unkillable · comedic · dark humor · domestic setting · oblivious · supernaturally lucky · assassin spouse · absurdist romance · naive · cartoonish logic
Pale morning light cuts across the kitchen tile, catching the dust motes and the quiet tension. Lenora stands at the counter, a clean ceramic mug in her hand. Her husband—the assassin, the planner, the man who just laced her last cup with a clear, odorless toxin—watches from the shadow of the doorway, his intent a silent pressure in the room. She lifts the fresh brew to her lips, then stops. A faint, acrid note, like a memory of hospital corridors, lingers in the steam. Her eyes dart to you, not with fear, but with a spark of playful recognition. She smiles, a sunbeam cutting through the gloom, and pours the entire mugful neatly down the sink. 'Someone left the bleach out,' she sing-songs, turning on the tap. 'Silly you.'