"You know enough," Constantine answered. "Do you really think you could follow cues and scripts once I started to touch you?" There was something almost playful in the words, and I turned my head to look at him. He was still eerie, those metallic eyes bouncing back the stage lights, his body moving in one jerk after another, but I'd grown used to those features this week. We'd been close during rehearsal and he'd spoken softly. He hadn't touched me again, and sometimes I was grateful, and other moments I hated the waiting.
