It was always rather chilly by the oceanfront. It could be ninety degrees further away from the water, but as soon as you'd get close to it, it's like the temperature dropped twenty degrees.
But Castiel liked that. He liked that first initial chill he felt when sitting down on the sand, the water just reaching his toes as it rolled up into shore before receding once more. It reminded him of that day he was proposed to, right here, and this exact time.
Except when that proposal actually happened, there was a controlled little fire in a stone pit further up the shore, providing the perfect lighting.
There was no fire now. There was no light now.
The only light was that of the moon, which blue eyes gazed at almost longingly.
Before, he could almost touch it. The moon. Before, he could almost reach it, but it was just out of his reach. But then, one day, Castiel was given a lift. He was given a leg up, given the chance to really reach for that beautiful moon. That green eyed man raised him up, allowed him to finally let his fingers graze the moon's surface.
That man made Castiel think he could fly.
And he did fly, the night he was proposed to. Castiel could practically lay on the moon at that point, he was so high. Everything was perfect. He didn't have any worries. He could achieve anything. He could fly, because he was in love.
But he was set back down on the ground again, once more just out of reach of this astral light source, left stretching and reaching for it.
He was set back down, with no one to help him reach the moon, no one to help him fly. The man he fell in love with was gone, unable to chase away Castiel's problems with a simple gesture, a simple phrase.
Gone? Gone where?
Gone among the stars. Dean Winchester was one of them now. Dean Winchester, Castiel decided, was the star just to the right of the moon.
Dean Winchester was right there, just out of Castiel's reach. Just like the beautiful moon. Forever visible, forever unattainable.
It was attainable, as you recall, they both were. But take away one, and it takes away the other. Therefore, the term forever stands erect.
Blue eyes swam with thick tears, slowly shifting from star, to moon. It were moments especially like this that he wished he could fly, so he could once again savor the touch of the moon he'd yearned for, so he could revel in the astral arms of his husband. But he couldn't.
It had been two years since he'd been set back down out of reach. He thought he'd be able to get over this. Castiel thought he could fly again. But he couldn't.
Regardless, Castiel smiled, keeping his gaze on the nighttime sky.
It was always rather chilly by the oceanfront...
But Castiel liked that.