𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀 ↝ 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘭

4.3 | f i f t e e n .

A bell chimes as Castiel holds open the door to the small diner for Makayla as she hesitantly slips in past the trench–coated man, her eyes scanning the booths of patrons for anyone that seemed particularly angelic.

"So, what exactly are we doing here?"

The woman paused in the threshold of the small establishment, the smell of stale coffee and maple syrup permeating the air.  She took in the sight of several couples talking over plates of steaming eggs and toast, waitresses milling around, conversing with the customers, and a handful of businessmen drinking mugs of black coffee with newspapers in hand.

"I mean, if we're supposed to be meeting some hotshot friend of yours, don't you Angels have, like, a heavenly conference room, or something?"
She quirked a brow, turning to face the Angel slightly as he came to stand beside her.
"Why here?"

"Oh, come on, Makayla,"
a voice crooned from near the breakfast bar, and the girl turned around to face an older man, donned in a black suit and beige tie, thinning gray hair disappearing into an intense face filled with worry lines and a scowl.
"you learn you're a Solpetha and suddenly a typical Winchester venue isn't up to par anymore?"

He took a tentative sip of coffee, eyes still on the newspaper in his hands.  He had yet to lift his gaze to look at the couple, but the moment Makayla had shifted her focus to the man who had spoken, a shockwave traveled up her spine and dispersed into the back of her neck.  This man radiated a certain air of importance, and she suddenly felt a sort of uneasiness settle into the pit of her stomach, unconsciously shifting her body slightly closer to Castiel.

"Yeah, well, I just figured greasy diner food didn't quite fit the sophisticated palette of..."
she glanced at several of the diners who eyed her with interest, as the conversation from across the restaurant had drawn their attention.  Makayla cleared her throat.
"...of...individuals, such as yourself."

Castiel lowered his head towards her, eyebrows furrowed just slightly.  His voice was low, but not low enough to avoid being detected by those eavesdropping around them.
"Makayla, Angels don't require sustenance in the way that humans do—"

To her surprise, however, the other Angel at the counter began to chuckle, rather loudly, as to draw attention away from Castiel's particularly conspicuous statement.

"Ah, now there is that Winchester sense of humor I have heard so much about."

The man finally turned to look at her, gesturing with a jerk of his head for her to join him at the stool adjacent to him.

As the other patrons began to turn their attention back to their own conversations, Makayla glanced at Castiel with a smirk before making her way over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had been designated for her.

"Wow, an Angel with a sense of humor.  Aren't you charming."

"No, actually, he's Zachariah."
Castiel explained, taking the seat beside Makayla.