Butterflies & Fireworks

Chapter 3 ~ Good Company

The time spent hacking at trees was easily hours, while Y/N read her book and baked cookies. She kept reading, only stoping when she heard Dean outside. Getting up from the couch she found her way to the door, opening it. She crossed her arms over her chest as she stepped outside, having put on boots as she passed them. Dean was standing next to the impala, a sled pilled four feet high with wood just behind him. His breath was heavy and carried on the air in a gust of fog while he reached for the roof with his sleeve, brushing the snow off in an avalanche over the side.

"Hey." Dean turned when he heard Y/N call out.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"You want a hand?" He was out of breath, that she could see, but he dropped his shoulder and lifts his chin, shaking his head as he waved at her.

"No, sweetheart, you go back inside, I got this."

"You want me to make you some coffee? Or maybe some hot chocolate?" He smiled as his chest heaved.

"You know what, that sounds really good. I would love a cup of hot chocolate if you're making some."

"Sure thing."

"It shouldn't take me much longer; I'll be in shortly."

"It'll be ready for ya." He nodded his acknowledgment before turning back to his jobs, while Y/N went back inside to start on the warm beverage. She couldn't help feeling giddy at the idea of Dean working away all day to collect wood for their fire, only to come home to a warm cup of cocoa. She shook her head, what kind of thinking was this? It's all so primitive. She wasn't that kind of girl anyway. She was a capable hunter, a great hunter, as a matter of fact, so why did she want some guy to take care of her. Why did she want Dean to take care of her? It wasn't only that. Why did shewant to take care of Dean? Less than a week ago she would have been at his throat for half the things he'd done today, mind you he wouldn't have done half the things he had, had she still been at his throat. Regardless, now all she wanted to do was sit by the fire with him, watching movies and drinking whatever they want, safe and warm. She was strong on her own, she didn't need anyone, so why did she want someone. No just anyone. Dean.

Y/N pulled the milk from the fridge, adding it to a pot and set it on the stove on low. She prepped the cups and put them next to the heating milk as her stomach started to grumble. She hadn't eaten since the toast that morning and judging by the lack of light outside she reckoned it to be past 5. If she was hungry, she could only imagine that Dean was nothing short of famished and so, she started on a dinner. Finding what she needed in the pantry and fridge, Y/N settled on lasagna. These people had everything, she noted. Dean, just as promised, stepped inside as she poured the milk over the powdered chocolate mix, stirring it before setting it in front of his non explicitly claimed seat. The lasagna was already in the oven by the time Dean sat down with a huff. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were red from the cold and his eye lashes seemed longer and fuller due to the melted snow on them. His hair was a mess and slightly weighted down by the wet, but despite all that, he was smiling. A soft smile yet genuine and she could tell he was tired.

"That's for you." She pointed at the cup in front of him.

"Thanks." He said, pulling it closer to his body, doing his best to absorb the heat it let off.

"I just put lasagna in the oven so it should be ready pretty quick. I assume you're hungry." As though his body was mocking him, his stomach growled loudly, throwing both into the giggles. "I'll take that as a yes."

"I guess so. Do you want me to help? I'll set the table." He began getting up prompting to Y/N all but pushed him back into his seat.

"Oh no no no, I've been sitting all day, seriously I need to stretch my legs little. You just sit okay." She looked him dead in the eye, awaiting his surrender.