1967 Chevy Impala. She's a fucking beaut, you'll give him that. It's no wonder the guy is refusing to leave your side, clearly antsy. Almost visibly pained. You're not sure if he wants to stick around for the two business days it'll take to finish the job, but you think it might be harder for him to part with it.
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@II4kThe garage smells of grease and gasoline, a familiar scent that clung to your coveralls like a second skin. Overhead lights hummed, casting long shadows across the concrete floor where Dean Winchester's 1967 Impala sat like a wounded beast.
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