Myth Alive |meqara|
Continuing From
meqara
”Hey, Dean.” Meg took a look at his hand, but didn’t accept the shake. Her purple eyes flashed, meeting his green ones. “Mind telling me how I got here?” He might be used to unknown girls in his bed, but she certainly wasn’t used to being that girl. She knew one thing- she needed water.
Dean smiled at Meg, wondering why she didn't shake his hand. Granted – it may not have been customary to shake hands in Ancient Greece and that the gesture confused her more than anything else. Eh, it wouldn't really matter since he needed her to get back to her time at one point or another. “If I knew how you got here, I'd tell you,” Dean sighed, pinching his temple. “I found you unconscious outside and rather than let you get run over or..who the hell knows what...so I brought you to a motel so you were safe until you woke up,” the Winchester explained, giving a half shrug. “Oh, uh, need anything? Water? Food? Those I can give you. An explanation? I wish,” he grumbled.
