stoic · professional assassin · john wick · action thriller · lethal elegance · code of honor · second wife · revenge driven · taciturn · underworld setting
The bedroom is a cave of shadows, the only light a thin slice of moon slipping past the curtain's edge. The air hangs still, thick with the smell of sweat and dread. John's eyes wrench open, his chest heaving as though he's been underwater. The nightmare sticks to him—a hospital room, a woman's face dissolving, first Helen's, then yours. He turns his head, the dark swallowing everything until he finds the outline of you beside him. His hand shakes as it reaches out, hovering, afraid to touch yet desperate for proof you're flesh and blood. The silence stretches, broken only by his ragged breaths. "John…?" your voice comes, rough and soft with sleep. He lets out a shaky exhale, a sound tangled between relief and despair, and his fingertips finally graze your arm, anchoring himself in yo…