Dean Winchester Aesthetic Novels & Stories

That's why now, as she entered Dean Winters' office—her own cousin's sanctuary—two of them still flanked her like stone sentinels while the other three remained posted outside, their backs to the door like human barriers. Dean stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his tall frame silhouetted against the panoramic cityscape thirty stories below. At the sound of her entrance, he pivoted on his heel. Sunlight streamed through the glass, catching in his tousled golden curls and glinting off the Cartier cufflinks adorning his wrists, their subtle shimmer complementing his charcoal Brioni suit.