Jun 5, 2014
congrats! and um Destiel and mornings :)
Something Dean noticed about living underground was that time took on a certain meaninglessness. Without daylight, hours of the day in the bunker melded together: he ate when he was hungry, fell asleep when he was tired, and slept until he woke up.
But other things took on a constancy. He and Cas tended to waltz through the motions of the day together, but mornings… mornings most of all were his anchor. In the dim, dingy light of the fluorescents coming from the hall, Cas’ wide cheekbones glowed gentle and lilac like the moon; a softer, paler, much more agreeable light to begin the day.
