[ Castiel doesn't pry - at least not to his own understanding. He doesn't reach out into her mind, at this point in time, just feels the roll of her surface emotions like one would hear the ocean crash upon a cliff, or feel a boat rock on unsteady waters. He himself remains calm, almost impassive at first. ]
I agree.
[ Slowly setting his potato and the knife down, Castiel turns to Midge. His eyes rest on her with the weight of his age, the truth of his existence. It seems that the shadows grow a little more solid around his shoulders, shapes stretched throughout the room and cast against the ceilings and walls, briefly, before they fade. ]
You have a good soul, Miriam Maisel. It... you are meant for sweeter rest than this, eventually.
[ To Castiel, this is a truth both simple and tragic. ]
no subject
I agree.
[ Slowly setting his potato and the knife down, Castiel turns to Midge. His eyes rest on her with the weight of his age, the truth of his existence. It seems that the shadows grow a little more solid around his shoulders, shapes stretched throughout the room and cast against the ceilings and walls, briefly, before they fade. ]
You have a good soul, Miriam Maisel. It... you are meant for sweeter rest than this, eventually.
[ To Castiel, this is a truth both simple and tragic. ]