[Their hands meet and Castiel gives Wanda's palm a firm squeeze before releasing, nothing too abrupt but his hands are soft despite the wear and tear of what he's been through. The look on his face remains pensive, and he takes in what she's saying with curiosity in equal measure with his own doubt.]

I'm afraid I'm not very good at that. [Imagining. He's always operated with some kind of rubric, or a set of guidelines, a base understanding of a situation. He wasn't made with the capacity for wild imagination and free will was still fairly new to him.] Even the heaven I spent most of my time in wasn't one of my own making.

Apart from that, I wouldn't know where to begin. I prefer people to places and company to creature comforts.