LILITH | DEAN WINCHESTER [ ✓ ]

18. one week with dean

◖𓈈﹗﹙chapter eighteen﹚
❛ ▬▬ one week with dean . . . ❜

DAY ONE│a girl full of secrets

It had been more than five months since Lilith joined the witches, driven by the need to become a powerful woman and rescue her mother from a group of witches and supernatural beings. She avoided her birthday by passing out for a whole day, escaped from the painful feelings in the most cowardly way possible, cried and got drunk on Christmas and New Year's Eve until she fell unconscious on Mandy and Prussia. She had become a living being dedicated to the study of witchcraft, making her books a refuge to close her mind and focus on what really mattered. Lilith was one of the most promising witches, surpassing Heather's record. She already had two blossomed pearls on her arm: a ruby red one representing the ability of pyrokinesis, and another amethyst one that she obtained relatively recently, astral and mental projection. She was working on the third one: mind control. A new piece was inserted into the supernatural game, and the night began to whisper the name of the first demon, becoming famous in the corners where the sunlight never reached.

The sound of her low boots echoed on the ceramic floor of a cheap motel in the state of Texas, in the city of Wichita Falls. Lilith dragged a small-sized suitcase filled with books and witchcraft gadgets, and she placed her small bag on top of it, where she kept personal hygiene items and some clothes for a couple of days. Despite the emotional complications, she had managed to maintain her weight, although her skin looked paler and colorless. Her cheekbones were even more pronounced, with a severe charm, and she had painted her lips with a soft crimson tint to conceal their lifelessness, although she hadn't taken the time to correct her huge dark circles. Lilith pushed back the hood of her black coat when she reached room 27, adjusted her partially straightened hair with her fingers, and went over how she should behave. She knocked three times, unsteady.

She had a headache, and her spirits had hit rock bottom since the beginning of January. She inhaled the scent of wood and chemicals (the janitor was cleaning the hallway, listening to loud music, unaware of the girl's presence). Lilith toyed with her ring finger nail that was about to come off, a consequence of a potion gone wrong, while waiting for Dean Winchester to open the damn door.

The hunter had a textbook reaction, as expected by Lilith. The witch's behavior at first was designed to resemble the typical stereotype of a young college girl that everyone knew, but she didn't have enough energy to pretend in front of Dean, nor did she care about his opinion of her appearance. Dean blocked the entrance by leaning against the door frame, blatantly observing every detail of her face and body as if he had two green magnifying glasses instead of eyes. For a few seconds, shocked to see him after a long time, her brain short-circuited and remained stuck, forgetting about her motor skills and feeling the weight of Dean's energy crushing her. After recovering, Lilith rolled her eyes and pushed him aside to enter the room.