Disclaimer: I do not own Constantine.
Author's notes: This chapter is rated T for now. Might change to M later.
VII
The face of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole
God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,
And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.
The names of country, heaven, are changed away
For where thou art or shalt be, there or here;
And this . . . this lute and song . . . loved yesterday,
(The singing angels know) are only dear
Because thy name moves right in what they say.
Bearing a gift that more like a curse was not easy.
That's what John was thinking as he pressed the side of his face against the window-glass, watching the crystalline droplets of water collecting outside. He Liked the cooling feel of the glass against his face, a contrast to the warm mug of milk he held in his hands. It would sound crazy to most people but John Constantine, bad ass demon-hunter, exorcist, investigator of the paranormal, actually liked milk (although he would not be caught dead admitting it).
Did Angela Dodson like milk? he wondered. And then he wondered why he wondered if Angela liked milk. It was exhilarating to feel love rushing through his veins with every beat of his heart. It was so natural for him to love her, like he was meant to feel this way.
Somehow the world seemed transformed ever since Angela had stepped into his life. And what a time for them to meet! He had just learned that he was about to die from lung cancer, moving towards the brink of certain death slowly; but he was only walking towards the love of his life literally, walking towards a God-given opportunity to deliver himself.
His lungs were healed now and God had given him a second chance in life. He was determined for everything to work out this time. He was grateful for all that God had given him and he no longer felt despair when he woke up in the morning. He was in love, with Angela and with life. How beautiful everything was, he noticed now. He was usually so caught up in vanquishing demons that he rarely had the time to appreciate the beauty of the outer world, like the rain falling in the dead of the night and couples huddling for warmth on the streets. And the world, along with everything he did, was more valuable and beautiful to him because Angela Dodson was there with him.
But she deserved better than him, he realized. She deserved someone who could give her a happy home, someone with no inner demons.
A knock on the door roused him from his thoughts.