Chapter 15
My heart was thundering all the way up in my throat when I exited the elevator onto the sixth floor of Matt’s apartment building. Pausing to try to calm myself a bit, I could see his front door from the end of the hall. Knowing that he could probably hear my heart racing nervously right now only further increased its pace despite my efforts.
Exhaling a slow breath, I anxiously headed down the hall and stopped in front of his door. I swallowed hard, raising a clammy hand to knock twice against it. I heard footsteps just beyond the wall before the telltale click of the locks turning, and then Matt was standing there dressed in a black tee-shirt and dark jeans. His hair looked tousled as if he’d been nervously dragging his fingers through it and his dark glasses were on his face and hiding his eyes.
“Hey,” I breathed out.
“Hey,” he answered back.
A faint smile pulled up the corners of my mouth, unable to help myself. A week without Matt had been torture after the weeks I’d had him in my life again. The corners of his own mouth tugged upwards as he stepped to the side, gesturing for me to step inside. I did, nervously playing with the hem of my blouse as I walked through the entry hall that suddenly felt longer than I remembered it being.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Matt asked as he followed behind me.
“No, I’m good. Thanks,” I answered softly.
I made my way to the leather couch, carefully settling onto one side nervously. Matt slowly made his way around the back of the sofa and took a seat on the opposite end. I felt my heart skip at the physical distance he’d put between us but I said nothing. I hoped it didn’t mean anything more than him being nervous and unsure himself.
Turning on the couch to face Matt a bit better, fingers still playing with the hem of my blouse, I cleared my throat. I couldn't stand the tension hanging in the air.
"How was your week?" I asked timidly.
He situated himself to face me better now as well, tucking one leg up onto the couch cushions before him as he leaned back into the armrest. He smiled gently but I could see how tense his body was.
"It was–was alright,” he stammered.
I glanced down, heart stuttering in my chest. “Really?”
There was a long pause as I stared at my feet. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I tried to keep my body relaxed. Did he really not miss me this entire time?
“No,” he answered eventually. “No, it was awful.”
My head snapped up at his words, my body going still. The left side of his mouth was downturned, his lips pressed together like he was trying to hold back tears.
“I could barely focus on anything else all week,” he admitted. “All I could think about was you.” He let out a humorless chuckle, his covered gaze dropping down to his own lap. “I think I annoyed Foggy with how useless I’ve been at the office.”
My fingers curled around the hem of my blouse, balling it nervously in my hands. “I spent most of my week thinking about you, too," I confessed quietly. "And crying. Mostly on my shower floor. Or my bed.” Matt’s mouth twisted even more at my words, looking like he was fighting a losing battle with his own emotions. “When I wasn’t, you know, talking to or photographing or editing photos of happy, in love couples.” A sad smile ghosted across my face briefly, my eyes shifting down and focusing on my fidgeting fingers. “You know wedding photography sometimes is a terrible career choice when your own love life is messed up.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
My gaze slowly returned back to him on the end of the couch. His dark brows were dipping down behind his glasses as he stared back at me.
I shrugged a shoulder. “I still enjoy it.”
Matt shook his head roughly. “No, Em, I mean I’m sorry I hurt you,” he told me. “It’s the one thing I never wanted to do.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I said softly. “For how I reacted. For hurting you, too.” I sighed, one of my hands raising to tuck my dark hair behind my ear. “I just–I don’t know what you want, Matt. What are we doing? How does this work? Do you even know?”
Matt readjusted the glasses on his nose as his attention shifted back down to his lap. “You remember when you first came back out to Josie’s?” he asked me. “Those few weeks back? When Daredevil–when I found you on the roof of your brother’s apartment building? You asked me if it ever feels like it’s too much?” He paused, a hand running across his mouth slowly. “You said you felt like you were drowning.”
“Yeah,” I answered. “I remember.”
He nodded lightly. “I feel that, too,” he confessed. “I think–” he inhaled a shuddering breath, “–The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen left Matt Murdock to drown in his own pain a long time ago. And he’s just been…there. Drowning. For years. And he–he comes up for air sometimes,” he continued, voice tight. “When I’m at Josie’s with everyone. Spending time with friends. When I’m with you.” His head rose, one of his hands reaching up to pull off his dark glasses. His eyes were resting along my left shoulder looking pinched and watery. “But these last few weeks with you, after I–I told you how I felt. I feel like you just somehow dove headfirst into wherever Matt Murdock was drowning and pulled him out. Brought him back to life.”
I felt a tear roll down my cheek and I quickly reached up, wiping it away. I had never known Matt felt this way.
“I think,” he continued, his mouth trembling a little, “I’ve been this whole other thing for so long that I never focused on a future for Matt Murdock. What he wanted never mattered.” He bit his bottom lip for a moment, his eyes boring into me now with a fervid intensity that had me holding my breath. “But I spent this week trying to figure it out. And it hurt feeling like I lost you again. Like I’d never hear your voice again, talk to you again. And I knew–I know–that I want you, Em.” He shook his head slowly. “Daredevil doesn’t have a future, I always knew he never did. And I always thought I was okay with that, that Matt Murdock wouldn’t have one either. But I–I realized I want one. With you. Now I can’t–can’t promise I know how to do this,” he confessed. “Because I don't, Em. I have never had a relationship, not with The Devil of Hell's Kitchen in my life. And I can’t just…give him up overnight. I'm not–not ready to leave that part of me behind. But I can promise that it’s you that I want. That I want to see where this goes. Even though I don’t–” he grimaced a little, “–don’t know how great of a father I would make. I could picture it though. You and I. Together. Kids someday…”
“Are you sure?” I whispered, tears having been freely falling down my cheeks the entire time he’d been speaking. “You’re not just saying this to appease me or because you feel forced into it and you’re going to resent me down the road? Tell me something different three years from now?” I questioned him. “Not just saying it so I’ll stay?”
“If you can give me some time, accept me as I am now while you and I still figure things out together, give me time to figure out how to let Daredevil go someday–to figure out how to be Matt Murdock again,” he assured me slowly. “Then yes, that’s what I want. I just…I need some time. If you’re able to do that, to accept both sides of me, be patient with me…then I’m all in, Emily.” He swallowed hard, the Adam’s apple of his throat bobbing visibly. “I told you the other night that I’d never thought about marriage and kids and growing old with someone because I’d never had someone before that made me want those things.”
Matt drew himself closer to me on the couch cautiously, his hands sliding along the brown leather fabric towards me. They brushed against my hands that were still nervously fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. Carefully he entwined them with his, resting our joined hands in my lap.
“I never had someone that made me want those things until you, Emily,” he whispered. “Until I knew what it felt like to be wanted by you.” He smiled faintly, his eyes softening as they landed along my chin. His thumbs were brushing the skin along the back of both of my hands. “I guess you’re not the only one who needs to take things slow. If you still…want this with me, of course.”
I took a moment, letting his words sink in. Neither of us apparently knew what a relationship would look like for us, but with how in he claimed to be, we were bound to make it work, right? Sure it would be hard, but I cared deeply for Matt and Daredevil. And if someday Daredevil stepped permanently aside…maybe everything could work out in the end. Maybe we would find a way to make this work. Because I wanted Matt and if this week without him taught me anything it was that having Matt–being with him–meant accepting all of him.
My hands squeezed his back. “I do still want this with you,” I reassured him.
Matt’s mouth pulled up into a bright smile, one that had my own mouth curling upwards. He brought our hands up to his mouth, his lips gently kissing the backs of my hands.
“So does that mean,” he asked, turning over one of my hands and placing a soft kiss on my palm as I smiled, “that you want to continue exclusively casually dating me?”
“I think,” I answered him slowly, releasing my hand from his hold to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as he leant into the touch, nuzzling against my palm. “I would prefer to just date you, Matt Murdock, and my Devil.”
Matt’s eyes snapped open, his brows lightly creasing together at my words. He blinked a few times in thought. “What does that mean?” he asked curiously.
“It means,” I explained gently, “that even though I’m not a fan of The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’s lifestyle because it doesn’t lend itself to you being able to have a conventional relationship, I still accept him. He’s you. And I–I care about him just as much as I care about you. And even though,” I continued, “I would like to see a day where Daredevil permanently steps aside to possibly let you and I have a future–assuming, you know, that’s where we go with this–I’m still all in this with that side of you, too. And I want you to know that.”
His mouth twitched a little, his head tilting curiously to the side as he studied me. “But does that mean…you’re my girlfriend?”
I laughed lightly, my thumb tracing his cheekbone. “Yeah, Matty. All in. But just…we can take things slow. For both of us.”
His hand reached up, covering the back of mine on his cheek as he smiled at me. “I can still kiss you though, right?”
“Yes,” I answered him, my eyes immediately dropping to his mouth. “But maybe let’s hold off a little longer on anything more tonight. The uh,” I cleared my throat lightly, “intense flirting included.”
He grinned mischievously at me. “I seem to remember you being the one to start that, Em,” he said.
“Yeah…” I agreed, nodding sheepishly. “I did. But that was before everything that just happened these last few days. And I was drunk. I’ll be on my best behavior if you don’t hit me with more of those charming monologues that make me feel like my stomach is going to fly out of my throat.”
He chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling. “So that’s what your body was doing before you mounted me on my couch the other week?”
I playfully slapped his arm, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Stop, this is still weird for me to get used to. That you’re the one with the weird bat-like senses.”
He raised a finger as he pointedly corrected me. “Heightened, sweetheart, not bat-like. We’ve been over this before.”
“No, I’ve been over this with Daredevil,” I pointed out. “Not you. Which, actually, does matter. Because like…I’m honestly a little…paranoid now.”
Matt’s smile faltered as he gazed back at me. “Why?”
“Because,” I said hesitantly, “I’m now wondering what all you’re picking up about me that I don’t even realize. And then it’s like, making me embarrassed. And I have no idea what I’m even embarrassed about.” My eyes narrowed at him. “Is my breathing really annoying?” I nervously wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans before my eyes widened. “Shit, you’ve said you can smell someone’s sweat–so you can totally tell my hands are all clammy and–”
Matt’s hands gripped mine tightly in his, the movement catching me off guard. He had a serious expression on his face as he spoke. “Em, relax. Breathe. Most things I’ve learned to ignore and I don’t even notice. Your breathing isn’t annoying,” he assured me. A small smile played lightly along his lips. “It was actually calming the few nights you fell asleep with me. Same with your heartbeat.” He squeezed my hands as he shook his head. “And I don’t care that your hands are sweaty other than the fact that I don’t want you to be nervous or uncomfortable or embarrassed around me, Em.”
One of his hands released mine, reaching forward to tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered along my jaw, his calloused fingertips brushing along the length of it. I exhaled a soft breath at his soothing touch.
“You’ve been around me for years, Em,” he reminded me. “Living. Doing all sorts of things. And I'm still here. Wanting you."
"I'm pretty sure I said no more charming monologues," I responded, slightly breathless.
He grinned back at me. "Don't think that was long enough to count as a monologue, sweetheart. You just want me to not be charming?"
"Yes and no," I whispered back.
His grin grew into something a little cheeky and I found myself lost in him for a moment. Until more horrifying thoughts struck me and I audibly groaned and buried my face in my hands.
"What?" he asked.
"You've totally kissed me with morning breath," I answered, mortified and voice muffled.
"And I happily look forward to the pleasure of doing it again," he told me.
Another groan left me. "Am I not supposed to ever eat onions again? Or garlic?" I blurted.
"If you're a vampire probably not," he teased me. "Em, really, it's not a big deal." He reached out, tugging my hands from my face. "You're thinking too much."
An even worse, more horrifying thought struck me and I pulled my hands from his and buried my face back in them. I heard him sigh beside me.
"So I basically can't come around you for like a week once every month," I muttered, embarrassed.
"What, why?" he asked.
I peered between my fingers at him, shooting him a pointed look I wasn't entirely sure he couldn't at least feel. "You know…" I prompted.
His face fell flat as he gazed back at me. "You mean when you grow fur and howl at the moon every month?"
"Matt!" I whined, swatting another hand at him which only made him laugh.
"Sweetheart," he said, tugging my hands away again and cupping my face in both of his large hands. He leaned in towards me, eyes intensely focused along my cheek. "You're overthinking. Stop."
I opened my mouth to counter, but his hands tugged me forward and then his mouth crashed onto mine. Whatever thought I had completely left my mind at the feel of his warm lips moving against mine. My eyes closed and I leaned into him, hands resting on his chest, giving into the kiss. I missed him; fuck how I'd missed him this past week.
My hands latched onto the fabric of his shirt, balling it into my hands as I pressed myself in towards him, the warmth of his chest washing over the front of mine. Gradually he pulled away, resting his forehead to mine, his hands still cradling my head gently.
"Relax," he whispered.
I swallowed hard, trying to collect myself. "That was…" My voice trailed off as I blinked a few times.
"A really good kiss?" he asked with a chuckle, his hands letting go of their hold on me.
My hands released their grip on his shirt and fell to my lap. "I was going to say unfair," I teased, "but yeah. Also that."
"Emily, I understand you have a lot of questions and concerns, but I mean it when I say that you don't need to worry about being embarrassed about normal bodily functions or things like morning breath," he assured me. "You've spent a lot of time with both me and the Devil and I still want you. So can we…move past that for now?" he asked hesitantly.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to let what he said sink in. It was still going to take some getting used to, but I supposed for now I could try to get past it. I didn't focus too much on it when I was with Daredevil, so I'd try not to focus on it too much with Matt. But there was something I was still curious about.
"What?" Matt asked.
My eyes shifted up from my lap, brows furrowed at him. "Can you read minds now?"
He shook his head. "Your breathing changes before you're going to say something."
"Right," I mumbled, running a hand through my hair. "Was just trying to not to focus on your heightened senses and then you say things like that and remind me about it again."
"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly.
"No, don't," I told him, shaking my head. "Don't apologize for who you are. I uh, just need to get used to it around you, too and not just Daredevil."
"So what were you going to say?" he asked.
I leaned my side into the back of his couch, getting more comfortable as I eyed him. "I was going to ask the same thing I did the other week. Why me?"
Matt's lips curved downwards at the corners, his eyes tightening a bit as his head tilted to the side. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, why'd you send me to Nelson and Murdock that night you saved me?" I questioned. "Back when we first technically met. When you were the man in black. And then…everything that came after?"
He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly for a moment. "You were sort of the first person I saved that wasn't afraid of me," he told me. "At the time, the news didn't really know what to make of me and I hadn't been in it much. Usually when I helped people, I could tell by their body's reaction to me that I scared them. Made them uncomfortable. But you…when you calmed down from what that asshole was trying to do," he said, snarling as if what happened years ago was riling him up again, "you were different. You…weren't afraid. And it…I don't know, intrigued me?"
As I listened to him speak, I recalled that night when I had first met him. I had been drunk, going home after a night with friends at the bar. As I was walking home, some guy jumped out of an alley and pulled me into it with him. He had been all over me and I'd been too drunk to do more than stumble around and fall into the side of one of the buildings in the dark, his hands groping at me before The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen yanked him off and beat him bloody.
"Are you okay?"
My head shifted, the world around me briefly spinning for a moment. My heart was racing in my chest, still feeling that stranger's hands on my body, grabbing at me over my dress. I swallowed hard, nodding slowly.
"Yes," I answered thickly, eyes studying the odd attire of my rescuer. "Who are you?"
The man dressed in all black, face covered in a matching black bit of fabric covering everything but his mouth, shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he answered.
I stumbled away from the wall tentatively, watching him freeze up at my approach. "Thank you," I whispered. "I don't–don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up."
He eyed me curiously before he spoke again. "You heading home? You need a taxi?" he asked.
"Yes to heading home, no to the taxi," I answered him. When his head tilted curiously to the side I explained sheepishly, "I tend to get sick in cars when I've drank this much."
He studied me for another moment, head tilted curiously to the side. My own drunken gaze was studying him carefully in return.
"I can walk you home," he offered hesitantly. "Just so you get back safe. If you…want."
Licking my lips, the taste of alcohol drawing on my tongue as I did, I considered his offer for just a moment. And then I nodded and took a hesitant step towards him.
"If you don't mind," I whispered back nervously. "I'd feel a little safer after–after that."
One corner of his mouth tugged upwards at my admission. "I don't mind."
"It's uh, it's back this way," I told him, gesturing towards the alley entrance I'd been pulled down. My stomach lurched at the memory and my eyes closed for a moment, trying to fight the panic rising again. "Sorry," I whispered. "Just, uh, just give me a second."
"You sure you're alright?" he asked again.
"Yeah," I answered, nodding lightly. "Just a little freaked out. I'm good though."
I turned on my heel, heading towards the street, but my heel caught on a crack in the pavement and I drunkenly stumbled forward. The masked man's hands were quickly on my shoulders, steadying me before he removed them. When I glanced over my shoulder at him he'd taken a step back, hands tentatively raised at his sides.
"Sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he said quickly. "Just didn't want you to fall."
I eyed him for a minute, feeling the fear slowly fade away as I once again studied him curiously. "You don't make me uncomfortable," my drunk mouth blurted. "I'm just a little…unsteady on my feet, sorry."
He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced down towards his own feet. "I can…carry you back, if you'd like?"
I stared at him, mouth slightly parted in surprise at his offer.
"Sorry, that's ridiculous, you don't want a strange man carrying you after what just–"
"I don't mind if you don't," I breathed out, still apparently blurting out drunk thoughts.
His head snapped up towards me, canting slightly to the side as if he was searching for something as he watched me carefully. After a minute he hesitantly stepped towards me.
"You're…sure?"
"Are you?" I asked back.
His mouth tugged into a grin as he carefully approached me. "I'll uh, need to touch you," he said.
"Really?" I asked sarcastically. "I thought you meant you could like, levitate me or something. God forbid you touch me after I accept your offer of carrying me."
He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Wasn't anticipating the sarcasm," he told me as he finished closing the space between us.
I bit my lip as he very slowly reached out and wrapped his arm around my lower back and bent down a bit to slide an arm under my legs. My arms nervously wrapped around his neck just before he lifted me. My vision briefly spun at the movement and I closed my eyes, ducking my head against his shoulder for a moment.
"You're not going to puke on me, are you?" he teased.
I laughed at his unexpected joke, my arms tightening around him. "I'll give you a heads up and aim away from you," I half-joked back.
"So where am I taking you?"
I gave him my building's address, less concerned about giving that out to a violent masked stranger than I probably should have been. And then he began walking carefully, holding me like I weighed nothing.
"So do you have a name?" I asked him.
"Yes, but telling you would defeat the point of the mask," he answered cheekily.
I snorted in amusement. He had a point.
"I'm Emily," I told him.
"Any particular reason you're out drinking so much, Emily?" he asked.
I sighed heavily, relaxing into the stranger's hold. "I have this really obnoxious office job. Basically just dealing with paperwork all day long. And my boss is a jerk–" I stopped, shaking my head against him. "I'm sure you don't really care. I just hate my job. But I've been trying to get into something else."
"And what's that?" he asked curiously as he walked.
"Wedding photography," I told him. "I've been doing it on the side. On my weekends. Trying to save up for this other camera I desperately want. But I uh, I'm not so great with the whole…business plan and writing up a decent contract for it. I'm better with the creative and people person aspect," I rambled on. "One day I'd love to do it full time. Quit my shitty job and just…photograph weddings. Make my own hours during the week. Meet so many people. And I'd really love to–" I abruptly stopped, leaning my head back a bit to look at the masked man. "Sorry, I'm drunk and I'm rambling."
"Not at all," he answered with a grin, glancing down at me. "I was enjoying listening to you, actually. But uh…I might know of some lawyers who could help with the contract and maybe some of the business planning aspects."
I laughed lightly, resting my head back onto his shoulder. "Trust me, I can't afford to hire lawyers to help me."
"Nelson and Murdock," he told me. "They uh, they just opened in Hell's Kitchen. They do work pro bono for people who can't afford them. They'd help you."
I snorted. "Yeah, that sounds unrealistic."
"It's not," he assured me.
My eyes were getting heavy, lulled into a sense of calm in his arms. I readjusted my grip around him, my hands brushing along the firm muscle of his shoulders.
"You're really muscular," I blurted.
He laughed lightly, his gaze landing down on me in his arms as a large smile spread across his mouth. "And you're really drunk."
"Mmm, true," I mumbled back. "I bet you get hit on by all the damsels in distress you save though."
He shook his head, the deep chuckle in his chest vibrating against my body in his arms. "I can assure you I don't," he told me. His head shifted to the side, glancing down at me again as he asked, "Wait, does that mean this is you flirting with me?"
"If I wasn't so drunk, maybe," I mused aloud.
I saw the grin spread wider on his face and I couldn't resist the one that spread on mine.
"I certainly did not expect my night to go this way," he told me.
"That makes two of us," I teased. "Wasn't expecting a handsome stranger to carry me home tonight."
"I'm wearing a mask, how do you know if I'm handsome?" he asked in amusement.
I closed my eyes, still grinning. "Don't need to see your face to know. You know?" I mumbled.
He chuckled faintly, readjusting me in his arms. "Yeah, I do actually. But hey, don't go falling asleep on me now."
"You're comfortable," I muttered, adjusting the position of my head against his shoulder.
"You're a very strange woman," he replied.
"Says the guy in a mask," I countered.
"I intrigued you?" I asked in amusement.
"Yeah," he answered, grinning sheepishly. "You were this beautiful woman I'd just saved in an alley and you–you thanked me. Felt safe enough to let me carry you home. Joke with me. Flirt with me," he said. "And then before I left you wanted me to wait so you could bring me water. Were so amazed that I could climb up to the roof."
I laughed lightly into my hand, remembering that part of the night. "You forgot the part where you helped me take my heels off so I wouldn't fall down getting up to my apartment first."
"Oh yes, how could I forget," he teased. His gaze dropped to the couch, the smile still on his face. "I waited those two weeks for you to show up at our office," he said softly. "Didn't think you were ever going to show. I was afraid I'd never see you again."
My eyes narrowed as I remembered back to that time. "I had been trying to save up something to offer to pay you guys. And I also didn't believe the masked man about lawyers who would work for free at first. But is that…that's why you came back to my apartment building a week later, right?"
"Yeah," he answered quietly. "I wanted to see you again. But I was worried you'd think it was weird that the masked stranger was showing up at your place. Didn't want you to think I was a creep."
"So that's why the Devil asked me how my photography business was coming along? Because you were hoping I'd come in still? To Nelson and Murdock?"
He nodded, his attention returning to me. "Yeah. The masked man couldn't have a relationship with you but Matt Murdock could." He smiled faintly, his eyes creasing slightly in the corners. "And then one day you finally showed up. I recognized your voice when Karen greeted you. I couldn't believe it at first."
"And then you were dead set on offering to help me," I said with a smile at the memory.
He chuckled lightly, running a hand across his forehead. "I may have intentionally taken longer than necessary to work on everything," he admitted. "Found reasons to call you. You got along with Karen and Foggy so well that I jumped at the chance to invite you to Josie’s with us. And then…later that night I found out you were with someone," he said, face falling. "It hurt, hearing that you were already with someone. But we got along so well that we continued to see each other as friends. And I–I couldn't resist checking on you as the man in the mask. Eventually discovered your penchant for spending late nights on rooftops and I…just couldn't stop visiting you whenever I found you up on a roof. Or walking back from that one bar I noticed you often went with your friends.” An affectionate smile warmed his face as he stared back at me. “You always made the dark bits of my night brighter."
"And so,” I began, trying to calm my heart that was stuttering in my chest at his words, “that's how our odd friendship formed?"
"Yeah," he said with a sigh as he nodded. "And the more you flirted the more I did, too. And the more you told the Devil about what your–" he grit his teeth as he said the word, "–boyfriend did or said, the more I hoped you'd finally leave him. But you didn't. And the more time I spent with you–as Matt or the Devil–the more I…fell for you," he said, voice quiet.
My breath caught in my throat at his words. My heart was doing something strange in conjunction with my stomach at what he had said. I blinked a few times, trying to force my brain to form words.
“So you–you really have just been waiting for me…all this time?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “It hurt when you moved out of Hell’s Kitchen and none of us heard from you for months,” he admitted, eyes watering. “I thought for sure I’d never see you again. But then you…came back. And you and Justin were done for good and I–I didn’t think it through. I just had to tell you how I felt before I missed my chance again. And I’m sorry I didn’t give it more thought first, Em, I just–”
I cut him off, flinging myself forward into him and throwing my arms around his neck. My mouth was immediately on his, kissing him hard as I felt tears building behind my closed eyelids. His own arms quickly snaked their way around my back, crushing me into his chest as he kissed me back with the same intensity. I was losing myself in the clean scent of him, the warmth of his body, the feel of his tongue sliding along my lower lip, the way his hands were clutching my back through my shirt, the sharp sound of him trying to catch his breath between kisses. It was like I was becoming intoxicated on him.
Eventually I forced myself to pull away from him before I took things too far again, panting hard just inches from his face. “I thought I told you,” I said between heavy breaths, “no more charming monologues, Matt?”
His nose nuzzled forward, bumping into mine and I bit my lip. I could feel his warm breath fanning over my face; I could hear his own panting breaths so loud in my ears.
“I can’t help myself with you,” he whispered. He cleared his throat, pulling away from me now. “Would you…like to stay tonight?” he asked nervously. “Just to sleep, obviously. I just…I missed you.”
“Yeah,” I answered immediately. “I missed you, too.”
“You uh, want a beer?” he asked, eyebrows raising curiously.
I nodded and before I could open my mouth, Matt was already rising to his feet. My eyes narrowed. “So you can tell I just nodded?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he told me. “The air shifts a particular way. I can tell from that.”
I leaned over the back of his couch, arms resting on the backrest as I watched him open the fridge door, bending over to grab out two beers. As they often did, my eyes wandered downwards for a moment.
“Any other questions you have for me?” he asked, rising back up and taking the caps off of the bottles.
My eyes followed him as he padded barefoot out of his kitchen, back towards me in the living room. He handed me a cold beer and I thanked him before taking a long pull. Matt sat down beside me, his free hand resting along my thigh.
“Yeah, actually,” I said. “But I probably shouldn’t ask it.”
A cheeky grin spread on Matt’s lips as he pulled the bottle back from his mouth. He swallowed before his head cocked to the side, his attention fully on me. “Oh? Well now I need to hear.”
“If I’m dating you…”I began slowly, chewing my thumbnail as I spoke, “and you’re also Daredevil…”
“Yes?” Matt prompted, cheeky grin still present.
“Does that mean I can–eventually, obviously–fuck Daredevil?” I asked, coy smile on my lips.
Matt let out a loud snort, shaking his head. “Fucking hell, Emily,” he groaned. “You said you’d behave!”
“Well you’re the one continually making charming, sweet monologues that keep making my head spin!” I countered. “It’s a legitimate question, anyway!”
He laughed before he took another drink of his beer. I stared at him expectantly, awaiting his answer.
“Poor Matthew Murdock doesn’t even stand a chance, does he?” Matt teased.
“Oh no,” I answered back, “I definitely want him. But I mean, come on, all those times you flirted with me in that suit? How could I not want you to do things to me in it?”
“Emily, you’re killing me here,” he groaned.
“Okay, okay, just answer my question then!” I laughed back.
He sighed heavily, nodding his head. “Yes, if that’s what you want, Em.”
I grinned while taking a sip of my beer. Another thought struck me and I saw Matt roll his eyes playfully, still smiling.
“What?” he asked.
“That’s entirely weird how you do that,” I pointed out, still grinning. “But…I did have one more question for tonight.”
“Hmm?” he hummed.
“Do you…still have the black outfit, too?”
Matt let out a loud groan, slamming his forehead into the cushion on the back of his couch. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he joked, his voice muffled by the cushion. “I’m going to have to sleep on the couch tonight.”
“I’ll behave after you answer my question,” I told him. “I promise. But you did heavily flirt with me as the Devil so…”
He sat upright, turning his attention towards me again. “So you want to know if the Devil can help you unjam your toaster?” he asked, sly smirk on his lips and a dark look suddenly in his eyes that was making my heart race in a very good way. “If he can get you off better than your vibrator? Pull all those beautiful sounds from your mouth?”
I exhaled a shuddering breath before my tongue darted out, wetting my lips. “Alright, point taken, Matt. I’ll behave,” I breathed out.
His smirk grew smug as he took another pull from his beer. “I do have one more black outfit,” he admitted. “I kept it in case something ever happened to the suit. To answer your question.” His finger tapped along the outside of his beer bottle lightly. “But that’s not exactly how I picture our first time together.”
I nervously retucked a strand of hair behind my ear, clearing my throat. “Neither do I,” I said. “But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it…” I swallowed hard, clearing my throat a second time. “Let’s uh, let’s change the subject though.”
Matt’s expression shifted from smug to soft instantly as he nodded. He adjusted himself on the couch beside me before drawing my legs out over his lap. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked, one hand resting on my knee.
“Are you…going out tonight?” I asked him curiously.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I knew you were coming to talk. I wanted to be here.”
I leaned closer to him, resting my head against his solid shoulder. “You meant it when you said before that you don’t go out every night, right?”
“Yes,” he replied, carefully resting the side of his head atop mine. “I don’t go out every night. And honestly trying to pry myself from you right now sounds terrible.”
I smiled, turning my head slightly and placing a kiss to his shoulder. And then I gently rested my forehead against him, eyes closing contentedly. “You know, somewhere between all those coffee shop conversations and dinners at my apartment,” I whispered. “All those times you listened to me vent or gave me advice. Helped me with my business. Kept me safe. I–I started falling for you, too,” I confessed. I felt him stiffen underneath me. “You are so indescribably good, Matthew Murdock.” I swallowed hard, pulling my head off of his shoulder as he leant back, looking back down at me with such warmth in his eyes. “I could never want anyone else,” I admitted.
Slowly he closed the distance between us, his mouth back on mine. I could taste the beer on his warm lips and feel the emotion in the way they moved. I wanted to curl up on this couch forever and just kiss him like this with no end in sight.
“I just–” I began to say between a kiss, “–want to be–” he kissed me again, “–all yours, Matty.”
He kissed me harder, his hand sliding its way to cradle the back of my head as he did. It felt like the world had come to a stop and everything was how it should be for once. When he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against mine, his eyes still shut tight.
“Please never leave me again,” he begged.
I leaned up into him, lightly kissing his lips. “I don’t ever want to,” I told him.