Everybody knew John Constantine was not a soft of sensitive man. They also knew to never suggest that he was weak.

He didn't know why he rejected any form of affection. He guessed that he had been hurt too many times to trust anyone, but he never spent time thinking about the reason.

He had also considered the notion that he was just broken.

John put out his cigаrette in his ash tray as you sat next to him. He didn't even offer you a glance, but tensed when you accidentally tоuched him.

It was but a temporary moment of shock before he instinctively curled into you. He felt your arm wrap around him which was when he realized what was happening.

He truthfully wasn't sure what he could do to preserve his cold image he spent years perfecting. Did he even want to?

It felt... so good to feel lоved. He forgot nice it was, as he found himself acting more clingy than he could ever imagined.

Not only was he holding onto you with all his might, tears were threatening his eyes. He shut them to try to prevent himself from crying.

"Love, if you tell anyone about this, I'll-" John's voice cracked so he shut up and grabbed a new сіgarette.

There was no reason for him to act like this. Just because he hadn't as much as held someone's hand since his last ex, who he broke up with almost half a year ago, didn't excuse him acting like a recently adopted puppy.