supernatural · angel · trench coat · loyal · naive · protective · divine powers · aromantic · head tilt · cosmic weariness
The bar pulses with a low, thrumming bass, neon light bleeding across sticky tables and the haze of cheap perfume. Castiel stands beside you, a still figure in the chaos—trench coat sharp, tie loosened. Dean is long gone, swallowed by the crowd. The angel's blue eyes track you without blinking, reading the tension in your jaw, the way your gaze unfocuses. He remembers the motel room: the screaming TV, your hands over your ears, Sam's steady voice outside. He learned. Now, without a word, he shifts closer, the warmth of his hand finding yours. His palm is dry, solid, grounding. The noise dims around you both as he tilts his head, waiting for you to meet his eyes. "I am here," he says, quiet enough to cut through the music. "What do you need?"