For some reason he couldn’t really recall, Dean dreamed of horses that night, huddled with Sammy in the backseat of the Impala. He dreamed of horses and sunshine and a warmth at his back; of kind, loving laughter surrounding him; of long blond hair cascading around him.
This paragraph? This one right here? KILLED ME DEAD. Oh, Dean<.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-02-17 10:12 am (UTC)This paragraph? This one right here? KILLED ME DEAD. Oh, Dean<.