papers scatter the motel room floor, blonde hair falling lazily over tired features. the silence within the room could be cut with a knife, both figures concentrating on their own research. personally, jemima was still seething from her argument with dean a mere twenty minutes ago, an argument he had shortly left soon after. she hears the smack of the younger winchester’s lips, readying himself for some sort of conversation, ❝ don’t even think about it. ❞ she mutters, flicking through the pages of the book in her lap, ❝ you may be older than me but it doesn’t mean i have to listen to you. ❞ / @lightcreators









