When I heard Opal's soft footsteps walk past the dining hall without pausing I closed my eyes briefly as I tried to get my raging emotions under control.

Why did she have to come today... Of all days? 

My mind replayed seeing Mom walk out of our front door without looking back and then her shocked expression when I called out to her. Anger and frustration bubbled through me and I gritted my teeth to keep from letting out any expletives.

Slowly I made my way to the ridiculously large dining room table. I looked at the monstrosity and couldn't remember a single time when there had been enough people to actually fill the stupid thing. Glancing down I saw the normal offering that Mom left behind. A small glass dish with several hundred dollar bills and a note on top of the stack. Also as per usual, there was a small wine glass with a ring of dark red liquid at the bottom. A humorless chuckle escaped my throat as I glared at the glass.

She always has time to drink some wine, but she couldn't even be bothered to text me that she was here, I thought as anger and frustration floated through me. 

Not really knowing why I bothered, I reached out and took the wine glass in my hand at the same time as I picked up the note she had left.

Hello, Darling!

I'm sorry I missed you. My latest project was a huge success! The city gave me an award for my design and I had several other businessmen from Sydney try to commission me as their head architect. I had to let them down, of course, since I already have my next project lined up, but maybe I'll go back there someday!

While I was working on the project there though I met a local CEO of a large recording studio in Sydney and he said his band was looking for a talented guitarist! I'll leave his contact information below so you can call him if you are interes...

I crumpled the note in my hand before I could read any further.

You could have told me all this if you just texted me, Mom. I thought bitterly. 

I could feel my anger growing and I knew it was a little irrational but anger felt so much better than the alternative. If I was angry I wouldn't have space to feel things like self-pity or sadness which I hated more than anything. Who needed parents anyways?

The sound of glass shattering and sharp pain in my palm suddenly pulled me out of my thoughts. I yelled out in surprise and pain before slowly opening my hand that had just crushed Mom's wine glass. The bloody gash in the fleshy part of my thumb seemed to mock me and I glowered down at it as frustration bubbled inside me.

"Flip!" I growled angrily, just as the sound of running feet met my ears.

I looked up just as Opal ran into the dining room, her green eyes wide with concern. I quickly clenched my hand into a fist to try and hide the injury from her, but I winced as I felt something sharp push deeper into my palm. Faster than I could believe, Opal was at my side and reached out one hand under my bleeding hand to catch the drip of blood in her open palm.

"Go into the kitchen," Opal ordered softly. Frustration at her seeing me like this bubbled and I heard a growl rise up from my throat.

"I can take care of it myself," I growled. 

To my surprise Opal shoved me with her other hand, causing me to stumble from the unexpected push. She glided after me, still catching my blood in her palm to keep it from dripping on the carpet.

"Move," she insisted firmly and I blinked in surprise.

What happened to the quiet and obedient Opal? I thought to myself. 

Surprisingly I felt a small smile tug at one corner of my lips and I found myself moving toward the kitchen as she ordered. She followed me to the kitchen sink where she turned the faucet on and rinsed off her palm quickly before pushing mine underneath the lukewarm water.

I winced as the water rushed over my open wound but my attention quickly turned to Opal. She was removing her jacket and hat which she placed carefully on top of the counter before she bustled over to the pantry. I watched as she confidently opened the door and took down the first aid kit without asking me where it was. She rushed back over to me and zipped open the large kit, rifling through it while glancing at my hand every once in a while.

Leaving my hand under the running water, I watched as she pulled out a few cotton balls, tweezers, a tube of some kind of ointment, tiny bandages, and gauze. She then pushed the rest of the kit to the side, leaving space for her small pile of supplies before walking over and gently reaching out for my hand. Embarrassment gripped me and I pulled away from her hand slightly.

"It's not a big deal, I can do it myself," I growled and winced inwardly at how rude that sounded.

Why do I always end up lashing out at Opal? Especially when I have been trying to get the courage up all day to tell her I wanted us to be more than friends... This is not the time for me to be a jerk, I thought to myself with a hefty amount of frustration.

"It's your hand, Castiel!" Opal said with wide eyes. 

I felt my eyes narrow in confusion as I looked at the blood welling up at the gash on my hand now that it wasn't under running water.

"Yeah...?" I said, once again wanting to kick myself as I heard the sarcasm dripping from my voice. Opal looked up at me with sadness in her eyes and it felt like her gaze was rooting me to the ground.

"You play your guitar with your hands, Castiel. What if you don't take care of it properly and something really bad happens?" Opal asked with more concern than I could hardly believe. 

I blinked in mute silence and wondered if anyone had ever said something with more genuine concern for me and my future.

Without conscious thought, I extended my hand back out towards her and she smiled sweetly at me. Her delicate hands reached out and cupped mine and I couldn't help but notice that even though her fingers were long, my own hand dwarfed hers. She pulled my hand closer to her, gently rinsing off the blood that had pooled over the gash before she began to cautiously press along the gash line. I couldn't help but wince as something sharp dug a little deeper into my skin and she immediately removed her fingers.

For the next five minutes, she used the tweezers to pull out a few leftover shards from the glass I had crushed. It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience, but I found myself watching Opal and wondering why she was so calm in a situation like this. Although to be honest, this was only making me like her more. I hated it when girls acted all helpless and afraid for no good reason.

Once Opal was done taking out the glass she rinsed the cut again. As she dried it she squirted a hefty amount of antibacterial ointment and gently rubbed it into the cut, making me bite the inside of my cheek to keep from wincing at the stinging sensation. After drying the blood and excess ointment she began to use tiny bandages to grab onto one side of the cut and pull it closed. 

As she was applying the bandage I realized that I hadn't said anything during the whole process. My mind spun to try and think of something to say.

"So, if I had cut my leg you wouldn't have cared?" I heard myself ask gruffly and I wished I had just stayed silent.

Why can't I just be civil for once in my life? I growled angrily at myself. 

Opal looked up at me with surprise and a strange feeling fluttered in my stomach as her mouth turned down in a frown and hurt shone in her eyes.

"Of course not," she replied with a heavy frown. I swallowed with difficulty and once again opened my mouth before I could think through what I was going to say.

"I know." I blinked in shock as I heard the gentle, almost repentant tone that left my mouth. Opal's eyes widened in surprise and a small smile quirked up the corners of her lips. A light blush touched her pale cheeks and she ducked her head, refocusing on closing my cut with the butterfly bandages.

"Good," she said quietly and I couldn't keep from smiling.

It had been a long time since I felt anything like what I felt for Opal. Although I tried to convince myself several times that I needed to give up on her... but no matter how much I reminded myself that Lysander liked her, or that she probably liked my dog better than me... I just couldn't get her innocent smile out of my head. I even told Lysander about my feelings, which was one of the hardest things I have ever done. But true to him, Lysander had just looked at me silently and eventually said that it was up to Opal who she would give her heart.

Am I crazy to think a sweet girl like Opal would ever want to be with a sarcastic brute like me? I wondered for the thousandth time as I watched her calmly and proficiently close up my gashed hand.

"Castiel...," I glanced at Opal's bowed head as she wiped away the blood that was oozing only a little bit out of the cut she had cleaned and began to wrap gauze confidently around it.

"What?" I asked, trying to keep my voice free of sarcasm or anger. 

My eyes flicked from her white-blonde braided hair down to my hand as she wrapped the gauze quickly and efficiently around my palm and wrist in an alternating pattern. I could feel my eyes narrow as I wondered again why Opal was so good at this.

"Can I... ask why your parents travel so much?" 

I felt my body stiffen at the question and I remained silent as I considered her request. I hated talking about my parents. It made me analyze my feelings a little too much and I would prefer to keep those buried under my many layers of anger and self-dependence. 

Still, the fact that it was Opal and she wanted to learn more about me made me feel a little happy. Also, the way that she asked made my body relax. She didn't just come out and ask me about my life story, and she hadn't tried to push about anything my mom said even though she had acted completely inappropriate toward her. Opal simply asked if I was okay with her even asking me about it. All of that combined slowly lowered my guard and I heaved a sigh.

"My dad is a famous medical researcher. He's been fundamental in creating countless different antiviruses for diseases around the world. But the process can take years, so he normally lives wherever he is working currently until his vaccine is complete, then he moves on to the next one." 

My voice sounded hollow even to my ears and I mentally chided myself, trying to make myself sound more upbeat as Opal cut the gauze and began to carefully tape it down.

"My mom is a famous architect. She designs huge modern skyscrapers and she's won awards from almost every country she's built something. She always has a project lined up after she finishes her latest one though, so she's constantly on the move," I explained.

Even though Opal was focused on my hand, moving it gently to the left and right to make sure the bandage was secure, I could tell that she was listening intently. To my surprise, her hands squeezed mine after I finished speaking and she slowly raised her eyes to look up at me. I honestly had never seen eyes as deep green as hers, probably because her skin was so pale in contrast. We stayed there, standing in my kitchen with Opal holding my bandaged hand and just looking into each other's eyes. It was almost like I could feel Opal trying to speak to me through her hands and eyes.

"Do they call you?" she asked quietly. 

I blinked, pulling myself out of the calming pool that her eyes had somehow dipped my mind into, and tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice as I responded.

"The last time I heard from Mom was when you were here," I admitted. 

Slowly I turned away from Opal's sympathetic eyes and inwardly chided myself. Why are you being such a baby about this? Even if they called it's not like I would have anything to say to them, I thought vehemently. They had removed themselves from my life years ago and if they did try to reach out all they could talk about was their work and what a 'good boy' I was. I didn't need them.

I flinched slightly and turned as I felt gentle fingers glide over my bandaged hand. Looking down I saw Opal's fingers trace mine from my fingertips up to my wrist and then she slowly lowered my hand and took a timid step closer. I remained still as she hesitantly leaned forward and rested her forehead against my upper arm. To my amazement, she brought her arm up and, almost cautiously, wrapped it around my waist and rested her hand lightly against my back as her other hand held my wrist in a feather-light grip.

After a second of stunned disbelief, I gently wrapped my free arm around her shoulders and looked down at the top of her head. I had hugged Opal several times since I met her, but each time she almost instantly pulled away and she had never truly returned my hug. Even this morning when she seemed like her mind was trapped and she was acting almost like a robot she leaned against me but she hadn't put her arms around me.

Why is she so willing to comfort me but so unwilling for me to be there for her? I wondered silently as we stood without speaking, wrapped loosely in each other's arms.

I would have been happy to stay in that quiet moment forever, but (true to his name) Demon dashed into the kitchen. He rushed over to us, interrupting the serene moment by propelling himself onto his back legs, leaning one of his forelegs on my hip and the other on Opal's. Opal jumped in shock, instantly pulling away from me and I could see her cheeks seemed to be dyed a flaming red color. Demon barked energetically and I glowered down at the stupid mutt but eventually sighed and tousled his ears affectionately.

"I guess you're ready to go," I commented, wincing slightly when my injured hand twinged as I pet Demon. "Did you still want to go to the dog park, Opal?"

Glancing up, I saw that Opal had turned away and was already slipping her arms into her jacket. She nodded silently in agreement. I was tempted to try and move in front of her so I could see if she was still blushing, but I decided against it. Hopefully, by the end of the day, I could convince her that whatever secret she was hiding wouldn't matter to me and I could ask her to be my girlfriend. If that happened then I was sure I would have lots of opportunities to see her blushing face.

Demon bounced around like an idiot as we got ready outside the door. I pulled his leash out of the closet and clipped it firmly onto his chain collar as he snuffled at Opal's legs while she tried to slip back into her boots. She smiled happily and leaned down, pressing her own nose against Demon's black one, and then giggled cutely when he licked her chin. It still baffled me as to why Demon had taken such a shine to her, but I had to admit that seeing her treat him like a puppy instead of a monster made me feel a little tingly inside.

The dog park was only a ten minute walk from my house, so instead of having Demon's dog breath fog up my convertible windows, I decided we would walk. Opal extended her gloved hand silently and I couldn't help but smirk at her expectant smile before handing over Demon's leash. Demon walked in between us as I guided her to the dog park and once we got there we spent some time playing fetch with Demon.

The clouds had lessened a bit and were letting the sun poke through, warming the air a little. Soon I unzipped my jacket. Demon was a ball of energy, but I noticed as we continued to play that Opal seemed to be slowing down a little. I was about to suggest that we take a break when a woman with six dogs walked into the park. She was the neighborhood dog walker and I had seen her several times here in the dog park. Demon's attention immediately went to her and her pack of dogs and I didn't stop him when he ran over so he could get in on the fun.

"Should we go get him?" Opal asked worriedly and I smiled down at her.

"She doesn't mind having him join in. Why don't we sit down for a while?" I suggested. 

Opal nodded a little uncertainly, but she followed me to a bench that had already been cleared off of snow as the woman walked her pack of dogs to the far side of the dog park. She then pulled out several frisbees and a plastic handle that you could stick a tennis ball in and use to throw it farther than normal from her backpack.

I heard Opal let out a small sigh as she sat down and I frowned. She probably didn't sleep well with her Dad threatening to make her move back, I thought, and then my frown deepened. But why did she seem so upset? Is her home life really so bad that she would completely shut down at the thought of going back?

"Is your hand alright?"

Opal's gentle voice pulled me from my thoughts and I looked down at the black glove covering my bandaged hand. I shrugged since I had honestly forgotten about the injury and flexed my hand experimentally.

"It feels fine to me," I answered gruffly and Opal smiled.

"That's good, but you should probably not move it around too much," Opal suggested. I smirked but relaxed my hand and folded my arms.

"So, Opal. Have you ever dated anyone?" I asked abruptly, not sure how else to broach the subject she had shut down so hard at lunch. Opal gave me an incredulous look and I couldn't help but laugh.

"No," she replied tightly. I stopped laughing and would have asked another question but she beat me to it. "But you have. Right?" she asked. 

Her voice had relaxed and taken on an almost awkward but slightly curious tone. I frowned, not really wanting to talk about my past relationships. Although I wondered if I shared more about my own life, she might feel comfortable enough to tell me why she thought she couldn't date anyone.

"Yeah, I've dated," I answered reluctantly, looking away from Opal and narrowing my eyes as a face I would have rather forgotten surfaced in my mind's eye.

"Did it not go well?" she asked softly. I blinked, turning back to look at the concern in her eyes.

Wouldn't most girls ask what she was like or why it ended? Why does Opal always phrase questions to make it sound like she's only concerned with how I feel about a situation? I wondered in confusion. 

This was new territory for me since most of the people who I had talked to about past relationships knew at least a little bit about Deborah. Wondering what I should say or how much I should tell I shifted awkwardly in my seat and cleared my throat.

"My first and last serious relationship was back in freshman year," I started, annoyed with how gruff my voice sounded. "There was a girl named Deborah who was in a guitar class with me that I took. She was really chatty and happy and she was friends with everyone. At first, I thought she was really annoying."

"Why is that?" Opal asked when I paused. I grimaced, feeling a little embarrassed to be telling her this.

"Back then I... wasn't very mature. My parents had just declared me independent so they wouldn't have to take their time to sign my permission forms in high school and I was... angry. I was always trying to get into trouble because I thought that would make them pay attention to me." I winced at how lame that sounded and then frowned deeply. "I was just being an idiot though. I hate kids who purposefully make trouble for their parents," I growled with more animosity than I intended. Looking back on that time of my life made me feel so worthless and foolish. I hated thinking about it.

Suddenly I realized that I was supposed to be telling Opal about my relationship and I turned to apologize but my words froze behind my lips. Opal's eyes had widened as if she'd seen a ghost and her gloved hands were trembling in her lap.

"What's wrong? Did I scare you?" I asked in a rush, mentally kicking myself for going off on such a useless tangent. 

Opal blinked and the horrified expression in her eyes melted away instantly as she plastered a smile on her face. I frowned, once again wondering how she could possibly hide her feelings so effectively. She shook her head and clasped her hands firmly together.

"No. I'm sorry. If you wanted to keep going then I'll listen," Opal said calmly. I frowned, shifting a little on the bench to look at her better.

"Are you sure?" I asked suspiciously and she nodded.

"Of course." 

I narrowed my eyes at her but the strange emotion didn't resurface. It was obvious she wasn't going to tell me anything else so I reluctantly continued, hoping that my plan to make her feel comfortable enough to talk to me about her past would work.

"Anyway. Deborah didn't really take no for an answer. Eventually, I decided that maybe if I got a girlfriend then I wouldn't feel so... alone," I admitted through gritted teeth and I saw Opal's eyes soften in quiet sympathy. "Deborah and I went steady for almost a year. In the middle of my sophomore year, we decided to audition for a talent agency in Sweet Amoris. Deborah sang and I played the guitar and we actually ended up making it. But that's when things started falling apart."

I leaned back, looking up at the grey sky and wondering when the clouds had come back with such force. Opal waited patiently for me to continue and to my surprise, I found that I actually wanted to tell her what happened.

"One day I showed up to practice at the talent agency and our manager pulled me aside. He told me that he lined up a band for us to join but that they had found someone else to be the lead guitarist. I got angry and left the agency fuming. When I saw Deborah at school the next day I went over, expecting her to comfort me or say that she would talk to the manager for me, but no. She pulled me aside and told me that she and I were finished." 

Opal gasped quietly and I looked over, smiling slightly at her horrified expression.

"Apparently she had only been dating me because she thought she'd be able to use my guitar skills to get into the industry. After a while, I found out that she was the one who told our manager lies about me to make him choose a different guitarist. I guess she didn't want to be outshone by me or something dumb like that," I said with a humorless chuckle. 

Opal's mouth dropped open in shock and to my surprise, I thought I saw a look of disgust in her eyes.

"That's awful! How could she be so cruel?" she asked with a huff. I blinked and smiled, surprised at how relieving it felt to have her react like this.

"She was just selfish and I was too dumb to see through her," I admitted with a sigh. "I didn't react well to it either. For the rest of the year, I jumped from one girl to the next, trying to act as if Deborah never mattered to me in the first place. But by my junior year, I was done. I didn't want to deal with any kind of relationship so I just ignored everyone except for Lysander and my music buddies."

I looked over at Opal and was surprised at how sad she looked. My throat tightened slightly as I looked at her innocent expression and wondered if someone as good as her could ever like someone as messed up as me. Honestly, I knew she would be better off with someone like Lysander or even Dajan... but the thought of anyone else with Opal made jealousy roar through my ears. I knew I'd never be able to give her up unless I knew for a fact that she didn't feel anything for me. Which meant that I needed to take the leap and ask.