𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴, 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝚃 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙼𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚂 𝙰 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝚆𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙷 ; 𝚂𝙰𝙼 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁. sam … god. he looks different. somehow taller, as if that were even possible ; ira feels an odd sort of presence stood there, peering through the window at him, unbeknownst. mesmerized in a way. ira hadn’t given it enough thought to even consider the winchester boys showing up, but now it’s happening, apparent before him, he almost kicks himself for not expecting it sooner ; jesus. nausea gripping his throat while he watches, noticing them both speaking to a number of his neighbours ; fuck. is he next ?
you need to get out of here, the thought burns behind his eyes ; better to flee the scene than do this, now, so extremely unequipped and unprepared. shaking his gaze off of him, dunham frantically searches his house for a coat, keys, phone, wallet, ( not even considering that practically running out your house at whatever time of morning this is is at all strange behaviour ) and just behind his front door, he has to suck in a deep breath. when he’s out, and the doors locked, his hands are in his pockets and he’s walking fast, hoping he’ll not be noticed, until … there’s a shout. an all too familiar voice. and he stops dead. oh god. here we go. // @smmie.