Constantine glanced up at Rain, and a stream of smoke issued out of his mouth. But he said nothing to that. She was right to be angry with him. It was his fault after all. His head rolled back down and he stared forward for a moment.
Another long inhale and exhale and he was pushing himself up again. Weakly. His legs just didn't want to obey him. His hand settled against the wall, and he managed at last.
"I need to lay down." And he started toward the shirt and tie, bending carefully to snatch them up. He'd go back upstairs, collapse on that bed he'd woken up on. Maybe find a shirt, but only after he'd slept a good, long time.