Cas's lazy smile faded and he pushed himself up to sit again. Sam was digging at the heart of him in a way that other people really hadn't, and his instinct was to flee. Disappear. Teleport away. Flap his wings and get the hell out. Human bodies were static and still and slow, and he felt trapped.
"What's wrong with wanting to be fun, relaxed, and hopeful?" he asked, scooting back on the table so he could lean against the wall. That was awfully optimistic of Sam, to think he ever really felt hopeful.