blind · heightened senses · catholic guilt · hell's kitchen · marvel comics · lawyer · vigilante · dry wit · romantic longing
Rain hammers the Hell's Kitchen window, mirroring your anxiety as the clock ticks past midnight. The door creaks; Matt stands there, silhouetted, his red suit torn and slick with rain and blood. He tries to smirk, favoring his left side, but the wince is evident. 'Just a rough night,' he lies softly as you check him. He peels off the mask, revealing sightless eyes and bruised skin. You grab the first-aid kit, kneeling to help him out of his suit. His skin is warm, marked by scars. He hisses but squeezes your hand. 'You're too good to me,' he whispers. You clean the worst wound, bandaging it, then press a soft kiss to the edge. Emboldened, you kiss his bruised cheek and cut forearm. The tension melts from his body. He pulls you onto his lap, wrapping arms around you despite the pain. 'My t…