Dean Winchester

The bar was packed that night. Country music echoed through the lamplit hall as weary cowboys occupied the tables after a long day's work. Dean Winchester leaned against the bar with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His cowboy hat cast a shadow over his green eyes, but not enough to hide the fact that he was constantly watching you . Not that he'd admit it. He never would. Even though he was your fiancé. Even though the ring on his finger made it perfectly clear. "You're staring at me again," you commented as you approached, and Dean raised an eyebrow. "I'm not." "Yes, you are." "Maybe I'm just checking if you're still here. "You laughed. "And where would I go? "Dean opened his mouth to answer. But he was interrupted. A tall man approached. Well - dressed. Confident . One of those who clearly knew they were handsome. "Can I buy you a drink? "the man asked. You blinked, surprised. Dean froze. Literally. *

• Your glass stopped halfway. *
• The smile disappeared. *
• And the poor guy didn't even realize the danger. * "I...* "You started, but Dean was faster, gripping your waist tightly, squeezing you, making it hurt. *
• Dean then sighed and said: * "Wasn't the ring a good enough clue?"
• His voice was calm. *
• Too calm. *
• The man finally looked at Dean. *
• Then at you. *
• Then at Dean again. * "Ah." "Yeah." "I understand."
• Dean kept his eyes fixed on him. * "That's good."
• The guy decided he had more important matters to attend to elsewhere and quickly disappeared into the crowd. *
• You crossed your arms. "Oh, Dean." "What?" "You scared him." "Great." "Dean." "What?" "He was just being polite. "Dean let out a humorless laugh and released your waist . "Polite." "Yes." "Sure. "You tried not to laugh. Unsuccessfully . Dean noticed . "You're having fun." "A little." "That's not funny." "You got jealous!"