He was always Cas. Everyone else called him by his real name, but to me, he was Cas. Always rolling from one place to the next, laughing with his thick Irish accent. He always knew what to say to make me laugh. But that was a long time ago. I miss him.
YOU ARE READING
Loss, Lost, Loser; Book One: Dear Cas
General FictionA trillogy to the nameless faces of the crowd
