?They say, you gotta fight your own demons, but no one ever tells you how. ?
Fighting demons? Easy. Hunting down evil spirits? Gimme some salt and gasoline. Work things out with your girl? ????.
Dean Winchester was always good at hunting down t...
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𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐎; 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴
❝𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄❞, the brown-haired whispered as she attempted to lift the biceps from her waist, pinning her soft frame against someone's chest. The old motel bed creaked under her sudden movement, causing the man to roll on his back. The warm sunlight reached his face, stroking over his handsome features with gentle care. While stirring, the blanket had slipped from his torso, which gifted her a perfect glimpse of his abs.
She cursed herself for looking, silently reciting her sweet little prayer that she hadn't pulled him out of his slumber. Truth was, she wasn't exactly in the mood to face the awkward morning-after talk or being hit with those weird, stolen glances and the uncomfortable tension between two lonely strangers.
In haste, the brunette slipped her dress back on before she picked up her pair of heels from the floor. She called them the good pair. The one she usually wore when she wanted to find a quick little hookup, just like yesterday evening. Find someone to distract her chaotic mind for a single night until their ways parted again in the early rise of the morning hours. They were red- Louboutins to be exact. What was meant to be a gift from her father for her eighteenth birthday had turned into her secret lucky charm. And yet, they had never disappointed, doing their job every goddamn time. Perhaps they had some magic in them after all. Not that she believed in such stuff anyway.
Thinking about it, the brunette didn't believe in a lot of things. Relationships included. It wasn't that she didn't want to, it just never worked out for her; always ending up with some stalker-psychopath or a cheater-maniac. Or both. At least, that's how it ended last time and the time before and the time before. Therefore, the brown-haired had made a promise to herself: no more strings and no more purring her heart out. Just sex. Keeping it casual.
The woman ran a finger over her plumped lips, the red lipstick smudged. Only the little reminders on her cupid's bow gave a hint at the color since most of her lipstick was lingering on his chest now. With a sigh, she blew out her cheeks, quickly running a hand through her hair to readjust the soft brown curls before she set foot into the little bathroom.
The mirror revealed a heavy pair of eye bags on her tanned skin and a trail of hickeys down her neck. Awesome, now she had to cover them up before she could start her day properly. Frustrated,Abby splashed some water on her face and fixed her makeup before she closed the bathroom door behind her. Her eyes, wandering hopelessly over the old furniture, desperate to find her-
"Looking for this, sweetheart?" The girl spun on her heel, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder. The stranger looked at her mischievously, a cheeky smirk tugging on his lips as he held her phone up. "I added my number, just in case you wanna call sometime for uh, you know- round 2 or something. Don't think we got to finish last night, and I love to keep my cases closed."
