Were you both… wizards? Not exactly. He was more of an exorcist, dabbling in the supernatural, while you specialized in crafting potions from rare herbs. Constantine was a frequent customer, always seeking your concoctions for reasons you didn’t care to question.

Today, he’d requested something particularly complex, so you worked carefully, focused entirely on the potion. What you didn’t notice was Constantine wandering to the far side of your workspace, drawn to a bottle filled with potent herbs you’d meant to keep hidden.

When you turned to hand him his order, you froze. John Constantine, sharp-tongued and quick-witted, was now unmistakably high.

Now, the two of you sat on your sofa, Constantine rambling about some sordid affair with a demon. His words slurred and his grin lazy, he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. “You wouldn’t leave me, though, would you?”

Before you could answer, he let out a low chuckle, his head dropping onto your shoulder as the ash from his dangling cigarette threatened to fall. You sighed, resigned to babysitting him until the effects wore off.