LILITH | DEAN WINCHESTER [ ✓ ]

39. fake smile

◖𓈈﹗ ﹙ thirty-nine ﹚
❛ ▬▬ FAKE SMILE. . . ❜

Driving under a relentless rain through the city streets seemed to be one of the things Dean enjoyed as much as the solitary roads accompanied only by the moonlight on his shoulders. The trees swayed in the same way that the hunter's body trembled after hours in the rain. Dean had seen his lips turn purple and his nose reddened; he gripped the steering wheel and occasionally changed the radio station, searching for a song that pleased his ears. Lilith took his hand when the traffic light turned red, momentarily dispelling the cold and warding off any subsequent illness.

"New hair, huh?" they were heading to the motel where Sam and Bobby were staying. "Trying to be an elf? And what about your eyebrows? Did they go out for cigarettes and never come back?"

That made her smile inwardly. Dean was a fool, and she couldn't believe he had seen The Lord of the Rings and then had the audacity to call her a nerd.

"Don't you like it?"

"Nah, it suits you."

"Do you mind if I light a cigarette?" Anxiety was gnawing at her mind. She knew a discussion about demons would soon approach, and there would be little truth to be spoken. Lilith didn't wait for an answer; she opened her bag and rummaged through heroin and other drugs to find the pack of cigarettes. She rolled down the window to let in some fresh air.

"So, you're back... and the drugs," Dean muttered as if he had been granted absolute truth. "Lilith... What were you doing in hell? I saw you, it was you."

"I wanted to see you," she replied, taking a drag of the cigarette and exhaling the smoke out of the window. The lights passed by quickly, and the neon signs with advertisements seemed like a better backdrop than Dean's face.

"How did you do it?" Now, the hunter wasn't beating around the bush or allowing the woman to avoid lying to him.

"Witchcraft."

"Are we going to start with lies?"

Her throat had tightened along with a throbbing and painful headache, desperate to dive into the drug that was in her bag, sheltered and ready, waiting patiently because she was sure she would return with her mouth drooling and her heart racing. She wished she could manipulate time in a way that surpassed the limits of the power of natural witch chrono-kinesis. To be the mistress of absolute time, without beginning or end. She would grab her body by the hair and place it a few years into the future to avoid these kinds of problems with Dean. She would live in a space-time where she was finally happy, or simply repeat the nineteen years of her life before her mother's disappearance.

"I'm not lying, I found a way to pay you a little visit."

"Did you make a deal?" That was his main stipulation. It flattered her that he thought so highly of her.