Dean sighed, a smile finally meeting his eyes as she spoke.  He felt a wave of relief washing over him.  His more immature side wanted to cringe at how sappy he was being, and how sappy she was being back.  It was something they had avoided and made fun of other people for, when they were younger, and mostly saw each other as friends.

Only he never really saw her as a friend, all the way back on the first night they met.  He was smitten.  He was already possessive and found himself wondering what her hair smelled like when she slept, or what kind of music she listened to.  They hadn’t introduced themselves, other than with looks, and he still couldn’t stop his mind from wondering what her hand felt like, or what sounds she made when she was happy or sad.

As he zoned out and thought about them when they were young, after her mentioning her old self, he went back into cringe sappy mode in his head, outwardly smirking and furrowing his brow.

The way his heart jumped into his throat when she introduced herself, and her name rolled off her tongue.
The way her hand felt so small in his own when they first shook hands.

He remembered her hair, and the way the moon seemed to hit it in a way that made her glitter, and his heart want to die.  He couldn’t help kiss her that night.  It was the only way to stop a heart attack.  It was exciting and new.  She was innocent, but strong.

And finally, his mind brushed over them in her room, sneaking around while her parents were asleep, feeling her heart racing in her neck when they kissed, hearing the television blaring downstairs.  

Coming out of his memories, and back to reality, he smiled, his eyes a bit teary, “I believe that.  And you’re still that girl.  You should feel your heart, right now.”

He pulled her up his chest a bit to kiss her nose, “I’m not going anywhere.  I wanted to…but that would be stupid.  I would just…”
He pecked her lips, “End up.”, another peck, “Back here.”