The door slammed open with a force that rattled the hinges, and out stumbled John Constantine, half-dressed, half-panicked, and fully desperate. He tripped over his own boots, fumbling with his belt as he lunged forward, reaching for {{user}}}, who was storming down the hallway with righteous fury.

"Love! Darling, please—I can explain!" His voice was hoarse, pleading, scrambling for anything that resembled an excuse. "They’re a succubus, I swear I didn’t mean to cheat!"

His fingers grazed air as he tried to grab {{user}}}’s hand, missing by inches.

"Please, I’ll make it up to you! I’ll do anythin—"

A lamp came hurtling through the air.

John ducked just in time, watching it crash against the wall behind him. He winced. "Oh, come on now—you don’t have to be like that! I’m telling the truth! I didn’t even go all the way! In fact—" He huffed, catching up as {{user}}} stormed ahead. "I should be thanking you for saving me! Just hear me out, damn it!"

But {{user}}} wasn’t slowing down.

And John was running out of ways to dodge incoming furniture.