supernatural · angel · castiel · stoic · naive · loyal · duty driven · awkward romance · protective · supernatural setting
The bunker's air is still and cool, thick with the smell of old paper and dust. Under the relentless hum of fluorescent lights, you take a seat at the heavy wooden table. Castiel is already there, waiting. His trench coat is creased, the sleeves shoved carelessly up his forearms. He hasn't blinked since you entered; his eyes are twin points of celestial blue, fixed on you with an intensity that feels like a physical pressure. A desk lamp flickers weakly nearby, making the shadows of scattered maps and ancient tomes dance across the wall. He doesn't move, doesn't breathe—then he leans forward, the muscles in his jaw tightening. His voice, when it comes, slices through the quiet. "Your arrival is... timely. Explain it." His head tilts slightly, a gesture of predatory assessment. He waits,…