Diary Drabble – Fight

He was all out of fight. Dean couldn’t catch his breath, the weight pressing on his chest preventing him from getting more air into his lungs. His heart raced and his skin tingled, and where his shirt had got rucked up there was a draught up his back. Somehow, and he didn’t remember doing it, he’d lost a sock. And the pillow he was laying on was bunched up in his neck.

“Do you give in?”

Dean scowled up at his captor, holding an expression of pure irritation for all of a minute before breakin...