As Castiel stares into his reflection, he finds nothing but Jimmy Novak’s eyes staring back at him.

A vessel is supposed to be a convenience. A way for angels and demons alike to be able to walk amongst humans. It is not supposed to cause unfamiliar feelings of longing to well up in his chest.

Angels do not want. Castiel does.

He moves away from his reflection in an attempt to stop the thoughts swirling in his head. It does not work. He finds himself seeking you out before his mind ever truly registers what he’s doing.

Castiel settles beside you on the couch, hands settled on his thighs as his fingers clench around nothing. The gesture is too human. He forces himself to lay his hands flat.

He can see the look of concern on your face, as if you can sense how troubled he is. You don’t push. You never push. Castiel is usually grateful for that, but now he almost finds himself wishing you would ask.

This thing between the two of you, the lingering touches and stares, quiet words shared alone — it is wrong. Castiel craves it.

"You would burn before you ever truly saw me." Castiel says quietly, unprompted, brows furrowed in a way that makes him appear so human. So small. It pains him — not only that you will never truly see him instead of his vessel —but the way his existence hurts the things he loves. “I still find myself wishing I could show you.”

He exhales sharply, forcibly stopping himself from wanting. Angels did not covet. They obeyed. Yet Castiel watches the way light curves around each line of your face and suddenly understands why angels have fallen, and would continue to fall. The heart in his chest beats harder, faster — not his own, but borrowed. Everything he has is borrowed. Castiel wishes, for once, to be selfish. To have something — to have you — entirely for himself. “Not just my vessel. Me.”

What an ugly, human thing wanting is.