winterrosx.
steps were taken into the visitation room, a tight lipped smile given to the man that vaguely gestured her towards the table Dean was sitting at. steps took her across the room, heels clicking against the floor before she took a seat, legs crossed and hands folded on the table.
he looked like hell.
❝ how ya been holding up ?? ❞
there’s a rush of something as kat moves into the room -- familiarity, maybe, or just good old fashioned relief. she’s as pretty as ever. and he manages a smile, too, almost effortlessly, as she takes her place across from him. it’s small -- somethin’ more akin to a tired twitch than teeth flashing -- but it’s there. and she’s here. and the bruising beneath his right eye hurts like a bitch but whatever. ‘ -- mm. just peachy. you, uh. you look great. ‘
