Gosh. You never really noticed it before.

It had all been utter and pure chance.

One wandering look.

And one big fat mystery placed in your head.

Anytime Castiel- angel of the lord- entered a tight and enclosed space, things around him always fell over.

And you knew for a fact that he didn't touch anything with his body- you had admittedly and rather embarrassingly been watching.

Take, for example, the day you first noticed this actually quite regular occurence.

It was a normal day- oddly peaceful for the usual types of bloody filled hours you'd have to deal with- still peaceful non the less.

You had settled yourself comfortably in your room. Comfortably meaning you were huddled under the masses of blankets you had collected, laptop sitting on your lap and pillows behind you worn in but just as supportive as the day you bought them.

Your room was small- smaller, you should say. Bigger then the average room, but smaller then any other rooms in your house.

What made it especially cramped was the sheer amount of things you hoarded away in the enclosed space. A massive bookshelf took up a full wall, filled with every odd and worn book you found interesting over the years. It was covered head to toe in knick knacks, and paintings, and pieces of papers- drawings, letters-

Looking at the shelf alone without proper preparation was akin to walking into a blast of confetti.

If that wasn't enough- the desk on the opposite side was just as cluttered- if not even more, with stacks of half finished papers piled up into a row of messy eye strains. Knick knacks found it's way onto this surface just the same as the bookshelf, not one free space found.

That was just the furniture.

To cut it short- drawing, painting, and all pieces that fall under those two categories were littering the walls, and the ground only had one solid path that lead to your bed- clothes, in clumped piles, and the creaky box fan took up any other sort of walking space.

We aren't here to talk about your room though.

It had been a peaceful day- a peaceful evening of looking at your laptop in contentedness.

Had.

Key word.

With so little as a warning, Castiel had suddenly blipped into your room, standing with his back to the door with an almost nervous like look on his usually neutral face.

The fluttering of feathers was what initially made you look up- but when a pile of your unsorted mess of papers fell, you tensed, half raising yourself up off the bed before sinking back down at the fact that they had already touched the pile of clothes below.

Looking to Castiel complacency, with a passive yet wanton expression, you spoke, "Did you- uh." An eyebrow raised as another half a pile slid off the desk, "Need something?"

The angel faltered. Not because of the very passive aggressive tone of voice you chose, but clearly because something in his own mind refused to add up. His contemplative eyes found refuge on the floor, looking to and from the mess in a meager attempt to try to solve something.

Honest to God, you took the small moment of silence to size him up. Trenchcoat or no- eyes focused on you or no- you weren't passing an opportunity to ogle.

When his eyes finally rose, foreboding look steeled as he decided himself, you didn't quite stop checking him out, not entirely.

So the moment he started walking towards you- taking the only clear path towards your bed and avoiding the mess, you very clearly noticed how the papers atop the clothing stacks rustled.

Not with wind- but in the way that you couldn't rightfully place a finger on. As if something large and soft had pressed into them and dragged them the slightest of bits along the tops of your clothes.

Not even just the paper- the clothes on the other side of him, clear of papers, were being slightly dragged along as well.

Sure- those two little things could pass as the wind from when he first flew in still rifling about- but after he walked past your squeaky old box fan- mind you not at all touching it- and it had the gal to just outright fall over- you were more then confused.

Cas sent a look to the fan, slightly sorry- as though it was somehow his fault- before immediately moving on.

You didn't have time to ponder those things, as Castiel had seated himself right onto your blankets, half sitting, half standing. His face so hardened with resolve that you barely took into account that yes, when he twisted himself to half sit on your bed, the sheets that were all the way at the bottom (where he clearly was not sitting) had rustled and been pushed.

"(Y/N)." His gruff voice again, left you no room to contemplate these things, and when you looked up into his stone face, you watched as the roughness of it eased up, cracking before softening into a simply confused expression.

"I need your advice."

In that moment- you immediately let go of whatever suspicion you had about the so called 'mystery.' You softened your body language, practically melting into a calmer and more emotionally receptive person.

Cas needed to talk about something serious- he wouldn't have come if it wasn't.

So, you released your thoughts and heard him out.

But now- two weeks after that instance- and it refused to leave your mind.

Every room Cas entered you watched, noticing the subtle movements of carpets, and coats, and all other sorts of niche elements.

Another example for instance-

When entering through a suspect's door, he scrunched himself into an awkward position before walking down the hallway. Immediately after passing a rack of coats, all of the jackets looked as though a large hand had brushed past them.

Coincidence that the hallway into the suspect's house was very narrow? You thought not.

And again- there was yet another time you noticed these strange occurrences-

Due to safety reason, you had to drag Castiel along with you to a grocery store.

Like the loyal person- or angel in this case- he stuck to you like glue, refusing to touch anything should the moment distract him from his purpose. Which was fine with you- company was pleasant even if not as talkative.

You spent most of your time there staring at the cookie aisle- and when you saw your chance to slip through a narrow opening between a row of chips, and a row of pretzels, you jumped on it.

Meandering through them with ease, you looked back as Cas, the awkward shifting of his back as he scrunched himself together telltale signs that things weren't as they appeared. A moment later when a full row of chips fell because Cas had given up on scrunching himself into an uncomfortable position added more and more to your growing pile of proof.

For what? You just didn't seem to know.

You had taken to writing down all the things you noticed. From the carpet, to your papers and clothes, and the box fan, and the coats, and the chips, and even newer things like the time he outright pushed a chair over by accident.

With your detailed accounts of all of these instances, it became abundantly clear that the more flustered or emotional he was, the greater the span of these occurrences-

When a fight broke out between Castiel and Dean, both of them brimming with a smoldering storm of wrath, you didn't see it coming.

Dean was the first to stand up, aggressively pointing a finger straight into Castiel's face.

This only instigated the situation, Cas- already on edge about the very sensitive situation, rising up with an unhaltered fury.

You were standing beside him when this happened, and got hit in the face with something apparently very strong- as when you awoke you were lying on the couch, all of the boys settled, but still very clearly standing on ice.

Cas has apologized to you- as though it was somehow his fault I got knocked out. Voice muffled by guilt and concern.

"...Sorry." was the only thing he managed to grumble out, looking to the floor like a shameful dog.

Despite being beside him, you had several feet of distance between the both of you- out of range for the mediocre rustling of papers- causing your confusion to seep into your acceptance.

"It's...-" your brows furrowed, before you let out a soft smile, "It's all good, Cas."

Distance or no- you had apparently been in range for a pop to the face.

You would find out why and how these things were happening- so help the God above.

________

I will edit this later lol

Am tired