Supernatural Imagines

Blue Eyes and Ivory Keys- Castiel x Reader

So basically, Cas was never an angel in this. The reader is older now, and Cas has passed away. She's remembering her favourite things about him. Just so you don't get confused.

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You sat on the porch in an old wooden rocking chair and looked out across your large yard. The sun was beginning to set, casting beautiful orange and red halos across everything. A light breeze swept through your hair as you drank from your coffee mug. This was your favourite part of the day. 

As you relaxed, you thought of your late husband. When you'd first met, the two of you hadn't gotten along at all. But as the years went on, you grew to love each other and finally he'd asked you out. Two years after high school you were married. The two of you never had kids. 

You remembered the big occasions, such as your wedding and your 25th anniversary. On your wedding night, he had surprised you with a honeymoon in London, a place you'd wanted to visit since you were a kid. You took a plane there and stayed in a grand hotel. It was one of the best nights of your life. And then on your anniversary, you'd thrown a big party with both of your families. Everybody had been in such high spirits, the happiest you'd ever seen them. But you also remembered the small moments, your favourite being the day you'd first found him playing the piano.

You'd woken up to the sound of music coming from downstairs. When you'd turned over in the bed, he'd been missing. You grabbed your robe and headed downstairs to see where the music was coming from. He sat on the piano bench, his fingers gliding over the keys. It was just an old, secondhand piano that you'd purchased cheaply the day before because you thought it'd look good in the room. You had no idea that he could play, or even that good. You sat on the bottom step for at least a half hour, just letting the music drown out everything else, before he noticed you.

He told you about how he used to play the piano when he was younger, before his mother became too broke to pay for lessons. He then practiced on his own, but eventually the piano was sold in order to earn a little extra cash. When he finished his story, he began to play some more as you leaned against his shoulder. From that day until the day he passed, that was how you'd spend the mornings. His baby blue eyes always seemed to sparkle the most when his fingers danced across ivory, leaping from key to key.