( closed ) blind ninja meets whatever it is she is

[fogwells]

who: Matt Murdock & Jessica Jones
what: Super cool neighbors have a super friendly meeting!
when: August
where: Floor 9 of community housing
warnings: None, of course, absolutely nothing can go wrong!

[ He'd check to find out if Foggy and Karen were here, if they'd somehow been displaced like he was. Finding no hint of them, he wasn't sure whether to take it as something of relief or not. Not knowing enough about this place, it was hard to tell whether it was safer or more dangerous than Hell's Kitchen. Whichever was the worst, Matt didn't like not being with them to protect them.

The day had already been long, but it was just the beginning of his research, deciding to take it all one step at a time — all as Matt Murdock, and Matt Murdock alone.

Cane clutched in hand, he makes his way down the hallway of his floor, tapping at the ground in front of him. There's no need for it, not with his senses alerting him well of his surroundings, but he senses movement behind some of the doors to the other room. One in particular is about to be opened, sensing it in the way that feet tap across the floor, closer and closer.

When it opens, there's a woman there, practically his own height, with a heavy air about her.

Matt tilts his head up, facing her general direction, making sure not to look directly at her before shifting into a smile. ] Hi. You must be my neightbor.

Comments

[fogwells]

[ They don't talk about it. It becomes easier for both of them to simply bathe in the silence of it, to let passionate kisses do the talking, to save their voices for the desperation of moans and the echoes of their called out names — Matthew, he never forgets that sound, how he can taste his own name in the air when she breathes it.

Every night that week, he feels the tug of her fingers grasping at his hair as he moves against her, sweat amplifying the humidity of the room.

Hungry, he kisses her panting mouth without an extra word.

When his lips brush against her breast, the vibration of her beating heart continues to shock life back into him, reminding him what it is to be alive —



Christmas arrives without a warning. The long days spent in recovery in that apartment make him lose sight of the calendar, only truly aware of it when the chill begins to permeate outside. When he gets dressed, sliding on thick sweats and a jacket, he wonders what it's like to not hear the snow brush against the cold ground as he hears the whisper of it from outside the bedroom window.

As he seeks out a pair of clean socks, he checks through the drawers, where his clothes have been scattered through gradually over the past month. Letting his fingers caress the different fabrics to find what he's looking for, he stops when they slide over a gentle wool, a scarf.

"You look like an asshole."

"It's your scarf."

Matt smiles at the sudden memory, a whiff of his own shampoo still layered in the fabric from when he'd worn it over his head. He wraps it gently around his neck before continuing on his search for socks.



When he comes back, he can feel the air chillier through the apartment, the heater clearly not functioning as well as it should. Jessica's still fast asleep when he steps into the bedroom, though he hadn't expected so much of a stir from her. It's not even noon yet.

Setting the cups of hot chocolate on the night table, he seats himself at the edge of the bed, adjusting the scarf to tuck the cloth below his chin as he gazes down at her.

His fingers rest gently against her naked arm, thumb rubbing over the skin in a soft caress as he whispers quietly, ] Hey.

[hardedged]

[ the world has shifted since matthew murdock entered her life again. jessica jones prefers to profess that she needs nothing from other people, that she can content herself with solitude. she's always possessed a talent for running away; it's a natural instinct, especially when emotions are involved.

however, those two days she spent alone — mourning his loss through copious amounts of alcohol, belied that pretense.

she doesn't remember falling asleep by his side. the last memory that resonates within her head is the union of their bodies, their limbs entwined. they've been hooking up regularly over the past week, even if they have chosen not to acknowledge it aloud. to her, this is merely a way for them to pass the time, to return to their old and familiar routine.

there's nothing more to it, or so she tells herself.

her gaze slowly opens as matt stirs jess from her slumber, her eyes taking a moment to focus on him. he resembles a celestial entity, looking down on her with affection, and his presence evokes an ineffable warmth inside her chest. ]

Hey. [ jess mumbles, her voice soft as she gradually awakens. catching a glimpse of her scarf around his neck, she furrows her brow. ] What the hell are you wearing?

[fogwells]

[ The sheets rustle against her skin as she moves, her breath warm as she stirs awake. Matt almost regrets not letting her sleep for a bit longer.

It takes him a beat to figure out what she's addressing, his head tilting in minor confusion over whether he might have chosen mismatched colors for his attire today — even with his heightened senses, there's still some things he remains entirely blind to. But his fingers brush over the scarf around his neck and he gives a subtle smile. ]

It was chilly out. And, uh — [ He gives a casual shrug. ] This proved pretty useful the last time I borrowed it.

[hardedged]

[ jessica hasn't seen the piece of fabric in over a month, considering how she purposely concealed it. the article reminded her too much of his absence, sparked painful visions of the future from which she wanted to escape.

however, observing him wearing the scarf now — it's an apt visual. it suits him perfectly. ]

You still look like an asshole.

[ she comments, in a desperate attempt to suppress the surge of emotion that threatens to overwhelm her. rising from the mattress, she sits up and gathers the comforter around her slender frame. shit, she fell asleep with him. not for the first time either.

after a pause, her peripheral vision notes the two cups of hot chocolate on the night table. ]

That better be booze.

[fogwells]

[ Matt sometimes finds comfort, safety, in familiarity. When she mutters an old phrase that links almost exclusively to her, the edges of his lips curve into a soft rise, with a sigh that leaves him oddly relaxed in her presence.

He shifts on the mattress, scooting away a few inches to give her room to sit up, not rushing her in her gradual process to wake. ]

No, not booze. [ He doesn't doubt she's already preparing for a rejection, but he tries to continue fast. ] Gives a surprisingly better kick. Plus, it's a bit more appropriate for the occasion.

[hardedged]

[ with a soft groan, jess pulls herself up, sitting against the headboard. then, she reaches over, grasping the nearest mug before taking a sip. it's delicious. for what it's worth, murdock knows his way around a kitchen. more than she does, at least. ]

Could use some whiskey. [ a beat of silence. ] But it's not half bad.