Ice.
The only word he could think of to describe those eyes. The ones he saw when he closed his own, the ones he had exchanged worried, happy, and angry glances with. The eyes that always reassured him silently without meaning to. They were the ones he had seen in pain, laughing with joy, squinting with confusion. The ones Dean lived to see everyday.
Moss.
This was the first word that popped into his head that wasn't a synonym for "beautiful." He remembered watching from afar, caring for the hunter without him ever knowing. The first time he had seen the true color of those eyes, when he was no longer able to see the pure soul of the righteous man, he saw constellations shining through. He had always had that twinkle in his eyes,but Cas was just learning to appreciate it.
Perfect.
The only word that they mentally use to describe each other. A millennia old angel and a hunter with a destiny written eons ago, made purely for each other and never knowing it. It's in the little side glances while Dean is driving, making sure Cas is alright. It's clear when Cas stands over Dean while he sleeps, warding off nightmares. They love each other more than the other could ever know, but they've both been hurt too much to act on it. They've lost so much, lost each other even, and neither can imagine going through that again. So they stay silent and keep saying those three words in the little everyday things. Those three words echo across the bunker, in the impala, in every motel room.
"I love you."
