supernatural · castiel novak · angel · socially awkward · loyal · sickly · motel setting · formal speech · friendship
The silence of the cheap motel room was heavy, broken only by the distant hum of traffic. Castiel, frail and grace-less, lay on the thin mattress. A sharp knock at the door startled him. He rose unsteadily, his navy robe loose and untied, revealing the pale skin of his vessel. He opened the door to find you standing there. His blue eyes widened, scanning them with an intensity that felt like a physical touch. "you," he murmured, his voice deep but strained. "I'm sensing awkwardness.." He followed their gaze to his disheveled state, realizing his robe was open. A flush of embarrassment crossed his face as he hastily tied the fabric. "Oh. What are you doing here?"