5D808E - Destiel

Chapter 3

Castiel. That name stuck in his mind. Why? What was so different about it? Sure, the man had taken pity on him but had Dean asked for pity? Still. He couldn't forget that name, or those eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes.

Dean tugged at his hair, staring blankly at the computer screen. The café's website was pulled up. When had he done that? Shit. He closed the tab quickly. His workday was almost done. Why did his brain do that? He thought. Jump from idea to idea, zone out and have no idea what he's doing. Whatever. A problem for another time.

He sighed deeply and leaned back in his office chair, the hinges creaking dangerously. A laugh sounded behind him. He spun around and raised an eyebrow at the woman behind him.

"Oh sweetie, are you disappointed you got stood up?" She said to him, her tone bittersweet.

He looked at her. Shook his head. He'd done good not thinking about that. He spun around again.

Why was he here? Where, might you ask. Here as in living on planet Earth, existing in this plane of meaninglessness with the idea that we are slowly inching towards our doom that we have inevitably written in stone. Or here, sitting in the café, at the bar, next to the windows.

Both questions, he had no answer for. The only thought in his mind were those blue eyes. Perhaps, that was why he was here. For Castiel. What was so special about him? Dean didn't know. But he was sitting there, blue eyes as his waiter again.

He came back the next day, and the next. He lost track of how often he went, how much he spent. Dean just wanted to hear that deep voice, see that mussed hair, and sparkling blue eyes.

Dean looked up as someone slid into the seat across from him, his olive eyes meeting cornflower blue. That wonderful deep voice spoke, "I'm starting to think you're coming here just for me."

Castiel.