[Cherries are red. Blood is red. Not the same red, no. He can tell just by sight alone all the different ways the colors are the same now. But maybe a cherry dipped in--
--Dean really needs a fucking drink. Earlier with Jo must not have been enough.]
The people in your world apparently don't know how to make a good drink.
[He looks around, listening. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. This would be a lot easier if he couldn't hear her heartbeat.]