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courtforshort15 · 1 year

Text

Green is the Color

Pairing: Matt Murdock x FemReader

Word Count: 7,200

Summary: Karen Page looks flawless next to Matt in a way that you don’t. Insecurities and jealousies were bound to pop up at some point.

Trigger warnings: None. Just some angst with a happy ending.

Masterlist

You're jealous of Karen.

Beautiful, smart, sweet Karen who has never been anything but kind to you. Leggy, slender, blonde Karen who catches eyes effortlessly wherever she goes. Determined, self-sacrificing, truth-seeking Karen who seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, who seems honestly happy to see you whenever you join them out as a group.

And though you're the one who sleeps in Matt's bed more often than not, though you're the one he whispers soft, sweet things to while he holds your hand as you walk home, though you're the one he calls when he's hurt or happy or needing you with him, you can't help but be jealous of her.

They look flawless together. She's light where he is dark. She is petite in everything but height, and he is made of muscle and broad shoulders. She is sweet and open where he is charming and dangerous when you truly look at him.

They are beautiful, standing together laughing loudly, and you are not the only one who notices.

"God, some people have all the luck, don't they?" A woman next to you at the bar says to her friend. It’s your turn to buy the drinks for the group, and you're waiting patiently as Josie helps another patron. The conversation catches your ear, and you're not exactly surprised when you notice they're talking about Matt and Karen. It's not the first time you've heard something of this sort.

"They'd have such beautiful babies," the other woman replies, and the sound of her voice and the words being said pierces into your skin. "They look so good together it almost hurts. I hate them."

The women gather their drinks with shared laughter and walk away, leaving you to yourself while you wait on Josie. Your cheeks burn in something akin to shame and sadness, the realization that you'll never look as good next to him as Karen does. And though Matt has told you time and time again how much he loves you, it's not the first shred of doubt you've felt.

Hearing someone else echo the things that have lived inside your heart for so long drives a sharp blade into your chest, and you struggle as you work to maintain your breathing, knowing Matt will pick up on the irregularity. You're in a crowded bar and Matt is a few drinks in, so you think you're safe at your current distance away, but the second you join the group, he'll be able to tell that something is off if you don't force yourself to calm down.

With a fake grin that pulls sharply at the corners of your suddenly dry mouth, you thank Josie when she sets your drinks in front of you, and you slowly make your way back over to them where they're playing a game of pool. You set the drinks on the table next to them, and Foggy immediately dives into the beer you've brought over.

Karen thanks you for her drink with a smile, and Matt squeezes your hand in appreciation before he plays the part of an ordinary blind man and pretends to be awful at the game. It's all in good fun for him, though you all know he could whip everyone's ass, and he gasps in fake shock whenever he sinks a ball intentionally that he pretends is unintentional for the benefit of whatever bystander may be nearby.

Matt says something that makes Karen laugh, and she places a hand on his shoulder as he smiles. Matt is your boyfriend, the man you'd gladly spend the rest of your life with, but you suddenly feel like an intruder in your own relationship.

With a grimace you hope no one notices, you toss your drink back, setting the glass loudly back on to the table.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," you tell the group, already turning to grab your purse. Immediately they all protest, asking you to stay for another game, or at least another round of drinks. You try to make the smile on your face look as warm and friendly as it always is, but you know you fail on some level. But in everyone's inebriated state, they all take it as completely genuine.

"Alright, sweetheart," Matt says easily, placing his cue stick in the rack, turning to grab his suit jacket from where it's been tossed over one of the chairs. "We can leave. Are you staying with me tonight? Or do you want me to come over to your place?"

"No, it's totally fine," you object instantly, already taking a few steps away in an effort to distance yourself. "You should stay and have fun."

He waves your protest away with a smile. "We’ve been here for a while already. We can head out.”

You let out a laugh that surprisingly doesn’t sound nearly as fake as it feels. “You guys won a big case today. You deserve to stay out and celebrate.”

“She’s right, Matt!” Foggy calls out from the other side of the table before he takes a long sip of his beer. “We deserve all the alcohol that Josie can provide us with tonight. That case was a nightmare.”

Your laugh is a little more genuine this time, eyeing the way Foggy sways when he puts his beer down. Karen isn’t faring much better, if the flush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Stay, Matt. I’ll be okay getting home.”

The easy smile has left his face, and he makes his way over to you. You stay rooted to the spot, knowing that rejecting his advancements would tip him off to the fact that something is wrong. There's also the factor that you hate denying him any sort of affection he needs to give or take from you, so you stand still and wait for him. When he’s in front of you, he reaches a hand up and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing a finger over your cheekbone with the movement.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly, his voice meant for only your ears. “I can at least walk you home if you want.”

You turn your head to press a light kiss to the inside of his wrist, unable to deny yourself the warmth that his closeness brings you. “I’m just tired, and I think my stomach is a little off.” This close to you, he should be able to tell a lie from the truth, but the words that leave your mouth are honest enough. You’re tired of feeling inadequate, and your stomach is reeling with the thought of other people seeing what you see when you look at Matt and Karen.

The excuse you’ve given him is completely true, he just doesn’t know the reasons behind them.

“Then I should definitely–”

Smiling slightly, you shake your head. “I’ll take a cab home. I want you to stay with your friends and have a good time. You earned it."

Matt sighs and reluctantly agrees to let you leave without him, but not before pulling you in close and placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’ll call you later, alright? If you’re still up, I’ll come over when I’m done tonight.”

“That works,” you say with a small shrug. A small smile slides across his face, and he pulls you in one more time to press his mouth to yours, before he takes a step back and turns to face his friends. You send Foggy and Karen a quick wave and another false smile, before making your way to the door.

You don’t miss the way the two women from before not-so subtly eye you up and down with their eyebrows raised, no doubt finding you lacking for a beautiful man such as Matt, especially when compared to the gorgeous woman that is one Karen Page.

Your cheeks burn again, but you push past the women without a word.

When you’re all settled in bed, you curl your knees up to your chest, yanking your heavy blankets over you in an effort to keep yourself in and the rest of the world out. A few tears cloud your vision, but you squeeze your eyes tightly shut to keep them from slipping out. If Matt were to stop by, he’d smell the salt of the tears, and nothing would stop him from getting an answer out of you for why you were upset.

He’d know if you were lying, no longer distracted by his friends and the loud noise of the bar, and you’d be unable to persuade him to let it go. Feelings would tumble from your mouth unchecked, and he’d either be angry or hurt at your accusations.

…or worse, he’d admit that he feels the way about Karen that the rest of the world has decided he should.

In order to keep that from happening, you turn your phone on do not disturb in an effort to make sure you’re not woken up by his call, hopefully keeping him away for the night if he decides not to disturb your sleep.

You ignore the way your heart twists painfully in your chest.

****************

“That looks awful, Foggy,” you tell him as you step into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page a month later, eyeing the way his face is peeling from an awful sunburn he’d gotten on a trip to Florida to visit his parents. “Do you need me to go and get some aloe for you?”

Foggy laughs, but immediately winces as the expression on his face pulls at the skin that already looks extremely painful. “I’ve got some in my drawer,” he says, motioning to the bottom part of his desk. “I’ve been told to reapply several times during the day. Thank God I don’t have any clients coming in today. I'll just be here all day working through some case items with Matt.”

“That’s good at least,” you say, walking forward and placing a sandwich on Foggy’s desk before taking a seat in one of their lobby chairs, waiting for Matt to arrive so that you can have lunch with him in his office. You’d picked up sandwiches from his favorite deli, including one for Foggy, knowing Matt won’t have time to go out and meet up with you somewhere today.

“Thanks for bringing this, by the way,” Foggy says with the biggest smile he can offer with the way the skin has tightened on his face. “Though, I’m not quite sure how I’m going to open my mouth wide enough to eat this.”

You send him a sympathetic look. “I can’t imagine. It looks super uncomfortable.”

Foggy snorts. “If I can deal with watching Matt kiss Karen in the hospital that one time, I can deal with this. Now that was uncomfortable.”

Your blood runs cold.

“Matt…kissed Karen?” You ask, heart hammering uncomfortably in your chest, the increased speed sharp and painful as it pounds relentlessly. “When was that?”

Foggy must not hear the way your voice has changed, too busy trying to take a bit of his sandwich. “During the Punisher case. I like…turned to look at them, and bam. A full smack of his lips against hers, and it looked just as uncomfortable for me as it was for them.”

“So this…was a while ago?”

Foggy freezes, finally glancing back up at you, a confused frown on his face. “Matt didn’t tell you?”

You shift in your seat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, but you're not quite sure if you pull it off. “Tell me what?”

He shakes his head. “I mean, it’s no big deal, really. They only dated for a small period of time, and it’s barely even worth mentioning, to be honest. It was right as Elektra came back into the picture.”

Ah, Elektra.

The woman whose scars you’ve been steadily trying to heal ever since you met him.

“Do you think it would have gone anywhere if Elektra hadn’t come back?” You ask hesitantly, fingernails biting into the palm of your hand. Foggy looks thoughtful.

“I’m not sure,” he says, appearing to think about it. “They definitely liked each other. It could have been something, had either one of them been truthful with each other. To be honest, I kind of thought they would try again after everything with Fisk, but they’ve remained just friends.”

You glance down at your hands, struggling to take a deep breath. When you glance back up, Foggy is frowning heavily.

“Are you okay?”

Forcing a smile on your face, you nod, trying to get rid of the images of beautiful Karen and handsome Matt, standing next to each other and smiling, like they had that night at Josie’s. The picture of them together flashes through your head almost brutally. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just didn’t know is all,” you tell him with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I’m super hungry, so I think I’m a little out of it.”

Foggy looks at you, eyes narrowing in consideration, before his face brightens again. “I totally feel that. Like…my life is perpetually split into two sections; eating, or thinking about when I’m going to eat again. My stomach is forever calling out for food.”

You laugh, and while you find what he’s said amusing, it’s not enough to drown out the roaring in your ears. The new knowledge has sent you spiraling, and it’s like every thought you’ve had about the two of them is standing in front of you, taunting you. Matt and Karen had at one point been together. Maybe only for a short period of time, according to Foggy, but feelings had been there, and you can’t help but think that you were possibly the thing that was standing in the way of the universe correcting itself.

Foggy has thankfully turned back to his sandwich, and you pray for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

Your phone rings, and you pull it out of your purse, grateful for the first time in your life to see your boss’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” her voice greets you, “I know you’re taking your lunch, but is there any way you can come back early? Someone in accounting messed up the data you’ve collected, and I could really use some help getting it sorted back out. It needs to be resubmitted by the end of the day.”

Perfect.

“Yes, I can be there in ten. I’ll see you soon.”

Your boss hangs up, and you’re shoving your phone into your purse as you rise up from your chair. “I have to go, work emergency,” you tell Foggy in explanation as he looks at you questioningly. “Will you give Matt his lunch and tell him I’m sorry I missed him?”

He nods with a small grin, gingerly wiping his mouth with a napkin as he swallows, careful to not rub too hard. His skin really does look painful. “I’ll tell him to give you a call later. He’ll be sad that he didn’t get to spend lunch with you.”

Your heart aches painfully in your chest. You’re sad, too, but right now the relief far outweighs the disappointment. You’re not sure you’d be able to handle sitting across from him right now, insecurities and negative thoughts spreading through your entire body like an uncontrollable wildfire.

Matt has always made your heart pound relentlessly in your chest, the mere thought of him sending you into overdrive. His wide smile. His cocky smirk. His beautiful eyes he only lets a select few see. His soft skin.

But now your heart is pounding for a whole different reason, the anxiety ensnaring you so completely in such a small period of time, and you don’t want him around to witness the fallout that’s bound to happen.

You send one last smile to Foggy, and if he notices the panic and misery in it, he doesn’t say anything.

*****************

The final nail in the coffin happens at a fundraiser Nelson, Murdock & Page had been invited to. The fundraiser was raising money to help underprivileged individuals afford legal counsel when charged with petty crimes, and the firm is happy to attend and donate what they can to the cause.

Matt had asked you to accompany him, wide smile on his face while he told you about the mission and purpose, and you readily accepted his invitation to join. He seemed so eager and excited, and you couldn't have thought of an excuse to justify not going if you tried.

You’d picked out a beautiful dress for the evening. Red and black, an echo of the black he wears out at night, and the red of his sharp lenses, two different personas he puts on for the world. You prefer Matt in sweat pants and a hoodie with large fuzzy socks pulled up mid-shin, but you love all pieces of him, and this dress reminds you of the person he chooses to be for his city.

He’s running late, which is unsurprising, given the long day he’d had in court. He warned you earlier that his work day may run over, but that he’d join the group as quickly as possible.

You enter the fundraiser with Foggy, Karen, and Marci instead, taking in the way the lobby of the museum has transformed into a beautiful layout filled with cocktail tables that are covered with sleek black cloths and lit-up centerpieces. The lighting is low and almost romantic, a soft jazz band is playing on a stage directly ahead, and there are various decorations and balloons in hues of blues and purples.

It’s not necessarily a black-tie event, but people are dressed beautifully as they talk amongst themselves, weaving in and out of the crowd as they greet and strike up new conversations with people who have just walked in. It’s not exactly surprising when an older woman walks up to the group with a smile on her face, arms outstretched for a hug. Your group of lawyers is bound to run into people they know.

“Foggy,” she greets warmly, pulling him in, squeezing him to her. Foggy leans in immediately, beaming at the woman.

“Emily,” he says with a kiss to her cheek. “Always wonderful to see you.” He turns to the rest of the group, arm still around her shoulders. “Everyone, this is Emily Davidson. She is an old friend of the family.”

She smiles broadly at the group, before lifting her face back towards Foggy

“Where’s Matt?” Emily questions, arm still wrapped around his waist after a brief chorus of hellos are said. “I thought he was coming.”

“He’ll be here soon,” Foggy answers easily. He takes a flute of champagne that a waiter hands to him. “This is–”

“Oh, you must be his girlfriend,” she says with a large smile, interrupting Foggy and finally stepping away from him. Her eyes are absolutely lit up with warmth and excitement. “Matt said you’d be here with him.”

But Emily isn’t looking at you. She’s looking at Karen.

Your heart drops.

Of course it’s Karen. It’s always Karen.

“Aren’t you just beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing Karen’s hands in what can only be described as pure joy. “That boy always sure knew how to pick them.”

“I’m not—”

“He says you’ve been together for over a year, right?” She continues, voice carrying over Karen’s immediate objection. Karen gives you a look that is extremely apologetic, cheeks turning red. “None of the other women he’s brought around have stuck. I’m so happy to know someone as sweet looking as you has decided to–”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Karen finally manages to interrupt, looking deeply uncomfortable as she shifts on her feet. The woman frowns, but Karen removes her hands from hers and gestures towards you with a smile that is kind, but also increasingly awkward.

Emily stares at you for a second, mouth dropping infinitesimally, but she recovers quickly, a wide smile once again lighting up her face. Though she is subtle about it you don’t miss the way her eyes briefly glance up and down, as if sizing you up.

“Oh. It’s so nice to meet you, dear,” she says, taking a step towards you. Her gaze upon you is kind, but more reserved and closed off than it had been with Karen. She seems to be yet another person who expects Matt to have someone as beautiful as Karen on his arm, and the thought causes your throat to go dry and your heart to drop. “You look lovely, too. That dress is stunning.”

You force a smile, and you hate the way it’s appeared on your face more and more these past few weeks. It was once a smile that was meant for the occasional awkward conversation, but lately it’s almost found a permanent home on your face.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you tell her, hugging her awkwardly when she pulls you in. Your body is full of tension, and your movements feel stiff. She pulls away, taking a step back. She eyes the group once more, the four of you in a semi-circle around her, before mentioning that she has some friends she needs to catch up with. Emily walks away, unaware of the turmoil that is brewing in you.

The air is sweltering around the four of you, and your hand is holding on to your clutch in a grip that would be bruising if it was someone's hand instead.

Karen abruptly turns to you, an hesitant smile on her face, “I–”

“Does anyone know where the bathroom is?” You cut her off, making a show of looking around you, trying to spot one. Your eyes land on one finally, and it’s like a lifeline that’s calling to you. “Oh, there it is. I’ll be back in a few.” Without another word, you turn on your heel and make your way towards the bathroom, shoes clacking loudly on the floor.

You're in a stall before you know it, the bathroom shockingly but thankfully unoccupied. You lock the stall door with shaking hands, begging yourself not to cry as your face crumbles. The last thing you want is to go back out to your friends with red eyes and smeared mascara, so you bite your tongue until it bleeds.

You have to get out of here.

An idea springs up inside your head, and you yank your phone out of your purse, immediately pulling up your message chain with your younger sister.

Text Sent 7:32pm: I need you to call me in fifteen minutes with an emergency.

You hold your breath, praying that your sister responds shortly. It’s always been a code when one of you needs an excuse to get out of something, and you’ve never relied on it the way you’re relying on it now.

Text Received 7:33pm: Is everything okay?

Sighing in relief that she’s answered so quickly, tears still pricking at your eyes, you type out a quick reply.

Text Sent 7:33pm: Not really, but I’ll explain later. Can you call me in a few?

Text Received 7:34pm: Absolutely.

You rejoin your friends with another fake smile, and make an effort to seem as put together as possible. Temporarily shoving your misery aside, you crack a few jokes, laugh at Foggy’s commentary of the people around him, and tap your champagne flute against Karen’s in a funny, random toast, ignoring the way she’s looking at you in concern. You make a show of wondering where Matt is, casually mentioning that he had said he would be arriving soon, craning your neck to glance around the room as if in search for him.

In reality, you’re hoping he’s nowhere near the event, so that you can slip out without a word.

You know you’re being borderline childish with how you’re reacting. It had been an easy mistake on Emily’s part, but it’s once again reinforcing the idea that Matt should be with someone who looks like Karen, at least by society’s standards.

A beautiful man with a beautiful woman. It doesn't matter that he's blind and can't possibly know what his partner looks like; there's still an unfortunate, unspoken rule that says beautiful people belong with other beautiful people.

You're cute, in your own way. But other people don't seem to think it's enough. And while you’d normally be the type of person to flip society the bird, you can only hear the same message so many times before it starts to sink in like a poison with no antidote.

True to her word, your sister calls at the fifteen minute mark, and you feel the way your phone is vibrating in your purse. You pull it out, sending a quick apologetic look to the trio as you take a small step to the side, and answer it.

“Hello?”

“Are you coming over to talk about whatever is going on?” Your sister says in greeting, her dry tone still managing to sound a bit concerned.

“Oh no, are you okay?” You ask in reply, placing a heavy frown on your face. The group is watching you closely, even while they make small talk amongst themselves.

“Did Matt do something?”

“I’m at an event right now,” you say, somehow managing to sound regretful, letting a wince slide across your face. Foggy looks at you, his brow furrowed, as if trying to figure out what's going on. When he wants to be, he's more perceptive than anyone ever gives him credit for. “Can I come by after?”

“Tell whoever’s there that I need stitches or something,” your sister suggests helpfully.

You sigh loudly, shifting your eyes upward in what you hope conveys a small amount of annoyance. “Okay, I’m coming.” You hang up shortly after, turning to the group with an unhappy look across your face. At least that part isn’t necessarily a lie.

“Do you really have to leave?” Karen asks, and while she sounds sympathetic to whatever may have happened on the phone, there’s also a tiny spark of suspicion in her eyes. You ignore it.

“My sister sliced her hand open and probably needs stitches,” you say as an explanation, grimacing. “She asked me to meet her at the hospital. She’s awful with needles and is freaking out. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

Marci gives you a sad smile, and it looks a little too knowing for your taste. She’s the one who knows you the least, and while she’s a part of the friend group by way of Foggy, you don’t know her nearly enough to be overly concerned about whether or not she believes the act.

Foggy and Karen, on the other hand, seem to be a little more cautious with the explanation you’ve given, and you know that if you stay with them much longer, they’ll see right through the agony that’s tearing its way through you, no matter how hard you’re trying to keep it at bay.

“Tell Matt that I’m sorry to have to leave so early,” you say to Foggy as you lean in to give him a hug. Karen hugs you, too, and you try not to flinch from the touch.

Beautiful, lovely Karen. It’s not her fault, you know. But it doesn’t stop the sting.

“You could call him yourself,” Foggy suggests as you move to leave the group. You don’t answer, adrenaline and panic finally sliding through the cracks, and you can’t be there one second more.

You’re crying on your sister’s couch in a set of pajamas she’s leant you forty-five minutes later, bottle of whiskey on the table in front of you, your cell phone once again on do not disturb with a growing collection of missed calls and voicemails.

******************

You stumble back into your apartment the next morning, still dressed in your sister’s pajamas, evening dress bunched over your arm. Your expensive heels hang almost pathetically from your fingers, a reminder of a failed night out, having been replaced by a pair of old flip flops.

“Hey,” a voice says, and you’re not necessarily surprised to see him standing in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. He looks tired, more tired than you’ve seen in a long time, and you wince, knowing a large part of it is due to you.

“Hey,” you whisper in reply. You set your shoes and dress on your kitchen table, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

Matt’s eyebrows shoot up in slight surprise, mouth parting. “Am I…unwelcome here? Am I intruding?”

“No, of course not,” you say in a rush, disliking the way his beautiful face flashes with something that looks like hurt. “I just…wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“You would have known if you bothered to answer my calls or listen to any of the several voicemails I left last night.”

You hang your head in shame and guilt. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I had no idea what was going on,” he tells you, placing his coffee cup on the counter and taking a slow step forward. There's a look of concern on his face, though it's buried under a level of irritation and exasperation that seems to be slowly settling in. “You were just…gone.”

“I told Foggy and Karen that my sister–”

“You’re a horrible liar, sweetheart,” Matt says with a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “They knew something was up, and unfortunately I was still too far away to know something had happened to actually do anything.”

“Nothing hap–”

“Did you miss the part where I just said you are a horrible liar?”

Your jaw snaps shut.

“Your sister finally called me back last night after you went to bed, or else I would have had no idea where you were,” Matt says, and he sounds extremely frustrated. “You can’t…you can’t just disappear on me like that.”

You know the way people have just up and left him in the past without a word, you know the way it has continued to leave scars on him, and it makes you feel incredibly guilty. But it doesn't stop the way you begin to also feel defensive, a direct result of the weeks of hurt still flowing through you.

“I’m not a child, Matt,” you tell him in something that could almost be construed as a snap. “You don’t need to know my whereabouts all hours of the day.”

He looks like he’s been slapped and you wince, already regretting the words. “That’s not–you think that’s what this is? Me being clingy? Or–or me trying to control what you do?”

“No–”

“Foggy said you ran out of there last night looking like you were about to burst into tears and all I could do was call and call and call and pray that you were okay. You went to your sister’s place in Jersey because you knew I wouldn’t be able to track you the further away you got, right? That I would have no idea where you were unless someone told me?"

You flinch, you can't help it. “That wasn’t the only rea–”

“And all because a woman mistook Karen as my girlfriend instead of you?” He asks incredulously. “How childish is that?”

It’s your turn to feel like you’ve been slapped. Your cheeks flood in shame, embarrassment, pain. You’re not quite sure how to respond to it, because a part of you knows how childish it had been. But the insecurity is not based on one event, but a series of them, and the chorus of voices in your head that tells you you're not good enough for him has been growing steadily louder since that night at the bar.

Matt’s words have effectively stunned you into silence, and while you open your mouth several times to speak, nothing comes out. Your shoulders sag, and you all but curl into yourself, hugging your arms around your waist in an effort to appear as small as possible.

To take up as little space as possible.

The way Matt is still tense tells you that he had been ready for you to fire something back at him, some sort of rebuttal that he’d easily tear down as he would in court, and when you don’t, he seems confused. His brow furrows as you all but wilt in front of him.

You watch as a flicker of realization passes over his face, and you cringe. He's caught on, and you don't like it.

“It actually…it actually hurt you,” he says, and his voice is startlingly quiet, a sharp contrast to the way he had sounded so heated and frustrated just moments before. “Didn’t it?”

You give a noncommittal shrug, shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly, but otherwise don’t have any sort of reaction.

Matt licks his lips, and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion even in your misery. “Why…why did that upset you so much?” You shrug your shoulders again, but he shakes his head, as if refusing your lack of a response. “No-no, don’t do that. You can’t have a reaction like that and expect me to just not say anything about it, to not want to know what’s wrong or what I can do to fix it. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes are welling with tears before you can even try to stop them, and with a quiet whine, you cover your face in your hands.

You hear Matt swear, and before you can even take your first shuddering breath, he is wrapped around you. Your head is tucked under his chin, a hand cradling the back of your skull to keep you pressed into him, the other wrapped around your back. You leave your hands covering your face, unwilling to tear down the barrier at the moment. You’re barely holding things in as it is, and the thought of exposing yourself to him completely right now is terrifying.

He’s whispering soothing words into your ear, the same things he always tells you when he knows you’re upset, and while the words take the edge off, they’re not a match for the misery that’s got you shredded by its claws.

Eventually he takes a step back, though his body is still pressed lightly against yours. With slow movements, he removes his arms from around you, and gently tries to pry your hands from your face. You struggle against him for a moment, tears still soaking your hands, but you give in, as you so often do, when it comes to the gentle force that is Matt Murdock.

He tilts your face up and places a soft kiss onto your forehead, palms cupping your face as he gently wipes the tears that have dripped down your cheeks. His eyes dance blindly across your face, and though he can’t see the way your sadness has literally poured from you, he can feel the way the heat of the tears have scalded you on their way down.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, still cradling your face in his scarred, calloused hands. “What happened?”

You take a deep breath, one that sounds more like a gasp than anything, and keep your eyes squeezed shut. “Everyone always…everyone always assumes you’re with her.”

“With Karen?”

You nod, fingers twisting themselves into the t-shirt he’s wearing.

“It’s happened more than once?”

“It happens all the time,” you tell him with something that sounds suspiciously like another sob. His frown deepens. “And maybe…maybe I just hear it more now because I've become so sensitive to it, but it’s happened quite a few times. And I know how stupid it is because I shouldn’t listen to what other people say, but it still just sucks to hear it over and over again.”

“What do people say?”

You try to twist out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. He presses another kiss to your forehead and asks the question again, softer this time. “They say…they say how beautiful you are together. How you’ll have beautiful children together. And when they–when they see that you’re with me instead, it’s almost like it’s offensive to them.”

Matt makes a mournful sound in the back of his throat, thumb catching a new wave of tears that trail down your cheeks at the admission. “None of that matters to me. You know that. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and I don't need to be able to see you to know that.”

“I know,” you whimper, and the sound makes you feel borderline pathetic. “But it matters to me.”

“Why, sweetheart?”

“Because it’s like everyone is saying I’m not good enough for you,” you say, still keeping your eyes closed as you expel the root of the insecurity. You feel like you're tearing yourself apart for him, the wounds every bit as real as the ones you spend night after night patching up on him.

“She is beautiful and kind and all the wonderful things you can think about a person. And I love Karen, she is such a wonderful person, and I'm incredibly lucky to call her a friend." You open your eyes briefly, taking in the way Matt looks just as pained at the words spilling from your mouth. "But it’s hard when everyone is basically telling me that she’s the person you should be with. And it’s–it’s not like I haven’t thought the same thing before. But hearing it come from other people just makes it worse.”

“Why would you–”

“And then Foggy told me–”

“Foggy?”

“--that you and Karen used to date,” you continue, as if the words can’t be stopped now. “He told me that you were together briefly, and that maybe it would have continued had Elektra not come into the picture. He said he had half-expected you two to perhaps get back together, or to try again. And I couldn’t help but think that maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. That maybe I’m just some placeholder until–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he says, and though he hasn’t raised his voice, the tone is stern and it finally manages to cut you off. You lower your head, but he lifts it back up. “Open your eyes.” With a deep breath, you do so, his face coming into view above yours. His mouth is parted in something that both resembles shock and slight frustration. “I am with you because I love you. Not because I can’t have Karen. Not because it didn’t work out with her. I am not with her because I don’t want her. I want you, only you.”

“But–”

“We went on one date, and I knew pretty early on that even though it felt nice for a moment, it was never going to be something that was sustainable, or worth fighting for because she wasn’t right for me. There is nothing between us, and there hasn’t been in years, and there won’t ever be again, because I am with the person I want to be with,” he tells you fiercely, pressing his forehead into yours, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I am yours in every single way. And whatever you need from me to help you believe that, say the word and it’s yours.”

His tone is once again quiet and gentle by the time he’s finished speaking, and the words are a balm that rushes through your skin, putting out and soothing the heat and anxiety that has been coursing through your veins since the night before. You take shuddering breath after shuddering breath, attempting to bring your heart rate back down to normal, and at last you succeed.

“Sweetheart?” he asks gently when you’re quiet for too long. He pulls his head back, head tilted down towards you in the way you’re so familiar with. “Tell me what you need from me.”

You shake your head, contemplating the right words. “I can’t think of anything that you don’t already do, Matt,” you admit softly. “You…you already know what I need before I even know how to articulate it.”

He's quiet for a moment before he opens his mouth. "Do we need to…keep a little distance from her for a bit?" He looks deeply unsettled by the idea, and it's equally disorienting to you, too.

"God, no," you say with a gasp, jerking back as far as his hold on you will let you. "None of this is on her, at all. And I don't want her to feel like she did anything, because she didn't."

Matt looks relieved. "I didn't think it would be something you'd go for, but I wanted to throw it on the table, in case you did need some space."

You shake your head. "No, I don't need anything like that. I promise. Foggy and Karen are my friends, too, you know," you tell him, mouth tilted ever slightly at the corner as you think about all the memories you've shared over the past year. "Sure, I met them through you, but I love them. You're a package deal, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

He tucks a stand of hair behind your ear. "They feel the same way about you."

You can't help the way your smile widens slightly. "Good…I'm glad."

Matt places another kiss on your forehead, pausing again before he speaks. “I like to think I'm good at reading you,” he says softly, eyes landing on your shoulder, the color almost green in the sunlight that's pouring in from your kitchen window. “And I like to think that not a lot gets by me. But this did. And it seems like it’s been there for a while.”

You shrug, as always trying to downplay the way you’re feeling, but per usual, Matt doesn’t let you get away with it.

“It was a miss on my part,” he continues with a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on the fact that something was off.”

“Nothing about this is your fault, so please don’t apologize.” He opens his mouth to object, but you shush him with a soft finger on his lips. “I could have said something. I know how to use my words. I… purposefully avoided you when I was feeling like this because I knew you’d pull it out of me eventually. So that’s on me, I think.”

He looks contemplative for a second, before a small smile graces his face. You trace his mouth with the finger that’s already resting there, and he takes the opportunity to press a kiss to it. “I’ll make an effort to listen more for when something might be upsetting you, and you’ll make an effort to talk to me about it. Deal?”

Nodding, you mirror the small grin. “Deal.”

“And if I feel the need to pull you close and put my hands on you in public so that everyone knows you're mine, you'll be okay with that, right?"

You can't help but huff a laugh. "Matt–"

"Or if you prefer, you can do the same to me, whenever the need arises," he says innocently.

Your eyebrows raise. "Why do I feel like you're asking me to claim you in public?"

"It's a mutual claiming, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes fondly. "I guess when you put it that way, how can I say no?"

Matt smirks as he lowers his mouth towards yours, hand slipping into your hair so that you are angled perfectly beneath him. "Seal it with a kiss?”

“Absol–”

His lips are on yours before you’re done speaking the word.

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