Always Cas | ✔

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE; part two

     My alarm goes off at six and my phone is not near me but on Cas's side. Cas hasn't budged and he's lying on my arm, which has gone numb and he looks peaceful so I don't want to wake him, but the alarm won't stop and my arm is getting all tingly.

     "What in god's name is that?" he croaks after maybe the third round on the alarm. "And why won't it stop."

     "My alarm," I say. "It's on your side."

     Cas doesn't open his eyes but he rolls over and reaches out towards the sound, knocking my phone onto the floor. He groans. "This is hell. I'm in hell." I watch, amused, as he tips over the edge of the bed and finally silences the alarm.

     "Six a.m., Dres? Seriously? Do you want me to smother you?"

     "I have to take the turkeys out of the oven."

     "And then we go back to bed?"

     "And then I go to Weston's to finish cooking."

     "These are not nice words."

     "You can stay," I say. "You don't have to come with me, you know."

     "Really? No, I couldn't — okay, if you insist." Cas rolls back over, and I think he's out already. Just like that. I've always been jealous of the ease with which he can go to sleep.

      I get up, pulling out some sweatpants and a hoodie from my dresser before I go downstairs, taking the turkey's out. They're a perfect golden brown, smelling fragrant. The whole house smells like holiday. I feel good. I feel hopeful. That may just be the remnants of the endorphins from last night, though.

     I put on my sneakers and then harness Delta and Charlie before taking them on a walk that quickly turns into a run. It's warm outside, the perfect weather for snow, but it's sunny out so I don't think we're going to get any. When I get back, I feed the dogs and then head upstairs to shower. Cas is sprawled across my bed like a starfish. I want to get back into bed with him. I want to stay there forever. But that's not realistic.

     I shower and then change into black trousers and faintly-striped white button-up. I cuff my pants and put on some dress shoes. I leave a post-it for Cas on his phone.

     There's nothing I really need to say but I like the idea of him waking in my bed without me but a note waiting for him. Maybe that's the kind of boyfriend I would've been if we'd ever gotten there, to him living with me. I'd leave early, have breakfast cooked and waiting for him downstairs, and a note that would say, Be safe or Have a good day at work or Can't wait to see you tonight.

     But I write, Don't burn my house down and then I leave.

     Cooking has always been good stress relief. And in the quiet morning, playing my favorite songs, I'm able to distance myself from last night even though I can still feel Cas exactly where he's been.

     Amelia, Dolores, and Charles show up at eleven and start helping me set up. By then everything has been cooked and now it's a matter of moving furniture and getting the food out.

     I shift enough tables together to make one long one. I dress it in an ivory linen table cloth and then set out plates. Dolores bought over her good china, because according to Amelia, my rustic dishes from Weston's After Hours wouldn't match the table setting. Dolores's china is ancient, these heavy dishes that come in a set with a large plate and smaller ones and a bowl for salad or soup, maybe. And then the cutlery is gold. Actually gold, like this is medieval times.