Good morning, Vince McMahon High, please excuse these announcements. Just wanted to remind everyone that the Spring Fling is next Tuesday...
I didn't pay the announcements any attention, it's not like I have anyone to go with anyway. Ms Pond is talking away about how many different Theorems there are and I zone out. An ambulance came speeding down the asphalt while she spoke. "Can you please get murdered on another street? I'm trying to teach!" She said sarcastically, earning a collective laugh from everyone.
As I watched it fly down the street, the rosebush caught my attention -- bees were pollinating. I sit at the back of the classroom near the window so that I can watch the bees when it's warmer. They've always fascinated me, the bees. They're such hard and loyal workers. It's amazing how they make the honey. Honey is essentially bee spit, come to think of it. "Castiel!" Ms Pond snapped at me.
"Yes, ma'am?" I ask, hesitantly looking away from the rosebush. "Is there something you'd like to share? You've been starring out of the window for the passed..." She looks at her watch, "Three and a half minutes." I flushed red. When 'insubordinates', as she calls them, don't tell her why we they distracted, she assigns six paragraph to four page essays on miscellaneous subjects.
"I was... watching the bees." My head hung without permission, bees were looked upon uninterestingly. Ms Pond knew I wasn't the most normal person but that didn't seem to make her any easier on me than the others. "My apologies." I say, looking up. She gave me a pointed look and went back to teaching the lesson.
The lunch bell rang a few moments later and I grabbed my computer bag, leaving my school bag seeing as I have this class next hour. I walked to my locker, turning the dial on the door to my combination. 18, 26, 3, I chant to myself. On the inside of my locker hung a copy of the last picture my mother took before she disappeared. I didn't dare to bring the original with me knowing the people at this school...
I could feel hot tears stinging the back of my eyes as I remember the few things I could about her. Not here, I think, not today. Igoring the pile of enevelopes and folded peices of paper on the floor of my locker, I grab my lunch bag and close the door, turning the dial back to zero. The halls are quiet and almost empty, a few stragglers late to class, some skipping. I walk alone as I always do to my tree a little ways off from the outside tables.
I pull out my computer, setting my lunch down, opening it to see Netflix open automatically. My best (which is just a sad way of saying only) friend Charlie borrowed it for a weekend and now it does this automatically. The episode of Doctor Who I was watching last night played.
"You see now? That's what they were planning in the final days of the War. I had to stop them."
Just as he finishes his sentence, someone taps me on the shoulder. I look up but the sun is behind what looks like a male, silhouetting him. "C-Can I help you?" I stuttered out. People never talk to me at lunch, or ever for that matter. Naturally when the figure sat beside me, I was a little unnerved. "Actually, yes, you can. I saw you sitting here by yourself and thought 'why not', ya know?" He smiled at me, squinting in the sun. "I appreciate the sentiment but I can throw a pity party all by myself." I was trying to pack up my things but he grabbed my hand, gently, and looked me in the eyes.
"Please, don't leave. I didn't mean it like that." His hold on my hand never faltered, but once I sat down he let go. I felt cold and alone once more. I stared down at my hand. "Sorry about the, uh, hand... thing." He said, blushing and looking away as he awkwardly cleared his throat. "It's alright." I say, opening my laptop once more, my hand becoming increasingly cold as his was gone. I pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from my lunch bag, offering half to the kind stranger. He smiled wide, gladly taking the ration. "Have you eaten?' I ask, concerned. "I'm allergic to school food." He said, biting into his half. I smiled, small and irrepressible. I pressed resume on the show.
"What are we watching?" He asked around his food. "Doctor Who, a television show about a traveler of both time and space." He nodded his head eating the rest of his sandwich, mine barely bitten into. He scoots closer so that our arms rub together. I assume it was to see the screen better. His bare skin rucked up the sleeve of my coat, our hands touching. I try my best to ignore the spread of tingles and the cool sensation creeping throughout my arm, suppressing a smile. I looked over at him from the corner of my eye. He's... Pretty. Prettier than he has any right to be.
The kind stranger was almost in tears by the end of the episode. He was leaning quite heavily on me, his lip quivered in the slightest.
"I don't want to go..."
"I'm not crying, I'm sweating from my eyeballs." He says, blinking away the tears. I laughed. "You are ridiculous." I say, shutting my laptop and picking up the snack wrappers from our shared lunch. "Hey, wait, what are you doing?" He asks.
"Packing up. Ten minutes until class starts." I say. I was sad that this was over. He's probably going to stop talking to me after this and I'll be alone. Again. I threw away our trash and walked back to our spot on the grass, pushing away the dark thoughts though they'd soon return. "...But it's not over!" He rolled over on his hide, a hand on his hip while his head rested in the palm of his other hand. It was a bit odd. A smile crept across my face and stayed there, the first time I've really smiled in a long time.
He smiled a wolfish grin in return. I settled next to him in the dewy grass, facing him. I wanted to get one last look at his emerald green eyes for I believed it was the last time I'd see them. I could feel my smile fading away into the stern countenance I usually wore, this brief moment of happiness already seeming so far away. "What's the matter?" He asks, worry evident in his voice and the pull off his brow.
"Nothing." I say coldly, grabbing my things and walking to my locker. I could hear him calling after me but I only walked faster. "Wait!" He yelled. I was in front of my locker when he caught up to me. I felt a hand curl around my wrist, pulling me. "If I said something-" I cut him off, placing my hand face down in his. "You didn't do anything. I was afraid this wouldn't happen again so I tried to save myself the pain of saying goodbye." We stood silently like this for a few moments. I looked down at our hands, a warmth settled in my chest and spread throughout my body. I held on to this feeling, tucking it away where no one could take it away from me, holding on as if my life depended upon it.
He grabbed my other hand, lacing our fingers together as if he'd done it million times. "I've only been here a couple days and I- I don't know. I needed to say something, anything to you." His voice was gentle and quiet. I didn't notice when he inched closer to me but our noses were inches apart we were so close, his warm breath tickling my skin.
"I don't even know you but I almost lost my shit when you walked away." He laughed breathily, his gaze analytic, as if he were gauging my reaction. I couldn't explain what overtook me but I inched closer, as did he. Our lips connected in the slightest, a tickle of a touch. I pulled away, his hands resting on my hips, as it occurs to me that I didn't know his name. It's a little embarrassing that I nearly kissed him without knowing his name. He seems more than okay with that, even though he didn't know mine either.
"What is, your name?" I asked, haltingly.
"Dean Winchester."
"Castiel Milton." I placed my hands over his biceps, my watch coming into view. One minute until class starts. Dean slipped a piece of paper into my pocket. I raised an eyebrow and smiled widely. "Was it your intention to give me your number this whole time?" Dean blushed deep scarlet, peering at me through his eyelashes.
"Maybe..." He stole a kiss and whispered "Call me" what could only be described as seductively, his breath hot against my ear, and walked away.
A/N: One thousand, five-hundred and fifty three words (not counting this author's note). That is the gauge I have hereby set for every chapter, lets hope I can stick to it! I won't tell you to like or comment because if you enjoyed it you'll do so.
