"Really, Castiel? You're smoking in class?" I covered my nose as I stared at him ridiculously.
He gave me a mocking smirk, but I'm already used to it. He's alone, the stick of death between his red lips, while his eyes were dark and gloomy. He looked like a canvas painted in grief.
We became classmates in the same prestigious school, too, and I don't know how to feel about that. But above all, I'm grateful I had the opportunity to become a scholar. Castiel's family saw my potential so they gave me this opportunity.
"You want some cig, babe? I'll put it in your mouth and teach you how to use it," he said in his deep voice, smirking wickedly at me.
I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him. He's only a waste of time. There are other things that matter more than his presence.
I left the room, leaving him damaged and hanging. His love changed him, but I still see him as the same as before.
You're really pathetic, Castiel.
YOU ARE READING
Cast a Spell, Castiel
Short StoryIn which Castiel meets the daughter of the housemaid who's been working under his family for years and attempts to cast his spell upon her with his charms.
