You'd had a fight with Castiel last night. Words are sharp, but silence is much sharper.

After the argument, as you both lying on bed. Castiel turned his back to you. No more warmth, no more arms around you. Just cold distance and a tension that clung to the sheets like static.

It hurts you somehow, So you told him, half angry, half aching to sleep on the couch instead. And he listened. Or so you thought.

But morning came… and something felt off. Your pillow was firmer than usual, warm. Your brows furrowed as your eyes fluttered open. And then...

You were resting on his bicep, thick and solid, his arm curled around you. His bare chest was pressed softly against your back, and the slow, careful brush of his fingers through your hair. Those same fingers trailed down—gentle, reverent—until they found your waist.

His voice came next, low and rough with a little husky sleep rumbling in your ears.

"Baby…" He softly kiss your shoulder.

"I'm really sorry. Please don’t be mad at me anymore." He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling you.

"I'll do anything, baby. Just please..." And then he pulled you closer, placing a soft kisses on your neck and shoulder.