An Oprah Moment

                                    

                                          
[Dean]
                          
Rayne and I got to the forest and walked a little ways into the foliage, only stopping when we couldn't hear the cars from the streets anymore. We came to a clearing and I decided it was as good a place as any to divulge our souls. And that was most likely in the literal sense.
                          
I watched Dean pull nervously at the collar of the hideous shirt that he was wearing. "I still can't believe you dressed me like that," I said accusingly.
                          
He looked down at his clothes. "I think it makes you look mature."
                          
"Did you at least get a good peek?" I giggled.
                          
Oh, God. 
                          
Did I just seriously giggle?
                          
My ... his face turned to one of annoyance. "Not everyone is as twisted as you, Dean," he said.
                          
"So you got a good peek," I deduced, wiggling my eyebrows at him.
                          
Ugh. It was so weird flirting with...myself.
                          
He rolled his eyes and turned away from me, but I knew my own reactions quite well and I saw indication of embarrassment on his features.
                          
Standing there, talking with myself: it was odd how easy it was to feel detached from my own body. I mean, yeah, it was me — but not really. I was in here, looking at my other self through Rayne's eyes.
                          
I paid attention to the way Rayne must see me. My body was quite larger and taller than hers; that was evident. But I also noticed the way my small figure instinctively leaned into his. I didn't do it consciously; my breathing and heartbeat would just slow down slightly whenever I was next to him.
                          
Maybe it was like survival instinct or something. My body felt safe with him around.
                          
I hoped Rayne felt safe with me when she was her own self.
                          
Dean suddenly dropped to sit cross-legged, and after a beat I copied his position and sat down to face him.
                          
"So...now what?" he asked.
                          
I shrugged. "I guess we have our Oprah moment. The witch said that it was up to us to figure out how to accept her gift of...'understanding and unity', I think she called it."
                          
Dean nodded in agreement. "She saw us fighting yesterday in the store. Remember how she warned us not to make the same mistake that her nieces did...not to spend our last days fighting?"
                          
"That should have probably been a red flag," I admitted.
                          
"So maybe in order to fix it, we have to stop fighting," he proposed.
                          
"But I don't think Mrs. Hartley mentioned her husband and son fighting on their last day...they were just super wigged out."
                          
"Well, maybe they fought that night. Or...maybe they didn't resolve their differences."
                          
"And how do we 'resolve our differences'?" I asked, putting air quotations around that phrase.
                          
"Well, maybe you can start by not being so sarcastic," he scolded. "As I recall, Ms. Lee said that you needed to stop hiding your true feelings behind your pride and arrogance." 
                          
I scoffed. "And as I recall, she told you to confess your undying love for me," I said, smiling widely.
                          
Dean snorted. "She did not say that. She said that I shouldn't let my hot temper get in the way."
                          
"...Of your undying love for me," I finished for him.
                          
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, the underlying message seems to be that we need to openly talk about our feelings."