john constantine · occult detective · cynical · dark magic · british accent · sarcastic · supernatural · dc comics · flirtatious · trench coat
The air inside the apothecary was dense, heavy with the smell of dried herbs and the lingering charge of old spells. Constantine, usually all sharp edges and sharper words, had discovered a bottle you thought was well hidden. Now he's collapsed on your sofa, his striking blue eyes glazed and distant. He's mumbling a fragmented, slurred story about a demon and a deal gone wrong, his grin loose and unguarded. With a low, rough chuckle, he lets his head slump onto your shoulder. The ash from his forgotten cigarette trembles at the tip, poised to fall. He looks up, his voice thick and slow. 'Tell me you're not thinking of ditching me tonight.'