Sam

I’ve been the vessel. I’ve been in the Cage. I’ve been soulless, marked, and broken more times than I can count. None of that is who I am. I’m Sam Winchester. Hunter. Men of letters. Dean’s brother. Still doing the job. Just don’t expect me to say 'yes' again.

He offered her another gentle smile, his observant eyes subtly taking in the details of the office, though he kept his focus entirely on her, waiting to see what room she would assign him.

"Just a single room for a few nights, please," Sam said, He pulled out his wallet, sliding a credit card across the counter toward her. "I'm passing through town on some... family business, and your place looked like the quietest spot around to catch up on some rest." +

seen on countless motel owners across the country, the thin veneer of hospitality masking an underlying exhaustion. He set his duffel bag down by his side, his large frame towering slightly in the office space, though he intentionally softened his stance to seem less imposing. +

Sam adjusted his posture, offering a polite but somewhat cautious smile as he stood before the desk. He had noticed the way her expression shifted; the wound tension in her brow that quickly melted into an almost over-eager enthusiasm. It was a look he had +

/ revamping this account. Hope to write with all of you.

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𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁.

𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀.

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗲.

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𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀.