her down on top of him. His lips smiled deeply into her own as he felt the goosebumps rise delicately on her arm. The plastic cup clattered to the ground with much noise, the wine sloshing on the open dirt. She pulled away, her features begging for the tiniest bit of air.

"We can't just be just friends, can we?" She breathed, a simple smirk playing her face.
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Light daintly danced on fluttering eyelids as the morning greeted Rachel. Completely disoriented, yet content, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, trying to catch her bearings. Recognizing the soft white sheets and comforter, she breathed deeply, trying to remember where she saw them last.

Remnants of the night before dawned on her, as she found a body beside her, its graces covering the other half of the bed. She smiled, seeing as the body's arm was draped casually over her own waist, pulling her closer to it. Her smile grew even more, however, as she saw that both of them still acquired last night's clothes.

The man beside her shifted, his lips smacking as he began talking in his sleep. She giggled, sinking back down into the comfort of his arms. A somewhat delicious smell of him greeted her nostrils, and she yet again breathed deeply, taking in everything. She snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth, and his strength as his arms seemed to once again wrap tightly around her. Closing her eyes again, she was startled as he began to speak, his voice sounding gruff.

"Hello first perfect morning."

She grinned at him, biting her lower lip.

"Who says it can't be a perfect day?" She questioned, her eyebrows dancing.

He smirked, his own kiss sending another wave of shock down her spine.

"Yeah, because you know I'm not really a morning person."