𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀 ↝ 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘭

4.3 | f o u r t e e n .

THE PHONE CONTINUED to ring, and the girl sat on the lid of the toilet with it pressed to her ear,  impatiently awaiting the voice on the other end of the line.  She chewed at the corner of the nail on her left ring finger anxiously.

Ring...Ring...Ring...

This is Sam Winchester's voicemail.  You know what to do.

BEEP—

Makayla aggressively pressed the red END CALL button and slammed her phone down on the bathroom counter, causing a rope of pain to wrap down from her shoulder to her arm.  She grimaced, grinding her teeth, before running a tired hand down the length of her face.  Finally standing, she slipped the cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans, pulled her damp hair back into a loose ponytail, and opened the door.

Castiel was still standing at the end of Dean's empty bed, looking like a lost puppy as his eyes wandered the barren walls in search of something to focus his attention.  When he heard the bathroom door open, his eyes met Makayla's for a moment before they abashedly dropped to the floor.

The girl in question paused in the doorframe, her mind flashing back to her previous encounter with the Angel, and she too felt heat rising to her cheeks.  However, she was much more familiar with this sting of embarrassment, so she regained her composure much more quickly.

"You do realize you could, like— oh, I don't know— sit down, or something."
She followed her own cue and sat at the edge of what was supposed to be Sam's bed and grabbed her hiking boots.  She shoved her left foot into the corresponding shoe and began lacing it up, gently favoring her right side.

Castiel paused for a moment.
"Yes...  I suppose I could."

His blue eyes scanned the room for an appropriate place to seat himself.  It wasn't often he was required to sit in his vessel— his time on Earth was spent completing tasks and kept him constantly busy, rarely giving him time for pause, let along relaxation.

Finally, his eyes settled on Makayla, who was struggling to get her right heel completely into her well–worn pair of Timbs.

At a loss of what to do, he walked a few steps over to Makayla and sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, keeping his dress shoes flat on the floor and resting his palms on his thighs awkwardly.

Makayla glanced back at him from her hunched position, quirking a brow, but he avoided her gaze.

"Fuckin' Angel,"
She muttered, before successfully slipping her foot into its vessel.  The sudden jerking movement caused another burst of pain to blossom from her shoulder and she hissed, scrunching up her face.  As much as she tried to minimize her reaction, Castiel's close proximity to her made it almost impossible for him to ignore it.

"Are you alright?"
He asked, and she was surprised to hear genuine concern laced in his voice.  It wasn't often his words sounded... human.

She finished lacing up her shoe before sitting up straight, sending a sideways glance at her angel, whose piercing blue eyes were already studying her with alarm.  Her pain was harder to pinpoint for him since she refused to make eye contact with him or let him inside of her head.