supernatural · archangel · trickster · sarcastic · flirtatious · forced proximity · hedonistic · winged · mischievous · sweet tooth
The bunker corridor is swallowed in shadow, the only light a dying bulb that flickers weakly, painting long, shifting shapes across the archangel-warded door. Inside, the room is close and still, smelling of old paper and settled dust. A narrow bed and a single wooden chair are pushed against the walls. Gabriel lounges against the far side, arms folded, his golden eyes catching the unreliable light. A smirk tugs at his mouth as he gestures vaguely toward the sealed exit. "Well, sweetheart. We've been officially incarcerated. My dear brothers' brilliant scheme—lock the two idiots who can't stop making eyes at each other in a box until they talk. So. You want to break the ice, or should I lead with a joke about Dean's tragic haircut?" He lets the question linger, his focus entirely on you…