The brisk fall air bites at Dean as he walks along the brick sidewalk, dodging between people. The streets were busy, which isn't uncommon in Goodwick, but unlucky for Dean Winchester who was going to be extremely late for his 3 year anniversary dinner with his girlfriend. He muttered about one-hundred 'sorry's and 'excuse me's before stumbling into the restaurant sign that read "Ristorante Italiano". Hm, not very original. He thought.
"Hi," Dean muttered to the hostess after looking around for his date. "Reservations for two, name's Dean Winchester."
"We have you right here," she replied. "The other half of your party isn't here yet, sir, but I can seat you if you'd like?"
"Uh, no thanks, I think I'll wait for her." Dean said, the hostess gave him a nod before moving to the next guest. Maybe she's running late too? Dean thought, but Lisa was never late. He sat next to a man with messy hair and a long trench coat. Dean couldn't help but notice how blue the man's eyes were . . . a second later he realized he was staring and flashed the man an awkward smile, but he didn't seem to notice because his phone started ringing. Dean had nothing better to do than to listen to the conversation (which is not polite by the way, but Dean Winchester was never one to be polite).
"Hello," the man answered. "I- I'm not home right now so . . . look this is my night off and- . . . I'm sorry, but I can't." With that he hung up the phone and sat with a look of annoyance, until he noticed Dean sitting by him, "Hi," He said, "I'm Cas."
"Oh uh, Dean." He replied, a little worried that Cas had noticed him listening.
"I was supposed to meet my father, but it seems he's been delayed," Cas said, "You?" He seemed completely comfortable talking to Dean.
"My date isn't here yet." Dean said shortly, "It's our anniversary." He wondered why he felt so comfortable, he usually kept to himself, but there was something about the man . . . the way his eyes were warm and he seemed so . . . different?
"Oh," was all that came back.
The two sat in what felt like an excruciatingly long silence until Cas checked his phone again and sighed.
"What time were your reservations?" Dean asked.
"Oh, um, nine." Cas answered his tone obvious that his dad wasn't showing up. Dean checked his watch that said eight fifty-five.
"Well it's too late for my evening, but I hope your dad shows up soon." Dean got up to leave but before he could reach the door, Cas called to him.
"Dean!" He shouted a little too loudly, "Maybe, we could have dinner together? I mean, uh, why waste the, um, reservations?" He said walking over to where the man stood. Dean thought for a moment.
"Sure, why not. I hear the pie's delicious." Replied Dean with a smirk.