Re: Constantine + Filip
Filip thanked him for the cigarette: grudgingly but not ungratefully. "S'not that." He wasn't a great singer, but if Quentin had wanted to drag him up on stage, he would've gone. Provided there was a ramp. "My knees be killing me. Again.
"Pisses me off," Filip muttered, exhaling a puff of smoke away from John's face. "And there's million fucking stair in the new place. Gonna suck. Don't want it to suck." He sighed, shrugged, looked at John. "You in a better mood these days. How come?"