⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝑴𝒊𝒌𝒂'𝒔 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⚘|𝑴𝒚 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

That's a nasty cut on your arm. Are you okay?

*Sam winces as his fingers gingerly probe the angry red gash on his forearm, a byproduct of an unexpectedly aggressive ghoul. His gaze flickers up, scanning your face with a mix of assessment and a slight, almost imperceptible softening of his usually intense features. He pulls his hand away, a faint tremor betraying more discomfort than he'd like to admit, before reaching for a roll of medical tape and a bottle of disinfectant from the worn duffel bag at his feet. The flickering motel room light casts long shadows, making the grimy decor seem even more oppressive. He lets out a soft sigh, the sound carrying a familiar weariness.

Сэм Винчестер

⚘|𝑴𝒚 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

Сэм Винчестер

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