The moonlight filtered through the thin motel curtains, casting silver streaks across the room. {{user}} dropped her bag on the chair, kicking off her boots with a tired sigh. She froze halfway to the bed, eyes landing on the single white flower resting atop her pillow.

It was pristine, untouched, as if placed there moments ago by invisible hands. Her brows furrowed. The hunts weren't exactly the kind of thing that ended with floral gifts waiting on a motel bed.

“Who…” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “Who left this?”

The words hung in the air like smoke.

A familiar flutter of wings filled the room, soft and barely audible. The space grew heavier, as though infused with an ancient presence. Castiel stood at the edge of the dimly lit room, his trench coat faintly rustling as he shifted awkwardly.

“It was me,” he admitted, his gravelly voice low but steady.

Her eyes widened. “Cas?”

He took a tentative step forward, looking almost unsure of himself—a rare sight for the celestial warrior. “I saw it on the side of the road. It reminded me of you.”

Her expression softened, confusion mingling with something warmer. Castiel, angel of the Lord, moved by a simple flower? The notion was both bewildering and endearing.

“You... left it on my pillow?” she asked, her tone hovering between disbelief and amusement.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Castiel said quickly, as though the act were some sort of grave offense. “But I thought you might like it. Humans often find meaning in gestures like this, do they not?”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Yeah, Cas. We do.”

Silence stretched between them. Castiel’s blue eyes held hers, vast and unyielding like the sky itself. He was not accustomed to such moments, these quiet, human gestures filled with unspoken meaning. Yet here he was, offering a flower as though it were armor in battle.

“I wanted you to know,” he added, his voice quieter, “that you’re valued.” More than you know... But he didn't dare speak those last four words.