“What color would you use?”

“That's what hope was. Clinging to something you weren't sure would ever be yours. But you had to hold on anyway, because without it, what was the point?”

“You seem like a strong-minded young woman. You’re very beautiful, too. I would have been proud to call you my daughter.”

“I smiled. “You trust me more than Cas?”“Cas would choose a case of beer over me.”My laughter echoed through the cemetery. “That’s not true!” I brushed the hair from my face. “The others have your back.”“Yet you were the one who saved my life.”

“I pulled away. He stopped me with a hand on my wrist. “Wait,” he said. “I know what you’re thinking.”“What?”“It’s written all over your face.” He pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hope is a waking dream.' I let the words echo in my head. The quote reminded me of that feeling you get when you start to wake from a dream you don't want to leave. That crushing sensation in the center of your chest, like you are losing an important piece of yourself you won't ever get back.”

“I closed my eyes. His fingers found mine. I buried my face on his chest, my vision hazy. "I won't remember you.""You will," he whispered into my hair. "Someday. I'll find you.”