He hates this kind of day.
Days when nothing seems to be going according to plan and all went to hell. Days when his head is so messed up he’s having trouble standing up, and is struggling not to lashed out at innocent civilians.
It was supposed to be good, today was. He mapped out his day off and he was sure he would finally get to relax and enjoy life for what its worth for once. It started out nicely, too.
Then that swamp thing shows up and everything went to hell.
Now, he’s left alone, shivering on the remains of a lighthouse after a fight that destroyed half of said lighthouse. It give him little protection from the rain and the chill, so he’s mostly drenched. He had no illusions that he looks nowhere near flattering right now, and no one in their right mind would even dream of coming near him.
Still he longs for company, one in particular.
He wish she was here, so it’s not this quiet. She would rant and cussed and kick his ass for bringing this upon her, but she’ll stay with him until the rain cease and they could finally leave.
But she’s not here, and though odds are she’s going to come if he asks, he still doesn’t have the guts. To actually dial her number and call her up.
To experience comfort and sparks of happiness.
Hia darkened desire would only taint her, and she deserves nothing but the best, of the world in her feet. Nothing that he would ever be able to give her. Besides, he had known better than to get people involved his predicaments.
Because he bring nothing but the Lady Death to their door. An adversary that he’s sure even Elsa Bloodstone would not be able to fend off.
So he’ll stay on his own in this heartless rain, even if he have nothing but a pack of cigarettes and his own convoluted thoughts to keep him company..
That is what John Constantine do, anyway.
À la mort,
Prompt: Adhitia Sofyan’s Deadly Storm Lightning Thunder.
“And maybe a deadly storm will come and catch you. Lightning thunder will strike you. It hits your head so hard you’ll come to me.”