Dean’s got demons to kill and no time for anybody’s patronizing bullshit, especially not from Cas, so it’s not hard to get in the Impala and drive away. But later that night, glancing at his phone before bed, he finds he does have one more thing to say.
He opens up his texts and types
can’t believe u watched star wars without me u asshole
and then switches his phone off, rolls over, and scowls until he falls asleep.
Shit. The thing with DeanCas.
Is that it makes you want to explain love a billion different ways.
They make you want to talk about love in the form of simple kisses underneath foliage of trees but also in sprawling metaphors of the universe’s energy and celestial bodies.
They make you want to define love through the the written word, the spoken word, the sung word, the drawn word. And you write a hundred thousand sentences, and you sing their ‘i need you’s, and you immortalize their faces on paper, and you speak in the tongue of the greatest love story that has ever been told.
They make you want to find love in a monstrous world; or in classroom halls, or in warm coffee shops, or in a little house with a garden, or by the ocean or maybe sea.
And the greatest thing, really, is this:
They make you want love to happen. Not even to yourself. But to somebody else.
I don’t know about you.
Oh God, this is amazing…
Metafiction, also known as romantic irony in the context of Romantic works of literature, uses self-reference to draw attention to itself as a work of art, while exposing the “truth” of a story. “Metafiction” is the literary term describing fictional writing that…