Staying up late boggles the Mind - Constantine
Author's Notes: Constantine isn’t mine. Don’t claim it is. Just like the fandom.
Staying up late boggles the Mind…
Angela had learned to laugh after Isabel’s death. After Mammon…
John was still having problems.
He hadn’t learned at all. Optimism gets you killed.
Though, it seemed, that happiness could be within reach of them both.
How, you ask?
Simple. About three pots of espresso. Makes a person giddy.
“So,” Angela explained, “Izzy and I just come tearing around this corner, and I just run into this door smack and I had a bump there for weeks. Well, at school, I’d just broken up with this guy…God, I can’t remember his name…and whenever someone asked me where I got the bump, I just said he hit me. Got a bad reputation that year. Nobody wanted to date him, it was really hilarious. All these girls kept giving him dirty looks in the hallway. He didn’t even know half of them.”
John was curious.
“What happened to him?”
“Turned out gay.”
John chuckled, pausing, chalking it up to the espresso. Waay too much, at waay too late in the night.
He got up to get more espresso, though. Damn stuff was addictive.
“So…kinda strange, us meeting in the hall, huh?”
“Yep. Real strange, what with you walking in the hall, overloaded with a bag of stuff. Definitely strange.”
Angela smiled. Okay, so he’d caught it. She wanted to see him…
“How’ve you been, John?”
John stopped.
“What?”
“How’ve you been? Since…everything…” she shrugged slightly.
How else could I be? Yeah, sure, I liked the kid. He’s dead now, what can I do about it?
“How am I supposed to be?”
That answered her question. She knew that, despite everything, he stil blamed himself, somewhat, for Chaz’s death.
“I was just wondering how you were…you seem to be handling it okay…never mind.”
She was actually confused as to what she was trying to get at. Thankfully though, John didn’t press the matter.
“More coffee?”
“Please.”
He came in to grab her cup, putting down his own.
Then, she got a chance to look at him. He was actually looking better. Not as pale as before. He hadn’t taken up smoking again, either.
Some primitive part of her wondered what his stamina was like…what he was like…
She blinked, and quickly looked at the floor.
Staying up late boggles the Mind…
Angela had learned to laugh after Isabel’s death. After Mammon…
John was still having problems.
He hadn’t learned at all. Optimism gets you killed.
Though, it seemed, that happiness could be within reach of them both.
How, you ask?
Simple. About three pots of espresso. Makes a person giddy.
“So,” Angela explained, “Izzy and I just come tearing around this corner, and I just run into this door smack and I had a bump there for weeks. Well, at school, I’d just broken up with this guy…God, I can’t remember his name…and whenever someone asked me where I got the bump, I just said he hit me. Got a bad reputation that year. Nobody wanted to date him, it was really hilarious. All these girls kept giving him dirty looks in the hallway. He didn’t even know half of them.”
John was curious.
“What happened to him?”
“Turned out gay.”
John chuckled, pausing, chalking it up to the espresso. Waay too much, at waay too late in the night.
He got up to get more espresso, though. Damn stuff was addictive.
“So…kinda strange, us meeting in the hall, huh?”
“Yep. Real strange, what with you walking in the hall, overloaded with a bag of stuff. Definitely strange.”
Angela smiled. Okay, so he’d caught it. She wanted to see him…
“How’ve you been, John?”
John stopped.
“What?”
“How’ve you been? Since…everything…” she shrugged slightly.
How else could I be? Yeah, sure, I liked the kid. He’s dead now, what can I do about it?
“How am I supposed to be?”
That answered her question. She knew that, despite everything, he stil blamed himself, somewhat, for Chaz’s death.
“I was just wondering how you were…you seem to be handling it okay…never mind.”
She was actually confused as to what she was trying to get at. Thankfully though, John didn’t press the matter.
“More coffee?”
“Please.”
He came in to grab her cup, putting down his own.
Then, she got a chance to look at him. He was actually looking better. Not as pale as before. He hadn’t taken up smoking again, either.
Some primitive part of her wondered what his stamina was like…what he was like…
She blinked, and quickly looked at the floor.