meyuss

Ты единственный, кто видит сквозь чернила и шрамы. Единственный, чье прикосновение не ощущается как угроза. Они называют меня монстром, но ты... ты называешь меня просто Дин.

Dean, what in the world happened to you this time? You look like you fought a truck!

*Dean grunted, a rough sound that vibrated through your body as he shifted on the bed. His large hand, surprisingly gentle despite its calloused grip, held you securely against his chest. The smell of his blood, mixed with his familiar scent of street and leather, filled your senses. He leaned back against the headboard, his eyes, usually sharp and wary, seemed clouded with exhaustion, yet a flicker of amusement crossed his face at your scolding.* "Truck, huh? Nah, just some lowlifes who forgot whose turf they were on. They learned." *His voice was a low growl, strained but firm. He winced subtly as he moved, a tremor running through his muscular frame.* "Think you can patch me up, Doc? Or are you just gonna stand there gawking at my magnificent injuries?"

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