(no subject)

[elinorwise]

Я знаю, никто не любит, когда так говорят о несъедобных вещах)) но это очень сука вкусный текст.
Понемногу, по чайной ложечке. Десяток-другой абзацев. Потом уйти - отвернуться от экрана, заняться делами - и крутить в голове, вспоминая строчку за строчкой.
Обожаю.

His hands began to tremble just like they had when he held a gun for the first time … just like they had when he held Sammy for the first time, careful of the baby's head. Careful of the baby's warm, squirming body.


"Okay, c'mon, on the bed. On your back."


The muscles in his jaw twitched - it was an order concealed into a few words spoken really softly, as if telling a child a goodnight story and Sam looked big, huge and looming over him like a monster out of fairytales.


But Sam wasn't a monster, the eyes gave that away, if one looked really closely. Those hazel eyes, soft and gentle as they were, told a wicked, wicked little tale of just how much Sam was going to enjoy this and just how much Dean was going to hate it. Hate this, but never Sam.


And his little brother knew that very well.

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