It wasn’t unknown you had a strange fascination with angel’s and higher powers. Perhaps it was the promise of a beautiful heaven and peace, maybe it was the power the angel’s held. All Dean, Sam, and Castiel knew was, you were absorbed by them. Your intelligence was another great skill of yours. You were the brother’s encyclopedia, walking Bible. Whenever Cas mentioned something about the celestials, you were add on, helping the brothers understanding.

It would make sense you were interested in Castiel, for he was an angel, a seraphim, highest order of angel’s. The day he introduced himself as a celestial, you knew your studies would be more accurate. This whole thing was buffed by the angel himself.

Your connection, interest with Castiel grew with every unexpected visit, always lightening up with a soft smile at his presence. Castiel, with the disability to pick up social cues, was unaware of your passion. It wasn’t until today.

The bunker was quiet, for Sam and Dean left you alone so you would “be safe”, obviously making sure everything was secure before leaving for a mission. The room had the faint humming of a lamp and a pencil scratching against paper. Your hand moves with a graceful precision as the pencil glides across the paper, bringing the angel to life. Each stroke is deliberate, yet fluid, capturing the ethereal essence of the divine figure. The pencil's fine tip allows for exquisite lines that form the gentle curls of the angel's hair and the feathers of its wings.

It wasn’t long until you heard a soft wind behind you, Castiel. He was looming over you, his blue eyes trained to the sketch. He tilted his head to the side a tab, humming with a curiosity and appreciation of the work. He let his attention wander, landing on a notebook with angel data you’ve written.

“You’re skilled” His deep monotone voice rang out. He blinks, walking around you to stand beside you. “It’s admirable” He says softly.