You exited your apartment, instantly aware of the icy feel to the winter air as it filled your lungs as you breathed it in. You tightened your coat and scarf around yourself, beginning to walk down the street when you felt a buzz in your pocket. You paused on the side of the street and fished your phone out of your pocket with your gloved hand. You looked down at the message in confusion, reading the text message from Matt.
Send help.
Your eyebrows creased in concern. He wasn't usually the type of person to text you - he was more of a fan of voice notes or calls, partially because it was nicer hearing those than his usual robotic-sounding screen reader, and that it was quicker for him instead of typing. That was only the first red flag. The second of course, was the fact that he was Daredevil. He had a lot of enemies. When he asks for help, it scared you. He'd be on the brink of actual death before he'd admit that he needed help - flag three. You quickly dropped your phone back into your pocket, almost missing the pocket entirely. You turned on your heel, changing direction as you rushed over to his apartment, hoping silently that he was okay, trying to reassure yourself repeatedly.
You ran up the stairs to Matt's apartment, and tried to calm your racing heart, trying to catch your breath as you walked down the corridor to his place. You tried to compose yourself as you stood in front of his door, tucking some of your hair behind your ear - despite it not even really being in your eyes. You had to compose yourself around Matt a lot. Even when he didn't send you ominous text messages. You opened the door, walking further in until you could have a clear view of his apartment.
"Matt?" You called out, eyes skimming around the room, unable to find him. It had gotten quite dark by the time of your arrival, despite the fact it had only just turned 5pm.
"Hey." He said, exiting his bathroom, closing the door behind him. You instantly relaxed when you saw him. He didn't seem to have any obvious or life-threatening injuries, which is the only thing you could think of when you had received his text. A few close calls with Matt’s life had apparently conditioned you to think of the worse case scenario immediately.
"Are you okay?" You asked as he walked over to you. He shook his head,
"I'm in a bit of a... situation." He said.
"Oh?" You queried. He reached over your shoulder, and you heard as the light switch clicked as Matt flipped it on, illuminating the room and himself. He was standing a lot closer to you than you had thought, and he -
Oh.
His dark maroon t-shirt was covered in flour, which had somehow made its way onto his face and hair too, leaving only a slight sprinkling on his trousers. You raised an eyebrow,
"A 'situation'?" You repeated, looking up at his face, amusement evident in your voice. He nodded once.
"Yeah." He said, straightening his mouth in an effort to conceal his embarrassment.
He was failing.
You felt a smile grow on your face as you fully took in the scene. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, covered in flour. The man who could intimidate many high-up criminals just by walking into a room. The man who has single handle taken down whole criminal organisations. You felt a laugh rise in your chest as you leaned against the wall beside you.
"Don't laugh." He said with mock-seriousness. You cleared your throat, trying to kill the giggle bubbling in your chest. It only got harder to suppress when you noticed the trail of flour that lead from the kitchen area.
"I mean it." Matt insisted, shifting from one foot to the other anxiously. You shook your head,
"What? Me, laugh at you? Never." You said, clearing your throat again, trying to hide your smile. Despite your best efforts, a giggle escaped. Matt took another step towards you, closing the space, effectively killing your laughter. You tried to keep calm, but felt your heart respond. You hoped he hadn't noticed. The smirk that appeared on his face quickly afterwards proved otherwise. Trying to resist the urge to hide, you raised your hand to his face and gently brushed away the worst of the flour off his cheek, causing his smirk to morph into a warm smile.
"What's up?" You asked. He let out a small chuckle, taking a step back.
"Right. So I can cook and bake and all that, but I don't exactly make a habit of it." He explained,
"Okay..." You responded after a moment of silence, pulling your scarf off. He gestured to you to turn around, so you complied and unzipped your coat.
"I thought I'd make some gingerbread." He said, helping you to take off your coat.
"Any particular reason why?" You asked curiously. You couldn't remember any other time Matt had wanted to bake, so this was all new to you. Matt took your scarf from you and hung it up beside your coat. He scratched the back of his neck anxiously.
"Karen convinced me." He said, "Said it would be good to distract me from... various things." You hummed in agreement. Matt had seemed to have been very stressed recently. Foggy had said it was partly because Matt was trying to cope with how he felt about you, which you had denied. After all, it was Foggy who said Matt had a flirtatious personality when you had first met. That's all it was, right?
You hoped you were wrong.
"Did you want help with it?" You asked. He nodded,
"If you could. I've already wasted too much of the ingredients. You don't have to, of course."
"Of course I'll help you, Matt." You said, smiling. "Lead the way." You instructed, following him to the kitchen area and dumping your gloves on the back of his sofa.
It was the first time that you could see the extent of the mess in his kitchen. If you were being honest - it looked quite bad.
"What happened?" You asked, approaching the mixing bowl he had used, noticing that it was still empty, despite the mess of flour everywhere else.
"Uh... Stress?" He answered. You turned to study his face.
"Stress did this?" You asked. He shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"And maybe a bit of... inexperience when it comes to opening packets of flour." He said. You nodded, lost in thought. You weren’t used to seeing the clumsier side of Matt. Usually, at least when he was around you, he seemed calm and collected. It was endearing for sure.
You found a quick recipe online, as he had apparently not even got that far yet. It did make you wonder why he called for your help so quickly, but you dismissed the thought. If you needed to, you could ask him about it later. For now, you'd just bake gingerbread cookies with him. Matt held the bag together as you weighed out the flour that you needed, trying to make sure that the massive rips in the bag didn't lead to another disaster. Despite trying your best, your black t-shirt had ended up with a Matt Murdock-sized handprint above your hip from when he passed by you to preheat the oven. You couldn't help but feel that what he did was intentional, but you could still feel yourself in denial over what Foggy had suggested. You melted the syrup, sugar, and butter together, causing a nice smell to drift into the air, mixing with the spices that Matt was adding to the flour. You poured your mixture into the mixing bowl gently, and then handed Matt a wooden spoon.
"And mix." You instructed, leaning against the countertop. He raised his eyebrows.
"I have to mix it?" He questioned.
"Yep." You said, watching his face. The corner of his mouth turned up.
"And why's that, then?" He prompted.
"I don't know. You tell me, Daredevil." You teased. He chuckled as he began mixing. One hand firmly holding the bowl in place, the other tightly grasping the spoon as he swirled it around, arms both flexing.
"So it's discrimination?" He asked.
"Against vigilantes that dress up like the devil?" You clarified. He nodded,
"Yes."
"Yes, then." You cheerily responded, pushing your weight back onto your feet before walking to the other side of Matt, gently brushing your hand against his back as you passed. You examined the dough as Matt continued to mix it, deciding that it was almost time to roll out the dough. You washed your hands again after clearing the surface, ready for it to be dusted. You grabbed a small handful of flour and sprinkled it over the table, instructing Matt on what to the recipe said to do next. His kitchen was short on baking supplies, so you had to compromise with what he did have. You placed the dough into the fridge and closed the door, turning around to see Matt placing your drinks on the table, in front of the sofa. He had also apparently taken the time to plump the pillows up for you. Cute.
You sat beside him on the sofa, grabbing your drink before taking a few sips. The room remained silent for a few minutes, before you decided to ask a question that had come to your mind.
"Is this a date?" You asked him. He straightened his posture slightly, as if the question was entirely unexpected.
"Do you want it to be?" He asked. You thought about it for a moment, trying to form your thoughts into a coherent sentence.
"No, I don't think so." You answered, causing a look of disappointment to cross Matt's features. "Not like that!" You said quickly, hoping to interject before he jumped to any more conclusions. "I just meant... If we did go on a date, I'd want to be prepared so I could know and... give a good impression?" Probably should have started with that. Matt smiled,
"You already give a good impression." He responded. You took a nervous sip of your drink, trying to seem calm. Considering he could hear your heart, you had probably already failed.
"I'm covered in flour." You responded.
"So am I." He said, leaning slightly towards you. "Maybe then we could give a first date another go later this week, or date two?" He asked.
"I'd like that." You responded. Now your heart was fluttering.
An hour had gone by before you had even noticed it. Matt had spent the whole hour talking with you, and the two of you were so distracted that it was only when the timer began to ring that you realised it was time to return to baking. You grabbed the cooled dough from the fridge as Matt set up the counter for cookie cutting. Matt had borrowed a gingerbread man cookie cutter from Karen, which is what the two of you planned on using. You stood directly by the gingerbread, and Matt stood behind you. He held the cookie cutter in his hands, and you placed your hands on top of his, which were much warmer in comparison to yours. Matt made a small comment about how cold your hands were before the two of you began cutting the gingerbread. Your hands guided the placement, and Matt would actually cut the dough. One efficient team, you thought. After all of the dough had been cut, Matt brought the first tray over to the oven. You grabbed two bits of scrapped dough and added horns to one of the gingerbread men, before Matt put the second tray in the oven. Waiting for the gingerbread to cook had passed similarly to the first wait, though you had ended up leaning against him tiredly. The strong scent of ginger floated through the air, filling the space with a new warmth and comfort. Matt had taken the gingerbread men out of the oven, letting you stay relaxed, wrapped in one of his jackets as the temperature continued to drop into the night. He returned with the gingerbread men piled on one plate in one hand, and drinks in the other. You took your drink from him,
"Thanks." You said as he sat down, placing the gingerbread men on the table. He returned your thanks by flirting in response, causing you to blush. You tried to distract yourself by picking up a gingerbread man for you, and the gingerbread devil for Matt, which had turned out surprisingly perfect. You handed it to him.
"What's this?" He asked, gingerbread horns poking into his fingers.
"A gingerbread devil." You responded, biting your cookie. He smiled,
"Obviously." He agreed, smile growing.
"Do you like gingerbread?" You asked him, wondering how his enhanced senses would perceive it. He shrugged,
"Not particularly." He took a small bite of one of the horns.
"Then why make them?" You asked curiously, resting your legs against his.
"It's winter, and... Karen suggested it. I was going to make them for you." He admitted, taking a sip of his drink. That took you by surprise.
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to ask you on a date. Didn't exactly go to plan either. I was thinking about you at the time, so my first thought was to call you."
"That's so cute." You said, large grin on your face. He shook his head, "No, it definitely is." You said, resting your hand on his lap.
"Is that a good thing at least?" He asked. You nodded enthusiastically,
"Very good." You responded, earning a happy smile from Matt. You cuddled into his side, and he gently wrapped his arm around you.