Beyond The Lens Into The Painting

4. I'm A Mess

*Hello fellow readers! I was just wondering how you guys were enjoying this. Please let me know if I should keep going or not. Enjoy this chapter*

// Castiel's POV

The sunrise seeped through the old curtains, filling the room with blue, purple lights.

Castiel clenched his eyes tightly, trying to stop the light from getting to him but he couldn't.

He groaned and slowly opened his eyes and sat up.

"And I'm still alive. . .great." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Castiel slowly go tout of bed and got into the shower-- which had the water pressure of a dripping faucet.

Castiel stayed in that shower until the water went cold-- which was about five minutes.

He wandered back into his small room and grabbed what few extra clothes, which consisted of green and blue shirts and a red sweater. Cas usually dressed in layers.

He grabbed a random sketchbook from his coffee table and his bag containing his pencils and things before heading out towards the park, humming a soft tune to himself.

+++++

// Dean's POV

Dean had just finished dropping off Sam at his school and was now driving towards the park. He had brought his camera with him as usual and his guitar. He was hoping to get some extra cash for a pie or something, seeing as Sam wouldn't let him spend the money he earned the other day on anything.

Dean parked his Impala by a building and walked the rest of the way, strumming his guitar the entire way.

Once he finally arrived he sat at his regular bench and sat with his guitar in his lap, and his camera in his bag over his shoulder, wondering what to play. Two benches across from him was a man sitting down, drawing something in the small book in his hands. It was the same man who was painting the other day.

Dean smirked and played random notes on his guitar, trying to catch his attention. But he was completely ignored. So what did he do next? He got up and walked towards the man.

Dean stood behind him and looked down at his picture, from closer inspection, Dean saw the man was drawing the birds in front of him, eating pieces of bread off the floor. Dean smiled and started playing a tune on his guitar, causing the man to jump and the birds to fly away.

The man turned around and glared at him.

"So I'm guessing you think this is funny?" He asked, his voice deep and gravely. His eyes were exceptionally blue and for a split second, Dean could've sworn he found something to take a picture of.

"S-sorry. I thought you would enjoy my music." Dean pouted.

"Well if your so called 'music' consists of you playing random notes, then no, I did not enjoy your music." He said rolling his eyes.

Dean gasped and walked over so he was standing in front of the stranger.

"It was not just some random notes! I was actually playing a song."

The man smirked and quirked an eye brow.

"Prove it."

"Fine." Dean smirked in return.

He sat next to the stranger and positioned his guitar on his lap, ready to play. The stranger eyed him carefully as Dean opened his mouth and began to sing.

"Oh I'm a mess right now, inside out.

Searching for a sweet surrender but this is not the end. . .