чоʉʼʀє тнϵ ₦ϵӿт ᵻи Ⱡᵻиϵ || adam + dean
Having found himself nodding off over his book, break time seemed a necessity. Adam had donned his jacket, making sure the pockets were full of monster repellants of the usual kinds, then grabbed a soda from the mini-fridge in his room and took a trip down the back stairs out into the world.
The sun was low in the east, a bit of a surprise, since the kid had not realized it had even come up yet. If he kept the curtains drawn over the windows to hide the chaos-torn city he can occasionally trick himself into forgetting about the armageddon happening. The walk he took around a couple blocks with the hotel in the center is a poignant reminder, however, and by the time he spotted the hotel again at the end of the lap, he may have been more awake but he was also markedly more disgruntled.
Now Adam's planting his smoke firmly between his lips, freeing his hands to grasp the top of the chain link fence that encircles the back parking lot, to pull himself up and over. He lands gracefully enough on the pavement in the lot, both feet making contact at the same time, knees bending to absorb the shock of impact. He reaches up to retrieve the cigarette even though he immediately drags from it again, trying to time it so he'll be done just as he reaches the door.
But then he comes around a back corner and spots his eldest brother standing outside the door with an expectant expression of steely displeasure. Like he's his damn father, waiting up to confront Adam when he stays out past curfew. Absurdly, Adam has the urge to attempt to hide the cancer stick he's holding, but fuck that, he's not a child and Dean's definitely not his dad. Also he's plainly going to be pissed regardless. So the kid merely continues his course, still leisurely but not hesitant, tossing the butt aside as he nears Dean.
