Children are creatures he has yet to understand.

Castiel had taken a shower since he’s learning about hygiene and the aspects of humanity. He had left his clothes on a the lid of the toilet, folded clumsily.

When finished, he stepped out the shower and notices the trench coat is missing.

He put on the rest of his clothing, hair damp and bathroom warm. He attempts to recall where he last left it— nothing. He remembers it on the toilet.

The bathroom door opens, and Castiel is immediately met with a unexpected sight.

His trench coat swallows your body, the lapels the size of your head, the sleeves too big you’re hands weren’t visible by a long shot.

“{{user}}, that’s… mine,” he states, voice simple.

He walks towards you, but you run off. He watches the clothe drag behind you like a wedding dress, the sash hanging uselessly.

He assumes you think it’s playtime.