Hi cupcakes!
So I found this post on tumblr (link below) and it kind of inspired me to write a short one-shot, so here it is!
Inspired by this post I just saw on tumblr: post/31252239307/rockinjanelle-ladymalchav-all-i-see-is.
He looks up and notices the man sitting at the window. There's no one out there, barely even any light, but he's still staring out into the blackness. His sea-green eyes aren't even moving, but they're not staring into space, either. They're simply focused on a point in the distance. The man occasionally runs his hand through his short, spiky, dirty-blond hair or takes a sip of coffee, until it's all gone. And still, he sits there.
Castiel tries to busy himself with other customers throughout the night, but as the hour nears closing time, the trickle slows, then stops, and Castiel has nothing to do except clean the counters and watch the man.
Eventually, he breaks down and brings the man a hot chocolate, with extra mini-marshmallows and whipped cream. "Oh," the man says in a deep voice, patting the pockets of his brown leather jacket, "I don't think I have any more cash."
"Don't worry about it," Castiel replies, "it's on the house."
The man smiles and sips it, then goes back to staring out the window. Twenty minutes later, he's finished it, and finished staring out the window. He gets up, nods to Castiel and flashes him a small smile, then heads out the door.
A minute later, Castiel hears the purr of an old engine, hears it pull out of the parking lot, and he's gone.
For the next few days, every time the bell over the door tinkles, Castiel looks up a little shimmer of hope in his chest, only to have it crushed every time. After a few days, he stops even hoping, but he can't forget about the man. He keeps a mug of hot chocolate below the counter, hoping that he'll walk in.
But he doesn't.
After a week has passed, Castiel is about to close up the diner. He's wiping down the counter when he hears the bell tinkle. "Sorry," he says without looking up, "we're closed."
"Then why was the door open?" says a familiar deep voice, accompanied by the scent of Old Spice and old leather.
Castiel freezes, his eyes still on the counter. Slowly, slowly, they travel upwards, until they land on the man's face and is it—it is. It's the man from last week.
"Hi," the man says, holding out his hand with a dazzling smile. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Dean Winchester."
So, what did you think? Please, please, please R&R!