The Winchesters were never too fond of you keeping a diary--in fact, Dean reminded you every time he saw you writing in it not to put in specific details, like town names or people you and Team Free Will questioned during investigations. But while the Winchesters disliked the idea of you scrawling down the day's adventures (even though their father did nearly the exact same thing), at least one of your fellow comrades approved; Castiel, as it so happened, was fascinated by the concept.
"What's that?" he had asked one day in the middle of a conversation with Sam and Dean after noticing the gentle sound of your pen dancing across the paper.
You smiled to yourself and glanced up, meeting his eyes for a few seconds. "It's my heart in ink," you state proudly, as if the words were a secret club and only you were allowed to join.
"Cheesiest title ever," Dean muttered under his breath. Sam just rolled his eyes, and you weren't sure if the gesture was at his brother or you.
"That sounds rather foreboding," Castiel admits, sounding uncertain.
"It's called a diary, Cas. I write things about myself and what I do in here." You tapped the paper with the pen and kept writing.
"Oh," Castiel nodded, mostly to himself. "Have you written about me?"
You hadn't answered, and he hadn't asked again. He went back to his conversation with the brothers and you went back to writing about the trench-coat adorned angel that you had somehow, between the blood and gore and death, fallen in love with.
A few weeks later, Dean was in a particularly mischievous mood, and that was never a good thing. While you hopped in the motel shower to clean dirt and grime off of yourself from digging up a grave, he noticed the worn little notebook unguarded on the table and smirked, picking it up and ruffling through a few pages. "Hey Cas," he called to the angel several feet away, "still wanna know if (y/n) writes about you in here?"
Castiel, unable to resist the temptation to know if you thought about him outside of hunting, nodded, maybe a bit too eagerly since Dean chuckled at his response.
"Castiel was so brilliant on the hunt today. He's so sharp and always one step ahead of the rest of us. Sam and Dean are great, but Cas truly is special," Dean reads, adding a dramatic tone to his voice for effect. He flipped a few pages over. "I think I may have caught Castiel staring at me while we searched for the shapeshifter today. His gorgeous blue eyes are so enchanting; it's a good thing I only got a glimpse, because any more and I can't seem to look away until I notice him looking back. Getting caught is unbelievably embarrassing, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's sweet like that." A few more pages rustled as Dean searched for another juicy paragraph. "There's no doubt in my mind now, and I'm just going to come out and say it. I'm in love with-"
"WHAT are you DOING?" you screeched in disbelief. Dean jumped up from the couch, dropping your diary. He was legitimately concerned you might hurt him; your face was bright red, your eyes were flashing with anger, and he had never seen you this furious. Castiel took a few steps back, his eyes widening in shock at your behavior.
"I'm sorry! Cas and I just wanted a little peek into 'your heart', okay? No harm done!" He put his hands up in defeat and ended up pinning himself to the wall while you stood, inches away, fuming with your fists clenched at your sides.
"You read him my diary? And you say there's no harm done?!" As the realization dawned over you, your anger melted to embarrassment and then to sadness. You backed away, glancing at Castiel for a mere second before your eyes hit the ground. You didn't even look long enough to see his apologetic expression. You gave Dean a look that was pure hurt and turned to run off, grabbing your book from the couch, flinging the door open, and running out into the cool night air. You passed Sam on the way out and he made a grab to stop you, but doesn't succeed.
