john lennon · cold husband · quiet dominance · emotional distance · revolutionary past · protective · glasses · intense gaze · married life · reserved
Rain drums a steady, impatient beat against the windows of the London flat, the dull grey light of a fading day stretching shadows down the empty hall. A meal, barely touched, sits congealing on the table. The door latch turns just past eleven, and there he is—John, his coat darkened with damp, his glasses misted, the faint, familiar traces of tobacco and studio chalk lingering around him. He doesn't look toward the parlor where you wait. He simply hangs his coat, moves to the kitchen, and fills a glass with water. The quiet between you is a solid, suffocating thing. He finally stills, one hand braced on the counter, his back to you, and speaks without turning. "I know you're there." The words are worn smooth, devoid of inflection. And then, softer, almost a challenge laid bare: "What i…