Castiel could feel the wet cold breeze, as the closing hour came. He felt a small bump in his coat pocket. Has he grabbed it, he could feel a warm but unsettling feeling in his chest. It was a piece of wrinkled letter, cover with spots of dried blood and a fast handwriting.
It said:
My dear Clarence:
Ever since I lay my eyes into yours, you've always been in my mind like a huge blinding white though. You make me think of what is right and what is wrong, what is worth and what is not. I don't feel the thirst for revenge as I use to do; I even have hints of remorse... who would have known a demon could have one of those. My dear sweet angel, what have you done to me? Have you cured me? Have you purified me? Cuz it feels like you cast a nasty sweet spell on me. All I think is in seeing you, hearing you, even kiss you. I can feel like human again, all those squishy feelings, all those quiche wishes, to feel love once more again. You know me as Meg, the evil nasty demon who has been a longtime nemesis for the Winchester's, but my real deal is that I'm a pathetic demon wannabe who has fallen in love with an angel. I know you will never see me with the eyes I see you, Hell! You are an angel, and you guys come without any free will from your factory. And even if you someday could have free will, or even feelings I know deep down you wouldn't love something so unworthy like me.
I know that I won't be there anymore being the only reason for me to leave you this letter, I want you to once and for all to know what I've been thinking and feeling. I want you to know that my human name was Darla, yes a silly corny name for a silly corny farm girl, I know you would have loved it. I want you to know you rescued a demon, or at least made me thought you did. That your words, good or bad, have been clarity to my mind. That your actions and conviction have been evidence of my possible redemption. I want you to feel proud of me, to think of the possibility for my salvation. Only you could have made a huge change in a soulless abomination like me and for that I thank you.
You're not so favorite creature,
Meg
A tiny glittery substance peeped down into his cheek, has he properly folded the letter. He stared in to the sky and wished for that moment she was at least there. He knew that once a demon always bound to hell, but he wanted to indulge the probability of soul restoration and redemption. He would never see, or hear from her again. The only thing that stayed from her was the goodbye letter and the faint feeling of the first and last kiss they would ever have.
