Poker (Karen/Frank)
Kastle + Poker
Foggy hates poker nights, because he never wins, leaving with empty pockets every damn time.
Matt fingers the brail along the edge of the cards, a smug look on his face as he listens to everyone’s breathing, the beating of their hearts, gauging the heat on their skin like a human lie detector.
And Karen has a surprisingly amazing poker face, her sweet expression never faltering, no matter how shit her hand is.
And Frank, when he comes (much to Matt’s irritation), is like a statue, not a muscle twitching, no emotion flitting across his face.
Only once does Frank’s stony facade crack, when Karen’s fingertips brush against the silent man’s scarred knuckles, his eyes darting to the wave of shimmering blonde hair beside him, adam’s apple bobbing unexpectedly, but Foggy’s pretty sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the cards in his hand.