still experimenting wit how i shade and render and stuff cuz im still figuring out how i like to do digital stuff so please take this kit . i need her to be real so bad i like her an ABNORMAL amount
Everything seems to be going great in your newfound relationship, hes kind, sweet and cute. Then you learn about Kit Ryan.
Angst with comfort, jealousy, stupidity mostly.
John, even if others claim otherwise, is a very loyal man. He doesn't cheat on his partners, maybe accidentally leads them to death or hurts them, but hes never unfaithful.
He really does love.
Y/N didn't question it for even a second. Hes charming, pretty and a funny bloke who is oh gods actually interested in her!
Its rare to find a bloke that makes you feel like you're a teenager at thirty seven. Even if he can be a mess hes awfully cute while being one.
Maybe its red tinted glasses but John Constantine? That's your man.
The heavy burden of rumors and whispers follow him, telling tales of horror and despair. As if its a long family curse passed trough generations, the ghosts of the dead screaming 'he will doom you!'.
She asked him once about it. He was reluctant to explain, not wanting to dig into his past, there being clearly something that could drive her away.
In all honesty, Y/N was satisfied with that.
Its not that she doesn't want him to open up and relieve his burdens but she wont force him to, especially if its something this vulnerable.
So she ignores it, only allowing herself to relax more and more into his spell. Those blue eyes, the pretty blonde hair, the accent?
Oh god you're so smitten it hurts.
So the mention of some Kit Ryan immediately breaks her focus.
One of his mates mentioned her at rhe pub, drunk and not thinking about the possible consequences. John was in the loo so she was left with the friend, curiously asking about who that Kit is.
"Oh the love of Johns life ya know? Pretty Irish lass, he was smitten. Couldn't get the bloke to focus for a second cause he was out there daydreamin' bout his pretty girl"
That?
That wasn't subtle.
It was harsh and nearly a insult, even if it wasn't meant to be.
Chas smacked the bloke over the head for saying it, giving him a look. Somehow hes the only one coherent enough to understand what kind of strain this just put on the newfound relationship of their friend.
Love of his life.
She isnt stupid. Hes had partners before, they're both adults with their fair share of expirience. Y/N can't be angry that he had a girlfriend that meant a lot to him before.
Still, hearing it from his friends? Irish beauty?
How can she measure up to that?
A few days passed of that thought lingering in her mind, pushing it down anytime he kisses her or holds her tightly the way he usually does.
She has nothing to be worried about.
Exes are exes for a reason afterall.
Shes laying on his bed, resting after a night of fun. Hes getting dressed, buckling his belt, putting his shirt on. John has something to deal with so he has to leave early.
"Why cant you stay a bit more? It's so cozy." she mutters, a small yawn leaving her lips. The sheets cover her bare body, a sleepy expression on her face.
Its early Saturday. She doesn't have to go to work.
"Ill be back in a jiffy luv, just have to get this done ight?" he taps his pockets, his brows furrowing as he looks around "ya see my wallet anywhere?".
Her brows furrow, looking around. Its possible that it fell out Yasterday. She reaches down, tapping the floor before feeling the leather underneath the bed.
"Here" she smiles, lifting it up.
He nods, moving over to take it.
Neither of them can anticipate what happens next.
A small picture falls out, landing on the sheets. She picks it up, her heart stopping. He pauses, his eyes growing wide, face pale.
The photo is of a black haired women with green eyes. Curly hair, nice features, pretty.
Suddenly the atmosphere changes drastically, before playful and dreamy turning to thick and downright terrifying.
She stares up at him, her expression growing tense and stern.
"Is this your sister?".
It better be.
John stares at her, frozen.
"I-" he knows how this looks like. His hands are raised almost defensively.
"Darlin, uh, I can explain.".
Everyone knows the best explanations start like that. I can explain. What kind of a start is that?
She sits up, the jealousy going trough the roof.
"Is this Kit?"
His eyes narrow, his mouth falling open "howd you know-"
"You stupid fuckin drunk mate told me. Yeah, told me all bout her. Love of yer life aye?".
He feels something stir inside of his chest when she says it, the dread only growing. Not only does she know about his ex but his mate seems to have gone off in great detail about it.
A great anger for his friend builds up in his chest, that fuckin idiot. Blabbing on about his past like its his to tell, creating a drift.
Its only broken by the realization that he isnt getting out of this easily.
The time spent thinking is cut short, only giving her the opportunity to yell some more.
"Why do you keep a bloody photo of your ex in your wallet John?!".
A wallet, the sacred space. Some men keep photos of their children in it, some keep their most valuable trinkets. Papers notes, depends.
Y/N doesn't care that she didn't earn the space yet, afterall they've been dating for what? Six, seven months?
"Cmon, i want to hear it. I wanna hear it. Cmon. Spill.".
He slowly sits down on the bed, his hands clasped tightly beetwen his legs. Sweat drips down his back, his heart thumping.
This mistake could cost him everything.
"I-" he clears his throat "I forgot it was there.".
Sadly its the truth. The painful stupid truth. He should've been more careful.
"Oh really? Forgot? How do you forget something like this?"
"I dont use my wallet all that much" he doesn't use it ever. Sure he keeps a few quid in there but really? He gets by in more mysterious ways.
That picture? Fuuuck....
She stares at him as if hes grown two heads, disbelief etched onto it.
"Are you kidding me?".
There's not only anger but also pain etched on her face.
He keeps a photo of the preclaimed love of his life in his wallet. The beautiful pretty women he once was with. Who his mate said that John would have given a lung for.
Is this insecurity?
It can't be. She has a reason to feel liks this doesn't she? Sure he... He loves her. He holds her, kisses her, comes by nearly everyday.
"I swear to- fuck to everythin', i forgot." he says, shifting closer, taking her hand. The way her eyes tear up uncontrollably makes his heart ache.
"Ts been a long time alright? Last time I was with someone... It was her. Three years ago alright? I forgot about the photo.".
Its rare that hes ever so sincere.
Not to mention panicked.
She sniffles, glancing down, feeling awful.
He swallows, looking her over, squeezing her hand tightly "It doesn't mean anything.". His eyes move to the photo, the memories of the pain and despair filling him. They come back, how much he loved Kit, how it all went to shit, a cruel reminder.
"Look at me." he says, taking the photo and folding it, hiding it away in his palm.
Her eyes flicker up, her lips trembling. His gaze is awfully sincere.
"You're telling the truth aren't you?".
John sighs, bringing her palm to his lips, kissing her knuckles. He cant say he didn't look at the picture at times but it wasn't anything recent.
"I loved her, that's the truth. I did love her." he whispers "but that's in the past. Even if she appeared at my door I wouldn't take her in. Not to mention she lives in Dublin now, far away." he sighs "Y/N... Im yours. Believe that.".
The words that leave his mouth are heavy, feeling a bit of fear as he says them. He knew Kit like a part of him, his other half. Now its a bittersweet memory. Something from the past that should be kept as it is and cherished for the good that it brought to him.
She stares at him, the tears sliding down her cheeks. Her face grows red, her nose snotty, a nearly childish cry leaving her.
Suddenly she feels stupid. How she reacted, how she attacked him. A part of her justifies it while the other hates for letting him see how insecure it makes her.
How is she supposed to compete with some pretty Irish lass? Someone he loved and cherished so much.
Could she be that person for him?
Can she even dare to think?
Realizing that she's spiraling John pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her bare body. He rubs her back, the other on the back of her head, keeping her close.
There isnt anything more he can say.
The truth is that Kit will always hold a special place in his heart. Maybe not necessarily romantic but the connection they had isn't one to be taken lightly.
Should you be worried? No.
Would he be? Yes.
"I love you." he whispers, pressing his nose against your hair "so much. Believe me. Please." he doesn't want to lose her too.
He's warm, the familiar smell of his cigarettes flowing her sensetions. She feels calmer when he holds her like this, safe. His arms fit against her perfectly. Somehow giving her a safe space where she feels protected.
He really does love her.
"Im sorry for freaking out" she mutters, burrying her face in his shoulder.
He chuckles lightly, sighing "don't worry bout it luv. I would too.".
Slowly he moves, bringing her down onto the bed, laying next to her now. His fingers trace her face, gently touching her nose, a act hes weirdly grown fond of doing.
A small chuckle leaves her, a smile growing on her face now.
Some would say shes being stupid but she isn't really. Maybe he hadn't said much but he said enough. She can feel the love in his gaze, in his actions. Afterall, he never gave her a actual reason to doubt him.
The photo? A accident.
Shes had people she cared about, the photos hidden in some boxes, locked away. But she could never throw them out. She loved one of her partners to such a uncontrollable degree aswell.
It takes time.
Her brows furrow, realizing something.
"Shouldn't you be on your way out?".
John pauses, his finger stilling. He thinks for a few seconds before shaking his head.
