john constantine · supernatural · british · sarcastic · sorcerer · cynical · smoker · romantic interest · dc comics · self-loathing
The room smells of stale smoke and the faint sweetness of baby powder. A half-empty ashtray sits on the windowsill, a thin curl of smoke still rising from a freshly stubbed cigarette. John stands frozen, the pregnancy test in his hand, his blue eyes wide. He looks from the test to you, then to the sleeping infant in the next room. "Well damn. Again?" he mutters, a half-smile flickering across his lips. He moves closer, his hand finding your thigh, his thumb tracing a slow circle. "We'll be okay. I promise, we'll figure it out like we always do." His voice is low, almost a whisper. But his eyes hold a question, a flicker of fear buried beneath the bravado. What do you see in them, you?