[b] 1995[/b]

Dean was happy to see a smile on her face, even if it made his throat swell a bit with nerves.  He would never let her see them, though.  In her state, and her situation, he would never want to take advantage.  His own thoughts caused him to flinch a bit, frowning after she turned away from him to lay her head on his shoulder.   He slowly leaned his face against the top of her head as she spoke.

Her smarts and her love for art was one of the endearing things, to him.  It was a relief to see someone be so passionate about things that he considered mundane, and with the job he was wrapped up with, with John, a waste of his time.  But watching her read was one of his odd pastimes, a welcome quiet break from his life.

“Hey…don’t beat yourself up over that, alright?  I mean, things could be worse.  You could be Sam.”, he quipped as he hugged his arm.  He placed his free hand on top of hers, brushing his thumb back and forth across her knuckles.  He almost didn’t hear her question, as he zoned out to the smell of her hair, but he pulled himself out of the thousand yard stare and shrugged.

“Um…I might have been waiting for you, outside your last class.  After what happened in the yard, I was gonna walk you to lunch.  When you didn’t come out, I figured you were here.  Turns out, my stalking led me straight to you.”, he said with a laugh.  The wind caught her hair, blowing it onto his face, and he took a deep breath.

“And I don’t think you should change, by the way.  All those things?  The things they hit you for, and make fun of you for?  That’s why I lo-…Those things are what make you, you.  I don’t climb stairs for just anyone.”, he muttered, instinctively kissing the top of her head.