imagine meeting John Wick at a classic car show...
rock music drifts through the crisp air as you stroll amongst the rows of beautiful cars, admiring their gleaming paint jobs, when you spot a particularly eye-catching one parked at the end. it's a grey Mustang, and you're just drawn to it for some reason. it stands out amongst the others
you approach it, in awe at its pristine state. the owner obviously takes great care of it. you lean into the open window, smiling as you take in the gorgeous interior and leather seats. caught up in admiration, you don't notice the handsome older man approaching from behind. the owner of the sports car...john wick.
"like what you see?" a deep voice mutters, startling you. you quickly rise from the window and turn towards the voice.
"oh, I'm sorry sir! I just...really love your car," you say softly, cheeks heating up when you make eye contact with him. wearing a brown leather jacket, a simple black t-shirt, and dark jeans, he looks deliciously rugged.
he chuckles as he leans against his car, looking down at you.
"no worries, I appreciate it. she's my baby," he responds.
"I-it's a Mustang, correct? 1970...?" you ask as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, squirming under his intense gaze.
"close. she's a '69," he replies warmly. you nod in reply, too shy to speak, creating a bit of awkward silence. he digs into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys.
"wanna go for a spin?" he asks, "you seem quite intrigued by her," he says with a small smile.
your eyes widen at the prospect of riding in the beautiful vintage sports car with an even more attractive older man. you bite your lip before nodding excitedly.
"i'd love to...thank you, mister..."
"wick. john wick. But you can just call me john," he replies cooly.
he walks towards the passenger door, pulling it open for you. you give him a shy smile as you settle onto the cozy leather seat. your heart pounds as he walks around the car to the driver's side. you take in his handsome features as he enters, catching a whiff of his alluring cologne.
you blush at his eye contact.
the engine roars to life, and your heart flutters at the powerful vibrations pulsing through the car. you grip the cool metal of the inner door handle, bracing yourself for the ride.
"hold on tight," john utters gruffly as he presses on the gas.
