Author's Note: Crap that I blame on this thing I saw yesterday. I was taking a walk, right, and it's been all rainy the past few days and whatnot. So I'm walking down the road and I see this puddle. In this puddle is this dead worm just floating in the water, all pale and smooth and freaky lookin' o3o
You don't realize what's happened at first.
One second Castiel's crumpling your collar with one hand, the opposite balled in a fist and aiming for your eye and now he's a meter away from you, stumbling backward with fingers clamped to the side of his neck.
His brows slant upwards, mouth soundlessly agape. He looks discomforted and vaguely confused, but not as confused as you are.
The gawking students crowded around you have gone completely hushed. Expressions of anticipation, either of the eager or uneasy nature have all turned to utter shock and they're all fixed right on you.
The unsure murmurs of 'should we stop them' and whispered bets on 'who's going to win this time', and the louder declarations of 'wow they're at it again' are no longer a constant background buzz.
It's dead silent until the gentle splash of a single droplet on the lacquered gymnasium floor.
You glance down to see the pencil in your hand, slick and smeared with crimson that beads at the sharpened graphite point.
You slowly look back to Castiel, to the blood streaming between his fingers, some escaping under his palm in a runnel to his clavicle.
Another droplet descends from the tip of your pencil.
As the realization of what you've just done settles on your shoulders, you find that all you can do is grin like the cat that swallowed the canary and say,
"Oops."