Dean raised his eyebrows a bit confused when Lexi said she wasn’t uncomfortable, pressed up against him in the tight corridor of the armory.  He stopped trying to move past her, momentarily, turning his face to hers.  He scanned her face, noticing their height difference, and the way her auburn hair framed her face.  His heart rate picked up uncomfortably in his chest, and he took a deep breath.

“Nah.  I’m not un-uncomfortable.  We just don’t know each other very well and being pressed up against a total stranger, well…almost total stranger in the middle of a tiny room just seems a bit um…pers-personal.”, he stammered out, stepping to the side enough to let her step into the deeper parts of the armory alone.

He watched her as she pushed the hair behind her ear, following her fingers with his eyes carefully, and then took another deep breath, clearing his throat. He placed his hand on one of the counters, turning his lower body to the side as she commented on the bunker again.  He nodded his head, biting his lip, “It was kinda passed down to us by our grandfather.  That’s a long story.  It’s become a pretty good home, and we have actual beds.”

Dean laughed softly, as her smile pierced through him and caused his heart to race again.  Coming here alone with her, while he was sober was a horrible idea.  His brain was looking for some sort of human on human contact that wasn’t Sam, and he was finding it.  Yet, he felt like his chest was going to explode with nervous energy.  As he stared at her with a little more intention, he reiterated his thoughts from earlier in the night, his face serious, “And we have plenty of room.”