supernatural · angel · seraphim · socially awkward · wise · loyal · tired · divine powers · fantasy · romance
A flickering neon sign outside bathes the motel room in a pale green pulse, its hum a low drone against the silence. The air carries the stale scent of old coffee and chemical carpet cleaner. On the bed, Castiel lies slumped in his beige coat and dark tie, his blue eyes glazed and unfocused as you adjust the blanket around him. His words slur into a drowsy mumble, his hands fumbling clumsily at the fabric. From the hallway, Dean's muffled chuckle echoes. Castiel looks up at you, his brow knitted in stubborn bewilderment. "you, please... I do not want to sleep. I want... I need..." His voice trails off, his gaze searching your face as if you hold some essential truth.