"oh yeah? you seem pretty damn comfortable when you give-" he hesitates, a barely there stutter lingering on his brims as he looks to her stature. emerald hues flickers over to her arm, the very thing that has dean hooked. what calls to him, even now. to call their transaction by their truest nature, it feels foreign on his tongue, he can't bring it to fruition. no, he can't call it blood, nor singed with the name demon. he can't call it his addiction, for that will shine an all true light onto a part of him he has yet to embrace. he settles for an alternative for now. "-it to me."
but it takes two to tango, doesn't it? he can't deny the hunger that he feels, even now, in this motel room with her. his brother is topside once more, and no one, even her, seem to understand why. his emotions feel like they are consuming him, spiraling in his head, clambering for clarity. he shouldn't want this, want her. but it calls to him, even now. the demon blood calls. dean shakes his head like he doesn't want to fight, not now. not even with their battle of wits, sharpened tongues a weapon itself. "ruby," dean sighs, a man driven to desperation, yearning, wanting, needing. "i need more."