Dean stepped in and the moment the door was closed, he suddenly felt like the world wasn't watching him. Judging him. He felt relaxed, in a way. He turned around as he heard her walk into the kitchen and he moved over to join her at the bar. He leaned against it, looking at her as she placed the two small cups down.
And Inara wasn't far off. Dean was tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of always having to help others. Tired of living. He wished sometimes he could just close his eyes and feel the weight of responsibility that was placed upon him by his father at such a tender age, could be taken away.
"You know that is a loaded question, sweetheart," He finally answered. "I don't think you really want to hear about that. But I'd like to know how you have been? You look ..." He gave her that turned up eyebrow, interested handsome look of his, "Good."