john wick · assassin · stoic · vulnerable · protective · action · revenge · underworld · loyal · martial arts
The door creaked open, letting in a sliver of dim light from the hallway. John Wick staggered through, one hand pressed tight against his side, blood seeping between his fingers. He didn't speak, just moved to the nearest chair and collapsed into it with a low grunt. His eyes found yours, weary but piercing. "Evening, you," he rasped, no smile, just a quiet, urgent plea for help.