I’m actually really tired, so I’m gonna pass out watching Netflix. I got a little bit done, though not much, but still; it counts.
If anyone wants to chat or plot or whatever, feel free to add me on Skype.
Instead of saying anything in reply, Castiel only nodded in understanding. Yawning, the former angel lifted a hand and rubbed at his eyes, tilting his head slightly as he did. “If you say so,” he mumbled, the tail end of his words coming out garbled when he yawned again.
"I do say so — trust me the second you’re not thinking about sleeping is when it happens. You’re eyes get too heavy to keep open anymore." With the life he led, Dean had just adapted to sleeping patterns that most people weren’t used to. Let alone angels that had never had to sleep in thousands of years.
"Oh. Alright." Castiel was silent then for a moment, thinking about what Dean had told him. If he didn’t think about sleep, he would sleep. Or at least, that’s the way he understood it. But then the question became, how did he stop thinking about sleep when that was all he wanted in the world right now?
Frowning to himself, the former angel resolved not to think about this conundrum. It only made his head hurt. “Dean.. Wi— Nevermind.”
"So uh.. Are you glad it’s the weekend?" He’s trying, and probably failing, to make conversation.
[Text:] Yeah I do.
[ Text; ] Auh—
[ Text; ] Good good. Because I do.
[ Text; ] Miss you I mean.
Misha Collins is my spirit animal.
Jensen’s reaction makes it even better