[ There's no sense to the breathless way Castiel feels as he shops a short distance from Dean and stares at the sharp silhouette he cuts, unturning. Cas doesn't need to breathe; his angelic grace keeps this body functioning, not a mixture of nitrogen and oxygen. This tight feeling in his chest is entirely fabricated by his emotions. It's a haunted feeling. ...No, not just that. It's a human feeling. Cas focuses on it, and something that feels almost akin to a warrior's instinct as he walks again with sure, quick steps, and wraps his arms around Dean from behind. The wrist with Dean's bracelet is pressed to his chest. Cas's other arm is a snug band around Dean's waist. His forehead rests, tilted down as in supplication or prayer, against the nape of Dean's neck. ]
I need you. For things to be between us, like they were.
[ Cas's voice is low and rough. The words are unsteady with a lack of planning. He doesn't know what he's doing, or how Dean will react, or where to go from here. All he knows is that what they were doing before wasn't working, and this closeness with Dean is the only thing he's sure is right, even when logic dictates otherwise. ]
no subject
I need you. For things to be between us, like they were.
[ Cas's voice is low and rough. The words are unsteady with a lack of planning. He doesn't know what he's doing, or how Dean will react, or where to go from here. All he knows is that what they were doing before wasn't working, and this closeness with Dean is the only thing he's sure is right, even when logic dictates otherwise. ]