Smoke filled the kitchen and wafted out into the hallway of the bunker. You coughed again and continued fanning the air around the oven with a towel. It was a crappy way to end a crappy day: burning dinner.
It seemed like nothing could go right for you today. You woke up with a migraine, which was always horrible, but you also woke up later than usual and because of that there was barely any hot water left for your shower. When you finally made it out of your room, you found that Dean had finished all the coffee. Not just what was in the pot either, like, ALL of the coffee. You should have taken that as a clue to go back to bed, but you soldiered on through a day that got worse and worse. A day filled with paper cuts, elbows whacking on bookshelves, an all-out sass fight with Sam, stubbed toes, a rip in your favorite jeans, and now: burning the chicken you were roasting for dinner.
Exasperated you fanned until you could see the oven again and surveyed the damaged feast.
"Well that bird ain't coming back anytime soon." Dean's voice sounded from behind you. "Did you salt it first?" he laughed.
You spun around and saw him leaning casually against the doorframe, arms folded across his plaid-covered chest. "Hey you wanna shut the hell up Winchester?" You barked, throwing the towel down on the floor and stomping past him.
"Hey, Y/N, I was just kidding. What the hell?" He stammered as you flew past him heading to your room.
"Make your own damn dinner!" You yelled throwing your hands up in disgust. You didn't want to eat anyway. You didn't want to be stuck here doing research and cooking all day. What you wanted was some Netflix and a good cry.
You changed out of your ripped jeans into your most comfy gray sweats and old high school gym t-shirt. After pulling your hair back into a messy bun you plopped down on your bed and opened up Netflix on your laptop. You scrolled through, finding nothing appealing and you growled, "Come on! Can I get a break today? Just one."
"Y/N?"
You looked up and saw an angel in a trench coat standing awkwardly in your doorway. You sighed and gave Castiel a small half-smile. "What's up Cas?"
"Dean said you had some trouble in the kitchen and were upset. Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked, tilting his head and watching you with bright blue eyes.
"Thanks, but no. I'm just having one of those days." You said, rubbing your forehead. Castiel regarded you with a questioning gaze. "A bad day, Cas. Just a real bad, off kilter day." You explained. You took a deep breathe and without meaning too, began to cry; the annoyances of the day pouring from your eyes in salty streams. Your hands came up to cover your face, trying to hide your embarrassing girliness from Castiel. Not that he'd ever see you as weak, but you felt childish for crying in front of him over something as simple as burning dinner.
"May I sit with you Y/N?" asked the angel, still watching from the doorway.
You looked up from between tear soaked lashes and nodded. The bed moved as he settled next to you, your backs both against the headboard. Castiel tentatively laid a hand on your shoulder and patted gently, his awkwardness making you chuckle. You grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around your shoulders, turning to settle against him, leaning your head on his shoulder; your hand fell against his suited chest. Castiel remained stiff but he allowed the interaction.
"Cas?"
"Yes Y/N?" he whispered.
"Relax a little will you? It's just a cuddle." You said, smiling up at him.
He smiled back. "Sorry." He said and you sunk back against him, tears drying on your cheeks. Cas brought his hand up and patted your head slowly, smoothing your hair away from your face. You sighed and closed your eyes, feeling the crappy day fade away. You sat crushed against the angel, finally calm and feeling better; Castiel held you, rubbing your shoulder softly until you drifted off to sleep.
"Tomorrow will be better," he whispered, "I promise."