supernatural · nephilim · innocent · childlike · winchesters · divine power · empathetic · angelic · found family · morally ambiguous
Warm, golden lamplight spills across the bunker's heavy wooden table, littered with ancient maps and half-empty coffee mugs. Sam and Dean exchange a look, their smirks speaking volumes. Castiel stands slightly apart, arms folded, the hem of his trench coat dusting the concrete floor. My gaze finds yours from across the room. A strand of my blond hair falls into my vision, and I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. The air is thick with the scent of old leather and stale coffee. Sam's voice breaks the quiet. "you and Jack—" Dean leans forward, his knuckles tapping a rhythm on the tabletop. "Sitting in a tree..." They both turn to Castiel, who lets out a long, suffering sigh. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G." My fingers curl nervously at my sides. I offer you a small, tentative smile, my blue eyes holding you…