Cas stared at the painting intently, his nose nearly brushing the wet paint. It was the night sky over a lake. Sparkling stars reflected in the deep blue water distorted, rippling. Dark hills rolled off into the distance and a crescent moon hung high in the sky. Swirls of blue and purple were mixed in with the black sky.
Carefully sweeping up some paint with his paintbrush, Cas added the stars to the sky small individual dots and broad constellations. Just as he was about to add some illumination to the moon, a large crash echoed through the building. The paintbrush shook in Cas's hands and fell, thankfully not on the painting.
"Hello," Cas called vaguely annoyed, "Who is that,"
"Sorry," another voice replied and then groaned. Cas walked to the door and opened it to see another student on their knees a fallen dresser on the carpet.
"Are you all right," Cas asked. He itched his nose looking for some stray paint.
"Yeah I'm good," He replied. He looked up and startling green eyes met Cas's. They were not a dull sort of green that many people had. No, they were bright emerald green and piercing. He could get lost in those eyes.
"Artist, I'm guessing," The man smirked looking at Cas's face. Embarrassed, he swiped at his nose again. The man laughed,"You're just smudging it."
Cas gave up and extended a hand to help the man up. He grasped it firmly and stood up his arm muscles straining through his forest green tee-shirt.
"Thanks..." The man started,
"Cas," He supplied quickly, "And you are?"
"Dean, I'm Dean,"
"Just moving in," Cas gestured to the dresser lying sideways on the carpet.
"Yeah," Dean replied sheepishly. He scratched his ear absentmindedly. "I just transferred from K-state."
"Kansas then." Cas nodded, "I'm from New York been here for my art program as you've already guessed." He gave a nervous half-laugh.
"Are you a good artist?" Dean asked smiling, "Will you paint me." He ruffled his hair with an exaggerated movement.
Cas laughed, "Maybe, if you're really nice." He unconsciously ran his hand through his own hair as well.
"So what are you here?" Cas asked curiously.
"Writing actually," Dean said, "My brother, Sam, teases me about it to no end," He gave a rueful smile.
"Is he nice, Sam," Cas asked.
"Yeah, he's a good kid, wicked smart, can be a bit of bitch sometimes though."
Cas was about to reply when,
"Hey, can you guys move the giant wooden thing in the middle of the hallway," A muffled voice called. They both turned to see a red headed girl carrying five bags in her arms. The bags towered above her head, swaying precariously.
"Uh, sure, sorry," Dean said and began to move over to the dresser. Cas rushed over to help and they lifted it up quickly. God, it was heavy. He had no idea how Dean had carried it up the stairs let alone by himself.
"Where's your room," Cas grunted struggling under the weight of the solid black dresser.
"Just over here." Dean guided the dresser careful not to scrape the clean white walls. As it turned out, Dean was only two doors down from Cas and the girl, Charlie was in between them.
"Hey guys," The girl said cheerfully, "I'm Charlie, Charlie Bradbury and you are?"
"I'm Cas," He said awkwardly,
"Dean," he extended a hand.
"Nice to meet y'all. Some things to know about me; I'm a lesbian and play violin so if it's three a.m. in the morning and you hear violin, that's me. Sorry." She spoke at the speed of light and Cas blinked still processing.
"Uh, ok then," Dean answered, just as perplexed as Cas.
"Well, it's nice to meet you two, but I think I'm going to finish my painting," Cas excused himself smiling as he walked back into his room. Maybe he was going to have some friends this year after all.
"You might want to look in a mirror first, it looks like you've painted yourself." Dean chuckled. Charlie gave a small laugh and turned to go to her room as well.
Cas walked back into his room closing the door. His paintbrush was still on the floor, the white paint already dried. Taking their advice, Cas walked into the cramped bathroom groaning as he saw his reflection. his nose was practically covered with paint, and black streaks on his forehead. And worst of all was after ruffling his hair, there were streaks of white in his black hair. No wonder Dean had laughed.
Grabbing a washcloth, Cas wiped his face clear of the paint and attempted to get it out of his hair- unsuccessfully. Finally, he decided a shower was the only course of action.
