[ truth be told, castiel isn't necessarily always quite this bad, though of course, dean can't be expected to know that. his high school years were pretty terrible; he had no friends outside of his siblings, hardly bothered to speak with anyone, spent most of his time reading, or walking, or staring thoughtfully at the sky. interacting with anyone who wasn't his family was difficult, and he rarely went out of his way to stir up conversation with anyone. most people took him for a snob; after all, his family is rich and influential, but really castiel was nothing but an awkward boy who had little enough interest in his peers to ever make the effort at being social. books were his friends, and the stars, the night sky. carl sagan and stephen hawking and bill nye were his confidantes, and he was content enough with that.
college was a little easier. he grew a little, found his independence, cast off some of his shyness, but the desire to interact with human beings still wasn't very strong, and while he did it when necessary - in study groups or for group presentations - he still never felt the need to seek it out. it felt a little lonely, sure, but castiel always accepted that he was different, always knew that he was strange, had known it from the first moment he could remember. that he couldn't fit in well with other people was fine when he was happy enough to simply watch them, to participate by observing.
and now? well, now he's more or less found his comfort zone, inasmuch as he ever could. he keeps people at a comfortable distance, doesn't allow himself to be treated like a doormat while still maintaining a polite veneer and cool, composed disposition. he knows himself better, and feels about as comfortable in his own skin as he ever will, because he knows that it will never quite fit but he's made it work, found an equilibrium within himself that serves as best as it can.
dean winchester's dumping it all onto its ear. ]
Pizza.
[ he says, stiffly, and it makes sense now, knowing that dean is here, why sam would bring something like pizza for lunch. castiel's not nearly so fastidious about his eating habits as sam is, but he knows him well enough to know he'd generally prefer something green and leafy to something greasy and cheesy, but dean - dean certainly looks like a pizza sort of guy. and castiel likes it well enough, too.
slowly, he's pulling himself back together, even if it's difficult to keep his eyes off of dean winchester, even if he's having a hard time staying focused, has to force his eyes to dean's face and keep them there. thankfully he's never been shy about direct eye contact. still, castiel clears his throat, shifts his weight. ]
no subject
college was a little easier. he grew a little, found his independence, cast off some of his shyness, but the desire to interact with human beings still wasn't very strong, and while he did it when necessary - in study groups or for group presentations - he still never felt the need to seek it out. it felt a little lonely, sure, but castiel always accepted that he was different, always knew that he was strange, had known it from the first moment he could remember. that he couldn't fit in well with other people was fine when he was happy enough to simply watch them, to participate by observing.
and now? well, now he's more or less found his comfort zone, inasmuch as he ever could. he keeps people at a comfortable distance, doesn't allow himself to be treated like a doormat while still maintaining a polite veneer and cool, composed disposition. he knows himself better, and feels about as comfortable in his own skin as he ever will, because he knows that it will never quite fit but he's made it work, found an equilibrium within himself that serves as best as it can.
dean winchester's dumping it all onto its ear. ]
Pizza.
[ he says, stiffly, and it makes sense now, knowing that dean is here, why sam would bring something like pizza for lunch. castiel's not nearly so fastidious about his eating habits as sam is, but he knows him well enough to know he'd generally prefer something green and leafy to something greasy and cheesy, but dean - dean certainly looks like a pizza sort of guy. and castiel likes it well enough, too.
slowly, he's pulling himself back together, even if it's difficult to keep his eyes off of dean winchester, even if he's having a hard time staying focused, has to force his eyes to dean's face and keep them there. thankfully he's never been shy about direct eye contact. still, castiel clears his throat, shifts his weight. ]
I should.. wait inside.