Another Kind of Memory
Author: FriendofCarlotta | Artist: Aggiedoll
Posting on Wednesday March 20
Since a traumatic incident six years ago, Castiel Novak’s face has been disfigured by a scar. He’s resigned himself to being someone people can barely stand to look at, let alone love.
Except his heart doesn’t seem to have gotten the message. When Dean Winchester takes over the convenience store down the street from Castiel’s bookshop, Castiel falls helplessly in love with his new neighbor.
To make matters worse, Castiel’s sister Anna is also interested in Dean. Believing that Dean could never love him, Castiel decides to help Anna win his heart instead.
Keep reading for a sneak preview!
“Hey,” Dean says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Just… wanted to say hi.”
“Oh. Hi,” Castiel says, one hand fluttering nervously down his face and across his hair in an attempt to ensure he’s looking presentable. The tips of his fingers catch on the ugly, jagged ridge of his scar, and he remembers that “presentable” stopped being an option six years ago. He clears his throat and arranges his face in the polite mask of a consummate customer service professional. “Anything I can help you find?”
“Um.” Dean looks uncertain now, as though it’s a question he wasn’t expecting — despite the fact that it’s easily the most predictable question one could be asked in a bookshop. “I don’t know. I was just gonna browse, I guess.”
This is the point in a customer interaction where Castiel would usually withdraw, because “I’m just browsing” is universal bookstore code for “leave me the fuck alone.” But Dean doesn’t give any sign of wanting to walk away. Instead, he simply hovers in front of Castiel’s armchair, eyes gliding aimlessly (and somewhat helplessly) across the shelves to his right.
“What sort of things do you like to read?” Castiel finds himself asking, because it’s impossible not to take pity on a grown man who is capable of looking so bashfully lost.
“Anything,” Dean says. One of his hands flies to the back of his neck, rubbing at it. There’s something terribly endearing about the gesture — perhaps the fact that it makes him look like a boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Belatedly, it occurs to Castiel that it’s his turn to speak. His prolonged silence appears to have made Dean nervous, because he’s speaking again, a little too quickly to be altogether natural. “I know that sounds stupid. Like those people who say they like all kinds of music — which I don’t, by the way, just to be clear. Big classic rock fan. Zeppelin, the Stones. Metallica too, which I guess is classic rock these days and fuck, that’s kind of depressing. But, yeah. Anyway. Pretty much anything. Love Vonnegut and Kerouac, but I’ve read just about all their stuff. I’ll read sci-fi, horror, mysteries… actually, I guess I should say I read all kinds of fiction. Non-fiction kinda puts me right to sleep. My brother, Sammy, he’s a big fan though. Crazy about true crime for some reason.” Dean blows out a heavy breath. He abruptly seems to realize he’s scratching at his neck and lowers his arm back down, fingers twitching as if unsure what to do with themselves now. “You probably didn’t need to know all that, huh?”
“No, this is helpful,” Castiel says, getting up. “I’ll show you the layout of the store so you can see which shelves you might be most interested in.”
Somehow, Dean’s shyness makes him feel more at ease. When he first laid eyes on Dean, he thought someone as handsome as Dean must be a smooth and confident conversationalist. But he doesn’t seem to be, and somehow, that makes it easier for Castiel to hold up his own end of the conversation.
Or maybe it’s just that Dean doesn’t know how to talk to someone like Castiel. He wouldn’t be the first one.
(continue reading on Ao3 on Wednesday March 20)
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