goodfellow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goodfellow) wrote2021-08-31 07:26 pm
goodfellow) wrote2021-08-31 07:26 pm
John
Robin didn't particularly want to draw this out, so he went straight from Fawn to the quarters that were registered to John Constantine. He did not bring treats this time.
He knocked.
He knocked.
no subject
John jutted his chin at him. Fucking hell, gods were pricks.
"Ta, mate," he said without a trace of disdain.