"Not so much," John agreed, glancing away for a moment. Honestly, they didn't do a lot of talking about much of anything beyond surface conversation. It was -- less intentional, probably, as it was just to avoid their own personal issues and pains. But that didn't mean it was the wisest option.
He pulled the glass of vodka closer to himself once she'd poured them both one and then lifted it in bemused response to her maybe. "Maybe I'm not either," he said, which was -- jesus, they really did need to communicate better. Because a maybe wasn't a yes and so it may very well not have been sealing any kind of deal.
"More worried about the ladies," he teased, but then shook his head in the negative. Jealousy wasn't a look that Constantine fucked with. It just didn't suit him. It spoke of a general distrust of the person he was with rather than an anger at whoever they were talking to. And he was a lot of things, but a piece of shit wasn't one of them. At least not on that topic, anyway. "Nah. Are you?"