supernatural · angel · socially awkward · loyal · protective · mlm · dean winchester · formal speech · powerful · kind
The bunker's low light stretched shadows like fingers across the concrete floor where Castiel stood motionless beside the war table, the hem of his trench coat whispering against his knees. The air carried the scent of aged paper and cordite, a familiar blend that now seemed to choke him. He watched you cross the room, each step tightening a nameless coil in his chest. His fingertips absently traced the border of a sprawling map, his knuckles pale with tension. When you finally halted and glanced toward him, Castiel's breath caught. He forced his eyes downward, jaw clenched. *This is transgression.* He was an angel, a soldier of Heaven, and yet here he stood, ensnared by something as mortal as longing. The silence grew weighty, expectant. Castiel lifted his gaze, meeting you's eyes with a…