the rough tides between you and me

everything was blue

one month later

It's officially been thirty-one days since they left.

Dean still couldn't wrap his mind around it. It was as if they disappeared, but no, it was nothing like that. They just simply left and he couldn't have done anything about it even if he could slip in small, convincing words of wisdom that maybe would have changed Lisa's mind.

Each and every morning, he still expected Lisa to wake him up with the beautiful smell of apple pie, cut up and ready to be eaten in the dining room. He still expected Ben to stomp his way down the stairs, chugging down his breakfast so he wouldn't be late for school. Instead, the house was dead silent. There wasn't any sizzling sound of eggs being fried, or the sound of the microwave beeping. The eerie and unsettling sounds of nothing but a high pitched ringing noise was the only thing that could be heard.

This morning was the first morning that he had woken up when the sun was already up and at it. He rubbed his eyes in attempt to rub the exhaustion out of him, sharp drops of sadness fell into the ocean of thoughts in his mind. Dean didn't find any reason to be up so early, so it did not alarm him of his unusual necessity to sleep more . He drowsily dragged himself out of bed, heading towards his closet and picking out the usual; a red plaid over a dark grey shirt with a pair of comfy jeans.

Practically aching to just go back to bed, Dean forced himself to go get some fresh air. Maybe he'll even drop by Starbucks to pick up the usual, who knows? Who cares?

He got inside his beautiful 1967 Chevrolet Impala, patting the hood of the car, looking around anxiously; it was just a bad habit he kept after they left for some odd reason. He got inside the car, starting up the engine and checking the glove compartment for the computer (and frankly, earbuds) he's been using to contact Lisa and Ben.

Everyday, for the past thirty days, they called over on skype at approximately one in the afternoon. Unfortunately, they could only call for fifteen minutes due to Lisa having to work and Ben needing to go to with her. And right at that moment, it was already almost 12:47 pm. Dean quickly drove over to Starbucks so that he'd have at least a little bit of time to get ready and order.

As soon as Dean entered Starbucks, his nostrils immediately filled up with the magnificent scent of coffee being brewed. He paced over to the fairly short line, already having the order ready in his head. He stood there patiently, checking his watch every now and then. 12:54 pm, his watch read. He slowly but surely began to lose his patience in line, "What would you like today?" the man asked so kindly. Dean soon, unknowingly, spat out a bunch of inaudible nonsense.

"Sir, could you please repeat that?" The man squinted his eyes and tilted his head ever so slightly.

Dean glanced at his watch again... 12:58 pm. Tick, toc, tick, toc. "Give me the usual," Dean said, trying to keep his voice low and calm.

"Which would be?"

"Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-fat, Caramel Macchiato," Dean gritted through his teeth.

"Could you repeat that slower? I'm kind of new here," He chuckled.

Dean could have swore he saw a small smirk plaster on to his face which ticked him off even more.

"Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-fat, Caramel Macchiato, please." He said, sounding out every word slowly.

"Alrighty," The guy smiled before tapping into the monitor, "That would be a total of --"

Dean slammed down a twenty dollar bill, causing the man to jump a little. The shorter man widened his eyes a bit before slowly taking the twenty. The man watched Dean tiredly march over to a nearby table assuming that he was waiting for his drink.

Dean subtly opened up his computer, typing in his password. When he got in, he waited for the screen to load and as he waited, he saw the guy who took his order talking to another person who had seem to be helping him. Their eyes met and Dean rapidly looked away, back to the screen. He felt the guy stare at him for at least a good two minutes before working. He shook his head, clicking on the skype app knowing he only had about seven minutes to talk with them. Dean placed his earbuds in his ears, hearing the ringing noise buzzing through his eardrums.

But, no one answered the call. Dean tried calling once more, hoping that he wasn't too late, but still no answer. He checked the messages to see if they left something and thankfully, they did.

      Dean, we're sorry but I needed to head on to work on time today. I'm working over night at the hospital so I'm not sure if we'll be able to call tomorrow either. Ben might though, so that's good, right? Take care.
Love,
Lisa and Ben <3

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, contemplating whether or not he should leave a message back or just get his macchiato and leave. After a long time just sitting in his seat, he typed a quick reply before getting up and deciding to leave. He closed the laptop and turned around to find himself bumping into a shorter man. In result, the drink the boy held in his hands fell and splattered all over the ground.

Dean stood there fuming with anger as he glared directly at the guy. The guy stared back, opening and closing his mouth, seeming to want to say something. Perhaps he wanted to apologize. All Dean did was just close his eyes, sighing. He must admit that at first he was furious, but he knew the man didn't mean to cause any trouble. The guy was almost too innocent looking to have purposely dropped the drink on his shoes.

"I'm -- I'm sorry," The man stuttered, his face flushing red, "I was going to personally give you the drink to save you the trouble of having to stop what you're doing and getting it. But then --"

Dean sighed, "It's okay,"

"Castiel," He told him after a while, "Call me Castiel."

Dean scrunched up his eyebrows, confusion written all over his face, but went with it. "Alright, Castiel, I'm gonna -- I'm gonna go now,"

"Right," Castiel said, nodding.

He tightly held the computer in his left hand, ambling towards the door. Dean was thoughtfully taking his time for some odd and unknown reason. It was almost as though he wanted the shorter man to stop him and talk about -- well, anything. Suddenly, voice called out and he turned around almost too rapidly and hopefully for his own liking.

"Wait," Castiel sputtered out, jogging to him, "Let me make this up to you since you just wasted about twenty bucks."

Dean was going to simply and kindly deny the offer, but Castiel shut him up. "Please? I just feel awfully terrible about it,"

The Winchester boy hestantly nodded, then the smaller boy took his empty hand, taking out a sharpie from the pocket of his green apron, writing something down. Once he finished, he closed the cap on to the sharpie, tucking it away and waving goodbye. Dean looked down at his hand seeing a bunch of random and useless numbers. He was more than confused as to why he wrote a bunch of jibberish on his hand before realizing it was his phone number.

Glancing at the boy who was on the ground, cleaning up the mess he made, Dean's eyes wandered over to what the guy wore; khaki pants, a black collared shirt with a green apron over it and a small name tag that was neatly placed on the right side of his apron. Quickly looking away, he turned around and headed out the double doors.

As he got inside his car, he wondered why he just agreed to letting that Castiel kid take him out and repay him. It sounded way too gay for his liking, but decided not to hurt the guy's feelings by declining his offer. Dean placed his computer back into the glove compartment, pushing his thoughts of regret away, appreciating Castiel's kindness.

He stared at the number in his hand, unconsciously smiling to himself before driving out of the Strabuck's parking lot. Dean had this unforgiving rumbling in his stomach that caused him to suck in a breath and finally notice how fast his heart beated against his chest. Not knowing what to make of this feeling, he kept on driving home, thinking more of the shy man.

Well, fuck.

word count; 1,481