Confident green eyes and a smirk that belonged to a man who was so full of himself normally it would disgust you, but for every rule there is and exception and he was one of them. That rough leather jacket hugged him in all the right places and he drunk a bottle of beer. You could smell it on his breath as he slid himself on the other side of your booth by the window and started to talk to you.
“So what’s a pretty little lady like you doing here, in such a rough, testosterone filled environment?” He asked as his eyes travelled down your body. Instinctively your hands went across your chest.
“I’m meant to be hunting, but right now I have a dick flirting with me.” You hissed trying to hide your blush. He rested his arm on the table and leaned his head into the palm of his hand.
“I love it when girls play hard to get.” He smirked and his other hand disappeared under the table to rest on your knee. You glared at him warning him not to try anything further but secretly loosing your self in his touch. A slight shiver gave out from your soul as he started to rub circles in your knee.
“I don’t know, I think you like it.” He smirked as his hand slowly started to travel up further, you swatted it away.
“Get bent, do you know who I am?” You hissed and gave him a death glare. Giving up on the sultry approach he placed both his hand atop of yours and gave you that award winning smirk of his.
“Your (First name), best female hunter going. Now may I dare ask why your here?” He asked as he brought both your hands closer to him making you lean across the table.
“I’m here to look for the son of a bitch that took my husband from me.” His eyes widened as he leaned himself closer to you and whispered in your ear.
“Well here I am hon.’ So what will you do with me.” The two of you leaned back and stared at each other. His eyes with amusement your eyes with pure hatred.
“I was thinking about killing the bastard but now I just want to do this.” You leaned over the table and kissed him. It was forceful, angry and passionate. You finally separated from him, huffing and panting.
“Wow.” He said in the same state as you.
“Come home Dean, be the man I married again and not this machine.” You begged and pleaded with him but he only gave off a small sad smirk and he turned from you.
“My job will always come before you and that happy little life.” And that thing that took your husband walked away again. But such is the life of a hunter, even if it killed you on the inside and you could respect that. Throwing a fifty on the booth table you turned and left the building, there are demonic omens in the next town over you have to investigate. You left and a small smile appeared on your lips in the irony of it all.
Hunting is how you met and hunting is what’s keeping you apart.