𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐦, supernatural

iv.

" gimme shelter "

"Dean."

"Mmh."

"Where's Rory?"

"She must've gone out to get coffee or something. Go back to sleep."

"Dean."

"What?!"

"Her stuff is gone. She's gone."

━━━━━━━━━

Aurora felt each and every crack through her overused soles as she walked down the damp pavement; with her duffle bag over her shoulder, she strode away from the stolen car and towards the shabby motel. She could faintly overhear an Elvis song coming from inside, but she couldn't be bothered to try and label the reminiscent lyrics - tiredness harshly pulled at her eyelids and her drained body felt as if it was only moving along due to the mysterious work of a master puppeteer.

Behind the front desk sat a fairly young woman, absentmindedly flipping through a magazine as she annoyingly chewed on a bubblegum. The sound of the door opening and closing did not distract her one bit.

Aurora cleared her throat as she approached the woman, resting her shaky hands on the hard wood of the counter, "Room for one, please."

The woman's attention shifted to the redhead, her eyes looking her up and down with interest as she raised an eyebrow.

"Who broke your heart?"

"Excuse me?"

She shrugged, "You've got that look in your eye. Deceived."

When Aurora didn't respond, clearly caught off guard by the question, she took it as a clue to leave her be, though still curious. She stood up and went to select a set of keys from all the ones that were orderly stationed behind her, an action which took a dreadfully long amount of time, making Aurora impatiently tap her foot on the ground as she waited.

"And how long will you be staying with us, sugar?"

"Just the night."

"Lovely. You have a good rest, now. Holler if you need anything." she finished and ushered Aurora upstairs with a wink.

Room 33 was, ironically, a colorful and patterned mess, which almost made the girl question whether she was actually in a motel. Bright greens and reds burst before her eyes, as well as uncoordinated paintings which hung on the walls, completely disagreeing with the emotional state she was currently in.

She had walked away. Again. Hastily, recklessly, impulsively - she had left. In the heat of the moment, as she cunningly walked out of the door, she did not think. Not about Dean, or Sam, or how much happiness she had felt the moment she had found them again, after all that time, or about how much she actually wanted nothing more than to stay with them and Castiel, to fight along their side.

But her mind had taken the lead, and it had other plans.

The girl rested her bag on the carpeted floor before letting herself wearily fall onto the bed, which was comfortable enough, but cold - cold like soaking wet clothes, sticking to her skin and sending icy chills all the way to her bones - cold, like loneliness.