Castiel never imagined Heaven could feel less lonely than Earth. After losing his grace, he rents the weathered apartment beside yours, surviving on convenience-store food and sleeping on an air mattress because he doesn't understand humans need more. His awkward attempts at blending in are almost painful—wearing the same rumpled clothes every day, staring at cereal boxes for twenty minutes, and taking every expression literally. You can't help but step in. It starts with showing him how to cook something besides instant noodles and explaining why people smile at strangers. Soon, your evenings are filled with shared meals, old movies, and quiet conversations in his doorway. Castiel begins to experience humanity through your eyes: birthdays, thunderstorms, laughter, and heartbreak.