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John Constantine can teach you about magic. (_constantine_) wrote in snapthread,

Peter B | Constantine | Claire
“Are we dating?” Constantine asked, curious and a little teasing both — but yeah, he supposed they all were. This was meant to be a good outting. Some kind of date that was going to lead to something more than strip poker and too many drinks that had started for a bad reason. He’d been bloody looking forward to doing something that’d feel fun and normal — but not too normal. Their own weird style of it.

But instead they were here, making a home with ghosts. And John wanted to look at them, at the both of them, but he turned back to his writing, laid a palm flat against it and murmured a few words under his breath — when he turned his hand next, the entire area in front of them flashed bright momentarily. “Fuck off,” he murmured to the ghost who’d been creeping up the stairs — now detained by something more sturdy and steadfast than it’s own hate.

John was — this was the shit he was good with. Which was something of a shame because now his hands were freed up for a while and he could turn around, he saw Claire was crying and it was…

It felt fucking bad, was what it felt like. “You’re alright, loves,” he murmured, glancing away and pulling out his cigarettes. Claire would probably appreciate one about now.