Keanu Reeves/ John Wick one shots

Love Me (Not) Pt.3

John Wick x Reader

John dragged himself towards the Continental, breathing heavily. His body ached and he was bleeding from a series of cuts across his face and some beneath his white shirt, though the worst one was a stab wound on his left thigh. John's hair was soaked in blood, sweat and London rain. He really wished he had rented a car. Too late now though. 

As he limped through the hotel's entrance, John headed straight for the concierge's desk, requesting the doctor. Quick and efficient, the young woman tapped a few keys on her computer and then assured him that the doctor would be at his suite shortly before asking if he had any other requests. 

After the elevator ride up to the tenth floor, John trudged towards his room, heading straight for the shower the minute he shut the door behind himself. By the time he was finished in the shower, the doctor, a middle aged greying man in boring tweed was at his door. John let him in wordlessly and allowed him to start working.

About an hour later, the stab wound on his thigh was stitched closed and most of the deeper cuts had been attended to. The doctor, who's name John didn't bother to catch, was long gone, still he lingered on the chair, slightly slouched, with a glass of bourbon. How he hadn't acquired alcohol poisoning yet had surprised him. He had been thinking about her less, as in, when he feel asleep drunk, he didn't dream of her, he didn't dream of anything. When he was working he was spared of the memories then too. But that was about it though, John spent almost every other waking second thinking of her, replaying their best memories, sometimes so vividly that he could almost hear her voice, feel her breath warm against his ear. He hated it, it was exhausting. He knew that he was probably nothing to Y/n, so why did she have to mean so much to him?

Y/n sat in her car, looking on at the house, it looked empty, but she couldn't know for sure. All the lights were off, she couldn't see if his car was in the garage. Though she lived in the city, just about an hour away from John, it had taken her months to get here. Inhaling deeply, she turned off the ignition and forced herself to take the short trek up to his front door. 

She rang the doorbell but there was no indication that anyone would be coming to the door soon. Maybe he wants you to work for it, the voice inside her head teased, though Y/n was mostly sure he wasn't, John's not that type. Though, he might be the type to have already moved on. Pressing the little silver button again, Y/n began to wonder at the reasons for why she was really at John's house past midnight on a Wednesday. Well, Thursday. It might be the fact that she was tired of not being able to sleep through the night. Or it could have been the two and a half bottles of wine. Maybe it was the fact that she always loved him and she was just to consumed with protecting herself that she destroyed the one good thing in her life. Maybe it was none at all or all three. She just knew that she wanted him back, if he would have her.

Admittance, the voice mused silently. Y/n had never said it, but she loved John, she had for a while now, even before that night on her balcony. For a third time, Y/n rang the doorbell but no one came. No one was coming because no one was there. That wasn't defeat though, she couldn't let this go yet. Turning on her heel, Y/n retreated to  the sleek silver Porsche parked at the curb, ready to head to the person who would know where she could find John.

"What are you doing here Y/n?" Winston asked, taking a sip from his martini, looking as smug as he usually did, "What are you hoping to accomplish?"

"I guess I missed you," she chuckled humorlessly until Winston offered her raised eyebrows and a stare that told her that he's seeing right through her façade, "Where is he?"

"I told him you'd come back, eventually," Winston leaned further into in plush armchair, and Y/n knew that his delays were just to build anticipation. Taking a large sip of the whiskey in her glass, she then decided it was safer to stare at whatever amber liquid remained, knowing that her hollowed eyes might give to much away. "I must say, it took longer than I anticipated. And John's done an exceptional job at not showing up at your doorstep."

Y/n swallowed thickly at the mention of his name, then proceeded to down the rest of her drink, reaching over to pour another. "How did you even get here Y/n?" Winston asked, a little amused.

"I drove." Her head felt even lighter than it had before and Y/n thought that if she saw him right then, she might have been confident enough to grovel her way back into John's life. "Why?"

Winston shrugged but there was evident concern in his eyes when she glanced up for a minute, "Was that really the best idea?"

"Why should you care?" Y/n rolled her eyes, "Just tell me where he is. Charon says he's not here but Dog is. So, where is he?" 

"You're drunk," he states flatly, reaching over the coffee table to move bottle out of her grasp.

Y/n frowns at his gesture, "Not drunk enough," her voice drops at those words and already she can feel the burning in her eyes. She wouldn't cry though, not there, not until she was somewhere where there was  no one to see it. "I'm never drunk enough."

Winston shook his head, "It's funny, 'cause he said that just before he left. Stay here tonight and I'll tell you where he is tomorrow. I'll have them book you a room."

Y/n slams the glass on the table, standing abruptly, "No!" Walking over to the fire place, she stuffed her hands into the pocket of her coat, "Tell me where he is," he couldn't see it, but Y/n hastily swiped at her eyes, "Please."

"You really think it's a good idea go wandering about an airport in your condition?"

"All I'm hearing is that he's not in state." When Y/n turned back to Winston, the fire behind her illuminated her form, matching the warmth that flowed through her. She had already decided that she would not spend the night at the Continental and that her search for reconciliation with John wouldn't end until she allowed it, and there wasn't a soul in to world that could change her mind. 

"Y/n," Winston warned, trying to reason with her.

"Don't," she pointed a warning finger, "Just tell me. And if you don't I'll find him some other way."

Finally, Winston relented, "Jonathan is in London. He'll be there for the rest of the week." Hurriedly, Y/n mumbled something that closely resembled a 'thank you', and started towards the door, as her fingers closed around the brass knob, Winston halts her with is final words, "Do be careful, for two people so alike, things are only bound to get worse before they get better."

A/n- Alrighty, so I know I said that this would be the last part (and really I intended it to be) but I didn't want it to get too long, so (and this is absolutely final) part 4 will be the last of this mini series. Thanks for reading!