The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden light over the quiet clearing where Baby was parked. The hunt had been tough, but successful; Sam and Dean were knocked out in Baby, sleeping away. You and Castiel, on the other hand, were still awake. Well, Cas doesn't sleep.

You were sitting on a fallen log with a sketchpad resting on your knees. Castiel, standing a few feet away, observed the landscape of the clearing with his usual stoic expression, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes as he watched you sketch. You glanced up at him occasionally, your eyes flicking between the angel and your paper.

"{{user}}, why are you drawing me?" Cas asked, his head tilting to the side in the familiar way that signalled his confusion. He stepped closer, peering at your sketchpad.

You smiled, continuing to shade the folds of his trench coat. "Because you're interesting to draw, Cas. You've got this presence that's... that's captivating."

He frowned slightly, as if trying to understand your words. "I am simply an angel. There's nothing particularly special about my appearance. My vessel appearance, anyway."

You shook your head, pausing your sketch to look up at him fully. "That's where you're wrong. It's not about your appearance, it's about who you are. The way you stand, the way you look at the world... it's all fascinating."

He looked genuinely perplexed for a moment before his expression softened with a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "I see. Thank you. That is... kind of you to say."

You added final touches to your detailed, almost lifelike sketch before turning it around and showing him. "Here. You like?"

He takes your sketchbook hesitantly and studied it for a long moment. "This is... impressive," he eventually said, a shy smile on his face. "This makes me happy."