[ there's certainly no denying that he could definitely talk about the stars until he's blue in the face, considering the eyeroll he offers dean has more life in it than nearly their entire conversation up 'til this point. it was all right he says, like every moment spent looking up into the skies isn't a spectacular, astonishing, breathtaking event.

but castiel's learned that most people don't share his passions, even if he can't for the life of him understand why. ]

Meteor showers are beautiful, but they're nothing compared with what's really out there, all the colors and lights of the cosmos.

[ leaning back in his seat, castiel folds his hands loosely in his lap and lifts his eyes to dean's face, his brow drawn tightly as he tilts his head. ]

But no, I'm not pulling your leg. Studies have confirmed that many dust clouds in space are composed of molecules of alcohol or alcoholic compounds, including ethyl formate, which is a primary chemical responsible for a raspberry's flavor. And the smell of rum.

[ so yes, dean, there are giant clouds of booze floating in space and you didn't even know it. you learn something new every day, right? ]