I'm actually quite proud of this prompt, personally and was worried at first that I might not get the message I was trying to convey out properly but I think I did a good job, yeah? Anyways, here's another prompt for the Unnatural Writers Club!

If you guys like it, leave a review and let me know (and if there are certain characters you want me to write more of, let me know)

Prompt: Red Lipstick

It was the little things that he caught during each hunt when it came to interviewing the victims and witnesses. Things so subtle that should Sam blink, he'd miss them, but never once did he miss them.

It was the hair of one victim of a wendigo attack, blonde golden waves that fell down her back like ocean waves, and when Sam first noticed it, he felt his heart sink and throat grow a lump in it. The hair reminded him of their beach trips they'd have back in Palo Alto, riding in a beat up car Sam could barely afford with his girlfriend in the passenger seat. She'd have a picnic basket resting on her lap, filled with homemade sandwiches and fresh cookies, and the sun rays would hit her hair just right, lighting it up and tricking his eyes into believing her hair was real gold. The windows would be rolled down all the way, and the wind would blow those golden locks everywhere, causing them to blow and tumble like the waves they'd soon be in. Those were the same golden waves that tickled his nose whenever she laid her head on his shoulder, soft when he ran his hand through them and an uncontrollable mess but perfect to him.

It was another witness' blue eyes, which was still warm and soft despite witnessing a tragic incident. Hers were full of kindness and love, able to see the good in a world Sam only knew as dark and full of evil. Those eyes never saw the dark horrors or the things that went bump in the night. Her eyes were blue like the sky and had the ability to lighten up his own world, a ray of light through the darkness that haunted Sam and was what made Sam see that there wasn't just darkness in the world. She helped Sam see the good and made him feel normal, like everyone else and not different. Her eyes held so much emotion and made her appear thoughtful and intuitive while also able to make her appear fragile and sensitive as well. They would tear up during sad commercials of abandoned puppies or sick children, and they would, when she was happy, rival the sun in their brightness. Those blue eyes she had always made Sam feel like he had a home and place where he belonged.

The vampire victim they interviewed had her laugh. It was the melodic sound that filled any space she was in and wrapped tightly around Sam like a warm blanket. Truthfully, hearing that laugh had taken him off guard and he almost expected her to be standing there, air ringing with her contagious laughter. It would bubble from her lips as easily as breathing air and Sam always joined in on it because he never wanted such a sound to disappear. He had grown up with howls and screams and gruff voices but this laughter was sweet and genuine. It was the laughter where your whole body was thrown into it, her head tipped back, hair spilling down her back and cheeks pink from laughing so hard. Dean had the laugh as well, Sam mused, but somehow the laugh was just slightly different from hers. He could think back to every joke messed up, punchline delivered and yet, that would hardly matter to the couple because they both in the end would be breathless with tears in their eyes.

Sam could remember dancing with her, swinging her in circles as they danced around their small apartment, the way her hair was like a cape behind her and eyes bright and laughter warm. They would dance clumsily, neither very good at dancing and she'd step on his toes and they'd trip over the edge of the carpet yet Sam still loved those moments because somehow they'd end up in a heap on the ground, not bothering to move afterwards. He remembered rainy days curled together under a blanket, movie playing quietly after a long day of classes and could practically hear her humming as she busied herself in the kitchen, baking away. Only a year and half together but Sam had enough memories for it to feel like a decade.

But out of everything he loved about her, it was her smile that was his favourite thing about her. She had a smile that was able to make you feel fuzzy and warm, chasing away storm clouds and bringing out the sun. It was smile that could make any day just a little bit better. Everything about her smile was addictive and the moment she started to smile, Sam found himself smiling a well. That was the first thing that greeted him every morning when he woke up as well as when they'd meet again later after class. Her smile was the only thing Sam was never able to find another of. He had seen so many with her eyes, her laughter, her hair, her figure even, but the smile was completely and uniquely her. Every other smile compared to hers lacked something and even when her lips were painted red with lipstick, Sam could spot it out from a crowd of look alikes because there was nothing that could copy it.

And when he lay there in his own blood, he assumed his mind was playing tricks as he stared back at those same blue eyes he had fallen in love with years ago. The pain had to be making him delirious and as she moved closer, Sam reached a shaky hand for her. She had that smile that was so achingly sweet on her face, blonde hair wavy against her pale nightdress. It had been so long since he had last seen her. Although she had become a series of memories locked away at the far back of his mind, her figure was clear before his eyes. She crouched down to his level, one hand cupping his cheek and when Sam's hand gently held her arm, he felt her beneath his fingers, solid and alive.

"Jess," he breathes, "I've missed you so much." It's a whisper, his voice but she hears it loud and clear. Everything else around them melts away and it's just the two of them, nothing else.

Her thumb rubs his cheek affectionately, blue eyes filled with love. "I have too, Sammy. Let's go home," she murmurs, voice sweet like honey.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you," he begins and Jess shakes her head, blonde locks bouncing slightly.

"I forgive you."

She stands up, holding a hand out to Sam and he reaches for it, grasping the hand tightly. The feeling of weakness and pain evaporates the moment he takes her hand. He feels lighter, safer. Sam allows himself to follow her, letting go. It's pointless holding on, and squeezing her hand, Sam lets her know he is ready. The two vanish, flickering away like the flame of a candle in the wind.