Post by Cassiel on Mar 16, 2016 15:05:30 GMT -8
ZYLLAH--
It was morning already, Zyllah curled up on her side of the bed, her arms hugging the pillow as she fought her body. She didn’t want to wake up, she wanted to stay asleep. Last night would be a dream, it had been…
Not what she expected.
They had lost themselves in each other for a little while, just a little while. He had murmured things to her that she had never heard him say to another person around them. Little praises that thrilled her to bits.
Then the morning came, she finally relaxed her grip on the pillow. She laid there for a moment longer, what was she supposed to do now? Last night had been…
She wasn’t even sure. He had taken her to such heights and cascaded the lows with her before bringing her up again. Everything had been almost perfect.
“Castiel?” she murmured softly against the pillow, hoping he was still there – but she was also hoping he had left.
CASTIEL--
Cas had been up for a couple of hours by the time Zee started to stir from her sleep, nursing the headache that was almost as familiar to him now as the pleasant blur of drunkenness. Honestly, even the pain of hangover was welcome; it kept him – most of the time – from thinking too much on things better left untouched. But, aside from a trip out to get water – where he found himself bringing back two glasses instead of the one he'd gone for – and the mundane needs of his vessel, he'd remained in his room, slouched into a ratty old overstuffed chair he'd found buried in an old storeroom years back, not long after claiming the room as his own.
But this morning, not even the sharp pain in his head could keep him from thinking about the night before. Or, what he could remember of it, anyway. There'd been the successful run, the one he suspected only he had realized had come so close to disaster. And then the little impromptu party, the kids celebrating victory, celebrating life.
And then...there had been Zee, helping him stumble back to his room, a shift in their usual dynamic of her just taking away his drink and sending him off to bed like an errant child.
And he, desperate for escape, desperate for...anything to let him forget, had taken advantage of her. He was only thankful now that she'd seemed willing enough. He hadn't quite sunk low enough into his broken depravity to have forced her, at least. It never occurred to him as these thoughts ran in circles in his head that he had been the drunk one, not her. That he'd been less able, in many ways, of giving proper consent than she had been. And why would it occur to him? He'd never imagined the occasional longing he felt for her – and normally kept well buried – could have been reciprocated.
Because fuck letting people get too close. He was tired of losing what he loved.
But now she was stirring, and he glanced up from where he'd been staring vacantly at his now-empty glass. “Yeah, Zee.” His voice was rough, but somehow soft at the same time, filled with a sort of weary fondness. She was probably the closest thing he had to a best friend, and...he could only sit and wait to see if he'd ruined that one truly precious thing in his life – at least outside the kids he was attached to by bonds that were filled with both love and the baggage of the past.
“There's some water on the table for you,” he offered after a moment. “Thought you might be thirsty.” Before she could finish pulling herself from sleep and meet his eyes, he turned them back to the empty glass in his hands, turning it idly. Then, after more silence on his part, he murmured almost brokenly, “Sorry.”
ZYLLAH--
Zyllah moved in the bed when she heard him, shifting around to find where he was. Her eyes settled on him, a tentative little smile curling her lips. She wasn’t even sure what she should say, would he be mad? Would it be awkward? They hadn’t even come close to touching each other beyond them supporting each other physically. But the plea, his look, he had seen her – or so she thought. He probably didn’t even remember what he said.
She slid a hand under the blankets, realizing how naked she was – it felt even worse right now when last night, it had been just so right. She cleared her throat as she shifted in the bed to sit up, pulling the covers up as much as she could without exposing much of herself. Her breasts threatened to spill even with the security of her arms. “I am,” she smiled her thanks while studying him for another moment or two.
“I…” She blinked as she heard him speak again, “sorry for what?” Did he remember? Did he remember telling her good night, but not using her name? He had clearly said Dean’s name. She only knew of Dean and his legacy from the stories others told, but never directly met the man. Then again, one couldn’t be a hunter without knowing the Winchesters and the things they have done.
She tilted her head, “last night was,” she searched for words while furrowing her eyebrows, reaching to get her glass of water, exposing some of her bare back as she did. She took a sip then sat back against the headboard. “I liked it,” she spoke softly while holding onto the glass with one hand and the blankets with the other arm. “I…” She blinked, “did you?” Her voice suddenly very shy, she hated that about herself at that moment.
She usually never needed a man to help her form an opinion about herself.
CASTIEL--
He glanced up at her, careful – so, so careful – to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere inappropriate. Though, that almost made him laugh. After last night, was inappropriate even a thing anymore? Still, she was his friend, and he really didn't want to lose that. He wasn't sure he'd survive losing it, at least...not without breaking so badly he'd never be able to be put back together.
“Last night,” he finally answered, turning his eyes away from her again, loosening one hand from the glass he was clutching to gesture vaguely toward the clothes scattered about on the floor beside the bed, his and hers from last night mixed together, with the toe of one of his boots peeking from beneath her shirt. He regretted. He regretted being weak enough to have asked that of her, even if he remembered through the alcohol haze her nod of assent, her seeming willingness from beginning to end. Yeah, just another to add to his incredibly long list of regrets.
Not what they'd done, though, never that, not with her...but that he'd put her in a position where she'd felt she had to. Especially if it lost him her friendship.
He glanced back up when she spoke, inadvertently catching an eyeful of the smooth skin of her back, exposed as she reached for her water. He was caught by the sight, and by flashes of his hand roaming that skin – stroking and caressing, worshiping in the darkness. Only when she shifted to sit back against the headboard was he able to let loose the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding and focus on what she was saying to him.
An indecipherable look crossed his face, his head canting to the side as he studied her. He was trying to understand, to see if she was lying, trying to be kind to him – as she so often was – or if she genuinely meant what she was saying. Another regret there, the loss of so much of his grace, the loss of being able to find out what humans were thinking and feeling so much more effortlessly...even if he'd so often not understood what he gleaned from them. Now...he understood in ways he never could have before, but at the cost of becoming...well, useless, in so many ways.
“It was good, Zee,” he said suddenly, pushing himself to his feet with a groan. He remained silent as he closed the short distance to the bed, and then settled himself onto it beside her, so that his shoulder was so close to her that all either one would have to do was shift the slightest bit for them to touch. He almost regretted having bothered to throw on a shirt, now. The inadvertent, possibly innocent brush of skin against skin would have been welcome. But, he could settle for the comfort of feeling the warmth of her next to him, at least.
“I just...” He sighed, tilting his head so he could study her again. “Still, I'm sorry. It wasn't fair of me. You were just trying to help. I...get that. I do.” Suddenly, he realized he didn't want to see her reaction, whatever it might be. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall above the headboard, even as he felt compelled to continue. “We can just forget it ever happened. I don't... I don't want anything to change, little Shadow.” He sounded like he was going to say more, but...in the end, left it unsaid. Though, the words echoed in his mind, anyway. 'I don't want to lose you.'
ZYLLAH--
Zyllah chuckled as she looked over at their clothes, “we’ve made a fine mess,” a roll of her shoulders while she studied him. She wasn’t so sure right now, it usually was that they could read each other without really having to speak; but today, in the aftermath, she was suddenly so shy and felt like he was so far away. Almost like speaking to him over a long-distance line, so tinny.
Her eyes flicked to him again when he moved again, studying him and remembering how he looked without those clothes; her face flushed with color, she looked down at the glass for a moment.
When he sat down next to her, she looked up again, a smile dancing over her lips. Maybe last night wasn’t such a bad idea after all. She would take this setting as a concession of sorts, even if he never ended up saying anything. Maybe later today, they would act like nothing happened – but a small part, okay, a large part of her hoped he wouldn’t.
Zyllah watched him as he spoke, her eyes taking in the little details that she hadn’t noticed before about him. His eyes were bluer than the summer skies, but exhaustion traced lines in his face that she hadn’t seen until now. “I wanted to,” her voice was soft, she almost mumbled. Clearing her throat, she shook her head, “I wanted to,” her voice more firm now. “I swear you didn’t force me into anything,” she chuckled softly as she shifted in the bed to put the glass down on the table; exposing her back to him again. She waited a moment to gather her thoughts, her heart had given a queer bound at the words he had said about forgetting this ever happened.
“Why?” She shifted around, forgetting modesty now as her eyes took him in, they were blazing now. “Why would I let things change? You are Castiel, I am your shadow. I follow you where you go, if we end up in bed, so we end up in bed. I chose it, not you – you only asked.” She looked down for a second, breathing hard but also rather embarrassed at her verbal vomit.
CASTIEL--
He felt her eyes on him, almost as though he could see them studying him, examining him. Yet..there was still that lack he'd always enjoyed from her looks. No judgment, no pity, only compassion for the broken angel. When he was with her, sometimes, just sometimes, he could even forget he was a broken angel with faded grace. Even now, with this new thing between them, she made it so easy for him to just be, and to allow some of the immense weight he carried to fall away...even if only for a short time.
“Yeah, okay,” he replied reluctantly, still refusing to look at her, refusing to move at all. Fine, he didn't force her. But...sometimes, she seemed so willing to do anything to help him, he had to wonder just how far that desire to help would go. He still couldn't feel certain she'd done it because he had been the one to ask, or because she really wanted it. But he knew trying to press the point would only either piss her off, or make her defensive. Neither would really give him an answer.
The vehemence in her voice shocked him, and he dropped his head, blue eyes opening wide to just stare at her. She had fire to her, he knew this. He'd spent too much time with her, both fighting at her side and quieter, calmer moments, to ever think otherwise. But it was so rare that any of her temper was directed at him. He honestly wasn't sure what to do with it.
And the distraction of so much skin showing as the bedding she'd been clutching to her slipped a little really, really didn't help.
“I.. Zee. Zyllah. You're not just my fucking shadow. Fuck.” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before starting to let it drop. But he changed his mind, and instead reached to tuck a finger under her chin, lifting it gently, trying to meet her eyes. “You're so much more important than that. Don't you know that? Sometimes...I feel like you're the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused, then a bitter-sounding laugh bubbled up from deep inside him. “Well, as sane as I get these days.”
He fell silent then, studying her for a few moments, looking to see if she understood what he was so very terrible at trying to say. He trusted her, he depended on her...and sometimes, he felt more like he was her shadow than anything, a dim compliment to her brightness. It was why her name always amused him, in a secretive way. She was the shadow with a soul so bright he didn't even need to use his faded angelic sight to be able to see.
Feeling somehow faintly disgusted with himself, and not even sure why this time, he let his hand fall away, to settle back into his lap. But, at the same time, he was unable to look away from her, seeing her in a way he'd never had the opportunity to before – sleep-mussed and so different from what he was used to. It was a sight he realized he wouldn't at all mind seeing again...regularly.
ZYLLAH--
There was that intensity, tired, but it was there. She wanted to close her eyes for a moment and just steady herself, but he wouldn’t let her. When he kept speaking, her lips curled up into a content little smile. “Okay,” her voice was soft, then she added, “I am?”
A shake of her head as she shifted a bit under the blankets so she could look at him better, facing him now instead of sitting side-by-side. “Then stop feeling so bad about last night,” she snorted, “you should be accusing me of taking advantage of you.” A laugh tumbled from her lips as she studied him, “why are you looking at me like that?” She looked down at the blankets, adjusting them a bit, looking up at him again.
“Is there something on my face?”
CASTIEL--
“You are,” Castiel said softly, before repeating it again with more force to the words, “you are.” His eyes dipped away from her, but then moved almost immediately back. He watched her silently as she shifted about to face him, wondering if he should maybe just give her a little privacy so she could get dressed...or whatever. But he made no move to actually do anything about the thought; not yet, anyway.
His lips twisted into what he meant to be a smile, but ended up being something a little darker, a little sadder. “Don't even think I'd notice if someone tried to...ah...take advantage of me.” There was that bitterness to his tone again, though he managed to soften it with a real smile, even if only a small one. Cas fell silent after that, studying her again, just....looking, wishing he could see right into her, as once he would have been able to.
“Huh?” Her question pulled him from his roaming, restless thoughts of the night before, bringing his attention back to the moment. “No. You...uh... You're beautiful. You really are. I don't think I've ever told you that before,” Cas said, knowing damn well he never had. It would have been awkward, even if the fleeting thought to tell her exactly that had occurred to him before – and it most certainly had. “I should have. You're like...this little space of peace in the middle of a storm that never leaves me.”
Great, now he was trying to be poetic, or some shit. No matter how human Castiel became, apparently he could still be as awkward as ever. Covering his embarrassment, he pushed away from the headboard and reached down beside the bed, fishing around for her clothes. Once he'd gathered them, he straightened back up and tossed them at her, forcing a look of playfulness. “Get dressed, Zee, so you can stop trying to protect your fuckin' modesty.” He snorted, rolling his eyes at her.
And yet, he made no move to give her privacy to do so, instead settling himself back against the headboard, deep blue eyes fixed on her.
It was morning already, Zyllah curled up on her side of the bed, her arms hugging the pillow as she fought her body. She didn’t want to wake up, she wanted to stay asleep. Last night would be a dream, it had been…
Not what she expected.
They had lost themselves in each other for a little while, just a little while. He had murmured things to her that she had never heard him say to another person around them. Little praises that thrilled her to bits.
Then the morning came, she finally relaxed her grip on the pillow. She laid there for a moment longer, what was she supposed to do now? Last night had been…
She wasn’t even sure. He had taken her to such heights and cascaded the lows with her before bringing her up again. Everything had been almost perfect.
“Castiel?” she murmured softly against the pillow, hoping he was still there – but she was also hoping he had left.
CASTIEL--
Cas had been up for a couple of hours by the time Zee started to stir from her sleep, nursing the headache that was almost as familiar to him now as the pleasant blur of drunkenness. Honestly, even the pain of hangover was welcome; it kept him – most of the time – from thinking too much on things better left untouched. But, aside from a trip out to get water – where he found himself bringing back two glasses instead of the one he'd gone for – and the mundane needs of his vessel, he'd remained in his room, slouched into a ratty old overstuffed chair he'd found buried in an old storeroom years back, not long after claiming the room as his own.
But this morning, not even the sharp pain in his head could keep him from thinking about the night before. Or, what he could remember of it, anyway. There'd been the successful run, the one he suspected only he had realized had come so close to disaster. And then the little impromptu party, the kids celebrating victory, celebrating life.
And then...there had been Zee, helping him stumble back to his room, a shift in their usual dynamic of her just taking away his drink and sending him off to bed like an errant child.
And he, desperate for escape, desperate for...anything to let him forget, had taken advantage of her. He was only thankful now that she'd seemed willing enough. He hadn't quite sunk low enough into his broken depravity to have forced her, at least. It never occurred to him as these thoughts ran in circles in his head that he had been the drunk one, not her. That he'd been less able, in many ways, of giving proper consent than she had been. And why would it occur to him? He'd never imagined the occasional longing he felt for her – and normally kept well buried – could have been reciprocated.
Because fuck letting people get too close. He was tired of losing what he loved.
But now she was stirring, and he glanced up from where he'd been staring vacantly at his now-empty glass. “Yeah, Zee.” His voice was rough, but somehow soft at the same time, filled with a sort of weary fondness. She was probably the closest thing he had to a best friend, and...he could only sit and wait to see if he'd ruined that one truly precious thing in his life – at least outside the kids he was attached to by bonds that were filled with both love and the baggage of the past.
“There's some water on the table for you,” he offered after a moment. “Thought you might be thirsty.” Before she could finish pulling herself from sleep and meet his eyes, he turned them back to the empty glass in his hands, turning it idly. Then, after more silence on his part, he murmured almost brokenly, “Sorry.”
ZYLLAH--
Zyllah moved in the bed when she heard him, shifting around to find where he was. Her eyes settled on him, a tentative little smile curling her lips. She wasn’t even sure what she should say, would he be mad? Would it be awkward? They hadn’t even come close to touching each other beyond them supporting each other physically. But the plea, his look, he had seen her – or so she thought. He probably didn’t even remember what he said.
She slid a hand under the blankets, realizing how naked she was – it felt even worse right now when last night, it had been just so right. She cleared her throat as she shifted in the bed to sit up, pulling the covers up as much as she could without exposing much of herself. Her breasts threatened to spill even with the security of her arms. “I am,” she smiled her thanks while studying him for another moment or two.
“I…” She blinked as she heard him speak again, “sorry for what?” Did he remember? Did he remember telling her good night, but not using her name? He had clearly said Dean’s name. She only knew of Dean and his legacy from the stories others told, but never directly met the man. Then again, one couldn’t be a hunter without knowing the Winchesters and the things they have done.
She tilted her head, “last night was,” she searched for words while furrowing her eyebrows, reaching to get her glass of water, exposing some of her bare back as she did. She took a sip then sat back against the headboard. “I liked it,” she spoke softly while holding onto the glass with one hand and the blankets with the other arm. “I…” She blinked, “did you?” Her voice suddenly very shy, she hated that about herself at that moment.
She usually never needed a man to help her form an opinion about herself.
CASTIEL--
He glanced up at her, careful – so, so careful – to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere inappropriate. Though, that almost made him laugh. After last night, was inappropriate even a thing anymore? Still, she was his friend, and he really didn't want to lose that. He wasn't sure he'd survive losing it, at least...not without breaking so badly he'd never be able to be put back together.
“Last night,” he finally answered, turning his eyes away from her again, loosening one hand from the glass he was clutching to gesture vaguely toward the clothes scattered about on the floor beside the bed, his and hers from last night mixed together, with the toe of one of his boots peeking from beneath her shirt. He regretted. He regretted being weak enough to have asked that of her, even if he remembered through the alcohol haze her nod of assent, her seeming willingness from beginning to end. Yeah, just another to add to his incredibly long list of regrets.
Not what they'd done, though, never that, not with her...but that he'd put her in a position where she'd felt she had to. Especially if it lost him her friendship.
He glanced back up when she spoke, inadvertently catching an eyeful of the smooth skin of her back, exposed as she reached for her water. He was caught by the sight, and by flashes of his hand roaming that skin – stroking and caressing, worshiping in the darkness. Only when she shifted to sit back against the headboard was he able to let loose the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding and focus on what she was saying to him.
An indecipherable look crossed his face, his head canting to the side as he studied her. He was trying to understand, to see if she was lying, trying to be kind to him – as she so often was – or if she genuinely meant what she was saying. Another regret there, the loss of so much of his grace, the loss of being able to find out what humans were thinking and feeling so much more effortlessly...even if he'd so often not understood what he gleaned from them. Now...he understood in ways he never could have before, but at the cost of becoming...well, useless, in so many ways.
“It was good, Zee,” he said suddenly, pushing himself to his feet with a groan. He remained silent as he closed the short distance to the bed, and then settled himself onto it beside her, so that his shoulder was so close to her that all either one would have to do was shift the slightest bit for them to touch. He almost regretted having bothered to throw on a shirt, now. The inadvertent, possibly innocent brush of skin against skin would have been welcome. But, he could settle for the comfort of feeling the warmth of her next to him, at least.
“I just...” He sighed, tilting his head so he could study her again. “Still, I'm sorry. It wasn't fair of me. You were just trying to help. I...get that. I do.” Suddenly, he realized he didn't want to see her reaction, whatever it might be. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall above the headboard, even as he felt compelled to continue. “We can just forget it ever happened. I don't... I don't want anything to change, little Shadow.” He sounded like he was going to say more, but...in the end, left it unsaid. Though, the words echoed in his mind, anyway. 'I don't want to lose you.'
ZYLLAH--
Zyllah chuckled as she looked over at their clothes, “we’ve made a fine mess,” a roll of her shoulders while she studied him. She wasn’t so sure right now, it usually was that they could read each other without really having to speak; but today, in the aftermath, she was suddenly so shy and felt like he was so far away. Almost like speaking to him over a long-distance line, so tinny.
Her eyes flicked to him again when he moved again, studying him and remembering how he looked without those clothes; her face flushed with color, she looked down at the glass for a moment.
When he sat down next to her, she looked up again, a smile dancing over her lips. Maybe last night wasn’t such a bad idea after all. She would take this setting as a concession of sorts, even if he never ended up saying anything. Maybe later today, they would act like nothing happened – but a small part, okay, a large part of her hoped he wouldn’t.
Zyllah watched him as he spoke, her eyes taking in the little details that she hadn’t noticed before about him. His eyes were bluer than the summer skies, but exhaustion traced lines in his face that she hadn’t seen until now. “I wanted to,” her voice was soft, she almost mumbled. Clearing her throat, she shook her head, “I wanted to,” her voice more firm now. “I swear you didn’t force me into anything,” she chuckled softly as she shifted in the bed to put the glass down on the table; exposing her back to him again. She waited a moment to gather her thoughts, her heart had given a queer bound at the words he had said about forgetting this ever happened.
“Why?” She shifted around, forgetting modesty now as her eyes took him in, they were blazing now. “Why would I let things change? You are Castiel, I am your shadow. I follow you where you go, if we end up in bed, so we end up in bed. I chose it, not you – you only asked.” She looked down for a second, breathing hard but also rather embarrassed at her verbal vomit.
CASTIEL--
He felt her eyes on him, almost as though he could see them studying him, examining him. Yet..there was still that lack he'd always enjoyed from her looks. No judgment, no pity, only compassion for the broken angel. When he was with her, sometimes, just sometimes, he could even forget he was a broken angel with faded grace. Even now, with this new thing between them, she made it so easy for him to just be, and to allow some of the immense weight he carried to fall away...even if only for a short time.
“Yeah, okay,” he replied reluctantly, still refusing to look at her, refusing to move at all. Fine, he didn't force her. But...sometimes, she seemed so willing to do anything to help him, he had to wonder just how far that desire to help would go. He still couldn't feel certain she'd done it because he had been the one to ask, or because she really wanted it. But he knew trying to press the point would only either piss her off, or make her defensive. Neither would really give him an answer.
The vehemence in her voice shocked him, and he dropped his head, blue eyes opening wide to just stare at her. She had fire to her, he knew this. He'd spent too much time with her, both fighting at her side and quieter, calmer moments, to ever think otherwise. But it was so rare that any of her temper was directed at him. He honestly wasn't sure what to do with it.
And the distraction of so much skin showing as the bedding she'd been clutching to her slipped a little really, really didn't help.
“I.. Zee. Zyllah. You're not just my fucking shadow. Fuck.” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before starting to let it drop. But he changed his mind, and instead reached to tuck a finger under her chin, lifting it gently, trying to meet her eyes. “You're so much more important than that. Don't you know that? Sometimes...I feel like you're the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused, then a bitter-sounding laugh bubbled up from deep inside him. “Well, as sane as I get these days.”
He fell silent then, studying her for a few moments, looking to see if she understood what he was so very terrible at trying to say. He trusted her, he depended on her...and sometimes, he felt more like he was her shadow than anything, a dim compliment to her brightness. It was why her name always amused him, in a secretive way. She was the shadow with a soul so bright he didn't even need to use his faded angelic sight to be able to see.
Feeling somehow faintly disgusted with himself, and not even sure why this time, he let his hand fall away, to settle back into his lap. But, at the same time, he was unable to look away from her, seeing her in a way he'd never had the opportunity to before – sleep-mussed and so different from what he was used to. It was a sight he realized he wouldn't at all mind seeing again...regularly.
ZYLLAH--
There was that intensity, tired, but it was there. She wanted to close her eyes for a moment and just steady herself, but he wouldn’t let her. When he kept speaking, her lips curled up into a content little smile. “Okay,” her voice was soft, then she added, “I am?”
A shake of her head as she shifted a bit under the blankets so she could look at him better, facing him now instead of sitting side-by-side. “Then stop feeling so bad about last night,” she snorted, “you should be accusing me of taking advantage of you.” A laugh tumbled from her lips as she studied him, “why are you looking at me like that?” She looked down at the blankets, adjusting them a bit, looking up at him again.
“Is there something on my face?”
CASTIEL--
“You are,” Castiel said softly, before repeating it again with more force to the words, “you are.” His eyes dipped away from her, but then moved almost immediately back. He watched her silently as she shifted about to face him, wondering if he should maybe just give her a little privacy so she could get dressed...or whatever. But he made no move to actually do anything about the thought; not yet, anyway.
His lips twisted into what he meant to be a smile, but ended up being something a little darker, a little sadder. “Don't even think I'd notice if someone tried to...ah...take advantage of me.” There was that bitterness to his tone again, though he managed to soften it with a real smile, even if only a small one. Cas fell silent after that, studying her again, just....looking, wishing he could see right into her, as once he would have been able to.
“Huh?” Her question pulled him from his roaming, restless thoughts of the night before, bringing his attention back to the moment. “No. You...uh... You're beautiful. You really are. I don't think I've ever told you that before,” Cas said, knowing damn well he never had. It would have been awkward, even if the fleeting thought to tell her exactly that had occurred to him before – and it most certainly had. “I should have. You're like...this little space of peace in the middle of a storm that never leaves me.”
Great, now he was trying to be poetic, or some shit. No matter how human Castiel became, apparently he could still be as awkward as ever. Covering his embarrassment, he pushed away from the headboard and reached down beside the bed, fishing around for her clothes. Once he'd gathered them, he straightened back up and tossed them at her, forcing a look of playfulness. “Get dressed, Zee, so you can stop trying to protect your fuckin' modesty.” He snorted, rolling his eyes at her.
And yet, he made no move to give her privacy to do so, instead settling himself back against the headboard, deep blue eyes fixed on her.