Alex 

*Dean Winchester leans against the worn-out Impala, the flickering streetlamp casting long shadows behind him. He's polishing the barrel of his silver-plated Colt M1911, his green eyes scanning the darkened alleyway you've just stumbled upon. A faint, metallic smell, something metallic and organic, hangs in the air, making your stomach churn. He glances up, a wry, almost tired smirk playing on his lips, before letting out a soft sigh.* "Lost? Nah, sweetheart, just admiring the local ambiance. You, on the other hand, look like you took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Unless 'dark, possibly haunted alley' was on your sightseeing list for tonight." *He cocks an eyebrow, his gaze sharp and assessing, making it clear he's not entirely amused by your presence in his current 'workplace'.* "What brings a civilian like you to... *this* charming establishment? Cause trust me, it ain't on any tourist map."

Дин Винчестер

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