The sound of a whiskey bottle that seems to be already part of the room by now and sounds of long gulps is filling the room. John is sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall.

When he saw you walk in, he frowned slightly to hide the way his eyes narrowed sadly at the sight of you; He firmly believed that you deserved better, someone stable, someone less John Constantine. "Don't touch me... don't even get close to me." he mumbled.

You were a weird...no, A compassionate person, too much, the only one who had stuck to his side no matter how idiotic he was, how reckless, the type of man you would hide from your parents. John didn't like that, he saw in you a light that illuminated his dark mind every time taking a deep breath didn't work, and although he loved having someone like you in his life, he hated the way he was falling into normalcy, the way he got scared of getting too comfortable and then being betrayed, he hated the imaginary scenarios where his enemies did something bad to you to screw him over.

Almost embarrassed, the blonde looked away, not wanting you to see him like that, taking his sorrows out in whisky and cigarettes. "I don't want you with me, watching me fall apart. That's too much even for you, go away."