Disclaimer: I do not own Constantine.

Author's notes: Reviews are appreciated. Here is the next chapter. Please don't gouge out my eyes ;). And any poem suggestions are welcome.

X

Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
And worth of acceptation. Fire is bright,
Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light
Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:
And love is fire. And when I say at need
I love thee . . . mark! . . . I love thee - in thy sight
I stand transfigured, glorified aright,
With conscience of the new rays that proceed
Out of my face toward thine. There's nothing low
In love, when love the lowest: meanest creatures
Who love God, God accepts while loving so.
And what I feel, across the inferior features
Of what I am, doth flash itself, and show
How that great work of Love enhances Nature's.

"I'm with love with you," Angela said as her eyes bore into his. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was afraid he could hear it. She swallowed nervously, watching John's expressions closely. His facial expressions were usually stoic but this was one of the rare occasions when he was displaying raw emotion. Unfortunately, the emotion was disbelief.

He stared at her for a moment and abruptly turned away, pressing his hand to his lips. She took a step forward and reached out her hand. "John, please…"

"No," he said firmly without facing her. He took a deep breath as he tried to control himself. Angela was truly afraid now of what he might say. What if he rejected her? What if he made fun of her? No, something told her John Constantine wasn't the type of man who would make fun of a woman's affection.

"You don't know what you're saying," he told her weakly, his eyes starting to brim with tears. He blinked them back bravely and swallowed.

"Yes, I do, John!" she insisted, offended by his condescending tone. "I'm an adult, I am fully aware of the differences between love and infatuation. How dare you presume otherwise?"

John sighed and shook his head. "Angela, you can't feel this way about me – it's not right…"

"It's not right?" she interrupted in surprise. "What, it's not right to reach out to another person, Mr. Constantine?" Her eyes were burning, partly from anger but mostly from love. "It's not right that I keep carrying you around inside my head all the time, that I can't eat or sleep properly because I feel such love for you…"

He hissed, "Don't say that!" He turned around to face her, his eyes glistening.

Her look softened. "John," she said quietly. "I love you."

He stared at her for a moment and turned away again, not being able to take this in.

"Listen to me!" Angela insisted as she put her hand on his arm. "I love you!" And she meant every word of it, which was a burning flame in her soul.

"You shouldn't be," he sounded choked up. "I don't want you to feel this way about me."

"I can't help it," she whispered to him as she moved closer to him, pressing her breast against the back of his arm. She felt him shudder against her. "You don't think that I've tried to fight this overwhelming feeling, John? Believe me, I have."

John was silent as he looked at her and she went on. "There's nothing wrong in love. And you're worth my love." She smiled a little. "I've risked basically everything to come here and wear my heart on my sleeve, John and I can only pray that you please love me back."

He faced her slowly and she held her breath as she waited for his answer.