Bound: A Supernatural Story ✔️

NINETEEN

Holly felt the slow, steady beating of her own heart. Her heart, not anyone else's. She opened her eyes, gazing at the ceiling. 

Her body was bathed in a light sweat, and the afternoon light filtered in through her closed shades, illuminating her and Sam's bodies.

"It worked," she breathed. She couldn't feel Dean anymore. She let the moment sink in.

Sam shuffled beside her, and his head moved into her vision.

"Hi," she said.

He smiled. "It worked, didn't it?"

Holly nodded, her mind whirring.

She was silent for a moment.

She felt...a little bit sore. Achy, but not in a totally painful way. Holly sat up, bringing the covers with her, still trying to wrap her mind around it.

She hadn't been herself for the last hour, but she had liked the person she had become. So much. And she wasn't going to lie, there was a part of her that wanted to pull Sam back to her and do it all over again. 

And in Holly's heart, where there used to be a smug smile and green eyes, there was nothing.

Sam drew himself up beside her, leaning against the headboard. He huffed, and turned to look at her. "It wasn't bad, was it?"

She couldn't help but laugh a little, but the sound caught in her throat. 

"It was great. I guess I'm a free woman now," she said, folding her hands. "I guess the spell was breakable after all."

Sam turned to look at the door. "Right. The spell."

Holly knew he had something else to say, but she didn't have the strength to ask him.

Dean was waiting outside that door. It was going to get awkward.

Was he okay? She couldn't feel him, so she didn't know, and that almost seemed... weird.

"I guess we'd better get moving," Holly said, quietly. 

Sam got off the bed and threw his jeans and shirt on. Holly eyed him, admiring his body, the heat still rising on her cheeks. He caught her gaze, and then quickly looked away. 

"What's with you?" she asked, sliding off her mattress and picking up her underclothes, quickly slipping them on, shaking. She picked up her shirt, throwing it over her head.

Sam paused right by the door, his eyes lingering on her drawings.

"It's nothing." 

"I may not be bonded with you, but I can tell something's on your mind." She was reaching dangerous territory, but Holly stepped forward, doing up her jeans. "Something wrong with one of my drawings?"

She was trying to keep it casual, like that day when they were standing in the same position by her desk, discussing passions and dreams. Sam turned to her.

"Your drawings are perfect."

"Thanks." The heat was still lingering on her cheek.

Maybe it was something in the air, or in the way that the light was filtering in, illuminating his eyes, but Holly saw something different in Sam just then. She saw him as not a Hunter, but a human man who had fallen hard.

She saw the compassion in his eyes, and it scared her.

She swallowed, moving a hand along the wall, towards the doorknob, but she stopped herself. A breeze tickled her face. A curl whipped along her brow.