Curate, connect, and discover
i’ve never made a request before so sorry if this is bad but if you could write something about matt murdock with a fake dating trope like that would be so cute, especially if there’s feelings realized during/after it :)
a/n: i swear, i tried to just keep this short and sweet like how i usually keep requests, but then the fantasy i came up with was just too fun and too much like a fucking romcom not to just let myself go ham and turn it into a full-on long fic
word count: 3778
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Leaning your weight against the bar, you waited for Josie to return with another round of beers for you and your friends, who still remained exactly where you’d left them, all clustered around the pool table further into the space.
Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the ring so often glued to your fingers, passing the heirloom from each digit and sliding it onto the next. It had been your grandmother’s, and ever since her passing, the simple golden circle with a little jade embedded at the cusp of it, rarely stayed in your jewellery box as the act of simply glancing down at it on your finger somehow offered you a drop of comfort in moments of mundane gloom.
As the heirloom arrived at your left ring finger and slid down over the knuckle, a familiar voice suddenly emanated like an echo after the bar’s front door had swung open.
“Y/n?” your whole body froze up at the unexpected timbre.
Slowly, you twisted around to discover none other than your ex, wide eyes trained on you as he clutched the hand of a leggy blonde.
“Henry!” you gasped, hoping they mistook the horrified look on your face for innocent shock, “oh my god…”
Without any warning, the next thing you knew, he’d yanked your stunned form into a hug, “how the hell are you?” he clapped your shoulder as if you were old school chums, “it’s been so long.”
“I’m–, uhm, fine,” you managed to reply.
“Yeah?” he smiled, the insincerity in your tone completely flying over his head, “that’s great.”
Simply to be polite, you awkwardly asked, “…how are you?” even though you truly didn’t wish to know the answer.
“I’m good, yeah, life’s been kinda crazy lately because–, oh,” he suddenly paused to glance back at the girl by his side, “Y/n, you remember Rebecca, right?”
“Mhm,” you hummed and offered her a glance, fearing steam might billow out of your ears at any moment, “hi.”
“Hey,” she smiled brightly as she tossed her luscious locks over her shoulder, “and please don’t mind him,” she clapped a palm over Henry’s chest, “he’s just freaking out, you know, usual guy stuff before finally getting tied down.”
“I’m sorry,” you blinked, nearly pinching yourself to test if this was a nightmare or not, “before what?”
Rebecca then held up her left hand to flash you the massive rock nestled on her fourth finger.
“I finally popped the question!” Henry grinned and draped an arm around his fiancé.
“Wow, oh wow, that’s–…” you sputtered as the blonde promptly shoved her hand in your face for you to get a better look, “that’s a really big rock, right there, on your finger…” your touch floated up and tilted her palm slightly, the light from the neon sign close by glinting in the diamond, “congratulations…”
“Thanks!” she smiled down at the ring herself before her fingers suddenly captured your own and twisted your hand around, “oh wait, congrats to you too!”
“What?” you still simply tried to keep breathing through this agonising gut-punch of an encounter.
“I know they say that size doesn’t matter,” Rebecca eyed the tiny green stone that adorned your grandmother’s ring, “and it doesn’t! I mean, that’s so pretty,” she uttered in a sugary sweet and insincere tone that made you feel as if you were back in high school again, “understated, simple.”
“Ah, no way,” Henry peeked down at your hand, “you’re engaged too?”
“Uh…” you let out a shaky breath, “yep,” the lie then suddenly flew out past your lips before you had a chance to stop it, “that’s me! I’m getting married.”
“That’s amazing,” your ex let out an airy chuckle, “who’s the lucky guy?”
But before your lips could part and let out another lie, Josie returned, “here you go, hon,” and slid four beer bottles across the bar to you before adding, “and would you tell Foggy to stop sitting on the edge of the pool table? It’s old and I can’t be responsible if it breaks on him.”
“Sure thing,” you promised and snatched up the drinks.
“Is that your man?” Henry cast a glance to the lawyer Josie had gestured to, “Foggy, was it?”
“Foggy?” a soft giggle couldn’t help but bubble out of your lungs, “no! Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, but no, sadly, he’s already taken.”
“Then who is it?”
“Is it the other guy over there?” Rebecca chimed in as they both sent their glances towards your friends, “the one in the light blue shirt and tinted glasses?”
“Uh, yeah…” you squeaked as you slowly turned to look at Matt as well, “that’s–, uh, that’s him,” you watched as he readjusted his grip on the cue stick in his hand, “that’s my future husband…”
“Hm,” a sliver of judgment slipped out of Henry, “wouldn’t have pegged him to be your type.”
“Well, maybe my type has changed,” you stated, letting your lingering resentment show before you noticed how harsh it had come out and your stomach immediately began to twist and knot in regret, “I–…” you swiftly winched, “sorry,” and averted your gaze, “have a nice evening, uh–, I’m gonna go back to my friends,” you stumbled as you tried to escape.
Though as you turned to walk away, Henry’s voice found your ears one last time, “bye!” before you heard his fiancé turn to him.
“Pookie? Would you order me a cosmo?” her voice began to fade into the background, “I’ll go find us a table…”
You simultaneously felt as if a truck had just run you over as your feet carried you back towards your friends, yet also completely numb, as if you’d been turned into a floating ghost of the person you used to be.
“Who the hell was that and why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Foggy asked cautiously as he grabbed two of the bottles in your grasp and handed one off to Matt.
Passing one of the remaining drinks off to Karen, you then lifted your own up to your lips before tipping it back and downing around half of its contents. Once you tilted the dark green bottle back down, you were out of breath as you began to explain, “that,” you wiped your bottom lip with one of your knuckles, “was my ex,” you used that same finger to hazily point back over your shoulder, “and his fiancé,” your eyes stayed fuzzy as you added, “who happen to be the girl that he cheated on me with for a year before I one day finally caught them together.”
“Oh my god…” Karen breathed, her bottle frozen halfway on its journey up towards her lips.
“It was on easter,” you shared, “he thought I had gone back home to see my family, but I’d actually decided to secretly do this whole big surprise, like I thought I was in fucking rom-com or something,” you sighed at your past self, “but then when he got home from work, and I was all decked out, waiting on the bed, in bunny ears and everything,” you heatedly gestured to the top of your own head, “he wasn’t alone.”
“Wow…” Foggy stared.
“Yep…” you exhaled heavily, taking another swig before you made the mistake of glancing back over your shoulder just as Rebecca shrugged off her coat and slinked onto a stool at one of the small tables, “fuck!” you exclaimed as if you’d just stubbed your toe, “she’s even hotter than I remembered. How is that possible?”
“Oh, she’s not that pretty,” Karen tried, but you swiftly cut her off.
“You shut your face, she’s basically a human-sized Barbie,” your glare roamed one last time from the top of her platinum locks to the bottoms of her high stilettos, “god…” you sighed as you finally averted your gaze and lifted your bottle to drown your sorrows, “I was such an idiot back there. It was like my brain just stopped working and–, oh my god!” your palm shot up to cover your mouth as you then suddenly recalled the lie that had slipped out. Slowly, your wide eyes drifted to Matt, who still remained silent, “oh no…”
“What is it?” Foggy chimed in.
“Matt…” you uttered tensely, knowing your friend well enough to be aware of just how much of the interaction with your ex he had overheard, “I am so sorry…”
“What?” Karen’s glance darted between you both, “what’s going on?”
Paralysing embarrassment churned your stomach and choked out any attempt you made to share the truth. But luckily, as your erratic heartbeat thumped and found Matt’s sharp ears, he eventually filled in instead, “…they thought that she was engaged as well and then assumed that I was the guy.”
“I am so, so sorry,” you gasped, “I don’t know why I didn’t correct them.”
But to your amazement, Matthew simply shrugged and offered you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
“I was just fiddling with my ring and then they just–…” you then snuffed out your frantic explanation and instead repeated once again, “I’m sorry…”
Saddling up beside you, Karen planted a palm on your shoulder, “hey, if that was my ex, then I’d wanna give him some of his own medicine as well,” she stated, “if not just straight up cut off his balls, which is what he really deserves.”
A faint smile then began to soften your expression as you glanced around at your supportive friends, Foggy briefly reaching out to pat your other shoulder.
But as you averted your eyes to the nearly empty bottle in your grasp, a thought suddenly struck you like a bolt of lightning, “wait, I have an idea…” your gaze slowly lifted to lock on Matt, “I mean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I totally get it, but would you mind, just while they are here, to–, uhm…”
Cocking his eyebrow, he finished your sentence, “…to pretend to be your fiancé?”
“I know, it’s stupid, and I should probably just go home right now instead of playing some weird and immature game of revenge or whatever,” you uttered as you made the decision to lie in the grave you’d dug for yourself, “but I would forever be in your debt, I'm serious.”
Sucking in a breath, he barely had to think about it before he murmured, “sure.”
“Really?” you gasped, your brows shooting up, “you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, why not?” Matt shrugged, “it’s the very least he deserves for treating you like that.”
“Oh,” you crossed the short distance between you two and threw your arms around him. It took a second before you felt him hug you back, but when the alcohol got to your head and made you mutter, “I love you,” into his shoulder, a low chuckle rumbled in the lawyer's chest before you parted ways.
“So,” Karen then began to fish out the colourful spheres and roll them back into the green felt, “do we still wanna play another game?”
“Hell yeah,” Foggy picked a cue stick back up before adding a playful threat, “you’re not beating me again this time, Page.”
Once the table was set up for another round of pool and you were a few turns in, your gaze couldn’t help but wander back towards the other end of the bar too often to keep track of. Though, soon on one of the fleeting looks, your eyes grew wide as you discovered you weren’t the only one sneaking glances.
Discreetly, you shifted closer to Matthew and leaned in to whisper, “he’s looking over,” however, when he then draped an arm around your frame, you couldn’t help but stiffen up, as you hadn’t thought that far in the plan yet, “what are you–”
“Shh,” Matt hushed your squeak, “just lean into me,” he shifted to stand tall behind you, arms enveloped around your form as he slowly drew you back against his chest, “smile,” his low voice tickled the shell of your ear and caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “and don’t look at him.”
Redirecting your vision back towards the game before you, you narrowly managed to catch sight of the silent slut-shaming the other lawyer flashed his friend with but a glance, before he went back to the mischievous mission he was on.
“Foggy, would you quit it?” Karen grumbled at the man beside her as he wildly waved both of his hands in her periphery, successfully knocking off her concentration as she tried to line up her shot.
“No way,” he kept up his flapping, even causing Karen’s golden locks to get picked up by the breeze he produced.
“You’re cheating.”
“Nope, I am not touching you nor the table,” he stated as if he was in court, “distracting you doesn’t break any rules.”
And as she finally made her attempt, the ball didn’t go in, causing her to explode in a roar, “damn it, Fog!”
“Ha, ha, yes!” he jumped as she straightened back up, “you know, I taste something right now, what could that be? Oh yeah, victory. And it tastes sweet as candy store.”
“Urgh,” Karen rolled her eyes at him before her glare landed upon the both of you, “Matt, your turn. Would you please set him in his place?”
“Gladly,” Matt chuckled, and as he shifted closer to the pool table, he nudged your side and asked, “hey, would you give me a hand?”
Swallowing a chuckle as you already knew he very much didn’t need it, you cocked an eyebrow, “you want my help?”
“Yeah,” he uttered clearly and let his real message seep through his tone, guiding your gaze to flicker back toward Henry, who’s stare was still locked upon you both, “so come help me.”
“Oh!” it finally clicked in your brain, “right,” and you swiftly slid in beside him.
With bated breath, you grabbed Matt’s hand that wasn’t clutching the pole, and guided it over the ivory ball that rested close to one of the corners. As you began to map out and tell him where each of the other spheres were, your eyes flicked over to notice just how close you now stood, as your nose nearly grazed against his stubbly cheek as you murmured guidingly. When you retracted your touch, you barely noticed how a few of Matt’s fingers reacted, faintly following your fading palm for but a second before it floated back down to the white orb below it.
Once he’d made his shot, you lingered in the proximity and whispered, “do you think they’re buying it?”
“Hm?”
“This,” your eyes momentarily flickered back towards your ex across the bar, “us.”
Matthew’s brows then floated up as you reeled him back in to the matter at hand, “oh, I–, probably.”
“Or should we do something else?” your mind kept on spinning, “I don’t know, I feel like I’ve completely forgotten how all of that works,” you shared, “kinda just numbed and cut off that part of myself after he broke my heart, it was just how I had to get through it, shut down a little bit because suddenly romance was terrifying…”
“...can I ask you something?” he asked quietly after a breath, and when you offered him a hum in confirmation, he uttered, “are you still in love with him?”
Time stretched out before you finally replied, “I was, for a very long time…” your voice stayed small, “…but no, not anymore… I kind of thought I was, but then seeing him again cleared it all up. All I feel when I look at him now is rage,” you exhaled, “and pity, just because I know him too well, know everything that’s messed up about him…” silence encumbered you both for a moment before you then opened your mouth once more and said, “so, should we hold hands or something?” you asked plainly, though when a genuine laugh then began to billow out of Matthew, your eyes blinked up at him as your brows swiftly knit together, “what?”
“You know,” he tried to snuff out his chuckle, “if I was actually your fiancé, I wouldn’t just stand around and hold your hand all night,” he then leaned in the short distance till his lips nearly tickled the shell of your ear, “I would have dragged you into the bathroom by now and forced the whole bar to hear us fuck.”
“I–, u-uhm,” you flusteredly stammered as your face began to heat up, “y-yeah, yeah, that’s good too,” you barely registered your own words as they slipped out past your lips, “if that’s what you wanna do–, I mean! Shut up!” you squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you regained your own senses, “just hold my hand, you dick,” you cursed over his laughter as he swiftly slipped his palm into your own.
“Cut it out, Karen,” Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and caught your attention.
Glancing over, you spotted as Karen was giving him some of his own medicine, pettily leaning into his eye line, “what? You were the one saying that distractions weren’t against the rules,” she continued to glare in hopes of throwing him off his game, “why? Is this not working? Do you need me to scream directly in your ear instead?”
“Oh, would you?” he sarcastically looked to her, his pitch climbing up high at his words, “going deaf in one ear is exactly what I need to beat you.”
As your wandering gaze then flickered back towards the opposite end of the bar, your eyes grew wide as you spotted only Rebecca still seated at the small table, pink cocktail in her grasp.
“Shit,” you spotted Henry as he crossed the room, confidently walking precisely in your direction, “he’s coming over,” you hissed, and in your muppet-like panic, your hands clasped each side of Matt’s face and yanked him in for a kiss.
At first, he froze up as you continued to freak out, but then, as his broad palms slowly slid over your waist, all of your alarm began to melt away. It felt as if you were drifting off to sleep as you relaxed into the kiss. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that kissing Matt would feel like this, not that such a fantasy was something you pondered often or even at all, but as you felt his tongue flicker out to dance softly against your own, your knees beneath you wobbled as you lost yourself completely. How long the peck drew out remained a mystery, as when you eventually parted, the reasoning behind it wouldn’t emerge in your memory no matter how hard you tried.
Though as you stood there, blinking back at Matt, still utterly spellbound by the unexpected feelings currently bubbling and bursting inside of you, the man now standing off to the side cleared his throat and brought you back down to earth.
“Bunny–, I mean, Y/n,” you whipped your head around to catch sight of your ex, “just thought it would have been awkward if I didn’t come over here to introduce myself before me and Becca took off,” he muttered before his gaze fell to Matt, his arms slowly fading from your form, “I'm Henry, nice to meet you,” your ex then offered his hand, though the lawyer by your side didn’t grasp it, even if his heightened senses had lent him to pick up on the gesture.
“Matt Murdock,” he uttered on a cold exhale.
Stuffing his rejected palm into his pocket, Henry then asked, “what do you do?”
“Matthew’s a lawyer,” you took over, slotting yourself into Matt’s side before you dramatically clasped a hand over his chest, “saves people for a living. That’s actually why we’re out celebrating tonight, he just won yet another case.”
“Oh, well congratulations then,” Henry offered in well-forged petty politeness.
“Yeah, I was there, watching him do his thing,” you uttered as some bitter goblin of resentment then took over your soul and caused you to say, “and oh boy, I tell you, if only it would have been socially acceptable for me to interrupt the trial just to rip his clothes off, because wow.”
A scoff then rippled in Henry’s chest, “okay, sure,” his stare upon you narrowed as he then grumbled, “we both know you’re not exactly the groupie type of girlfriend.”
“Well, maybe your sorry ass was never worth her supporting you in that way,” Matt suddenly cut in, “maybe because you never bothered treated her that way in return,” his guess hit the bullseye, “and maybe that has a little something to do with why I was the one to put a ring on her finger and not you,” your heart thumped in your chest as Matt’s touch returned to the small of your back, protectively sliding over your waist as he continued to speak in a low and chillingly stern tone, “that or you really are as terrible of a lay as she told me you were, during those very first nights when she finally learned what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t a complete fucking idiot.”
Utterly stunned, you watched Henry’s expression as he scrambled his brain for a way to crawl back from that, but eventually, when no suitable words came to his pea-sized brain, his feet slowly began to shuffle back till his hand had snatched up his fiancé’s and he’d yanked her with him out of the bar.
As the door swung closed behind the pair, a celebratory squeal burst from your lungs, “oh my god! Matt, that was incredible!” you jumped in place before throwing your arms around him, “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Tangling his own arms around you, he uttered, “I’m sure we’ll come up with some way you can make it up to me.”
And as you withdrew, just enough to smile back at him, your gaze began to drift back down towards his lip just before Foggy’s voice cut through the palpable tension.
“Do I need to remind you guys that you’re not actually engaged?”
“No,” Matt then murmured as the two of you parted ways, quietly enough for his words to be completely inaudible, “but we could be...”
“What?” you glanced over at him.
“What?” he echoed in return, though a bit too quickly.
“Did you say something?”
“Me? No,” he tried to conceal his lie with a cough, “I-I, uh, think it’s your turn,” he then changed the subject, gesturing to the pool table behind you.
© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble
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Prompt: 2 -“Why? Why do you love me?” + 10 - “I'm not good enough.” Character: Matt Murdock Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader, part of Mrs. Murdock series. Word Count: ~540 Warning(s): Self-loathing, negative self-talk, referenced off-screen violent death, grief Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober Masterlist
There was more to your husband than met the eye.
Few who had met Matt Murdock would have liken him to the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The ferocious vigilante prowling the streets, putting the fear of God into criminals with his fists would seem a far cry from the soft-spoken, mild-mannered defense attorney.
They didn’t see the same thirst for justice. The intense drive that sometimes had Matt working from first light until well past midnight. The determination that led him to fight through pain and exhaustration to save someone. How he bled for every person he couldn’t save, whether it was from violence or the injustice of the system.
They didn’t see the man you married.
And the most heartbreaking thing of all was that sometimes Matt himself couldn’t see that man either. Days where he couldn’t find a single good thing to say about himself.
This was one of those days. Because tonight, despite doing everything in his power, the victim hadn’t made it. Bled out before the ambulance could arrive. Worse, it was someone you had both known. Prue Hamilton, the granddaughter of Mrs. Hamilton from the bakery, who brought cookies to the kids at St. Agnes every Christmas. A beautiful young woman who should have had her whole life ahead of her. Slain while picking up some milk on her way home from work.
Matt blamed himself. Because that was who he was. Pacing the apartment like a trapped tiger, beating himself up in black tirade of bile. He wasn’t fast enough. Strong enough. Powerful enough. All his abilities were useless. He was useless. Why had you married anyone as worthless as him?
“Matty, you aren’t worthless,” you objected, finally able to get a word in edgewise. “And I married you because I love you.”
“Why?” he demanded. There was so much self-loathing in that single word. It broke your heart. “Why do you love me? I’m not good enough.”
“Yes, you are Matt,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. How could I do anything else but love you?””
He remained stiff in your arms, fighting the comfort that he didn’t think he deserved. But he wasn’t the only one who was stubborn. You would stand here all night if that’s what it took. Humming a soft wordless melody, you began to rub his back
Matt might be stubborn but he craved the affection that had been so often lacking from his life. Eventually his body began to relax, becoming looser. Those arms began to rise, then hesitated.
“It’s okay, Matty,” you murmured into his neck. You didn’t care that his hands were covered in drying blood from his desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding. He didn’t need any further encouragement, wrapping his arms around you. Lightly at first, like he was afraid that you would pull away now. Reject him like so many had before you.
You squeezed him tighter in response, silently cursing all the people who had left such deep wounds in your husband’s soul. He squeezed back, burying his face in your neck. You felt more than saw the moment the rage that had been fueling him sputtered out and he began to cry.
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Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]
Tuna-Tober Prompt: “Why? Why do you love me?”
Warnings/tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, almost breakup
Summary: Matt has been acting cold for the past couple of weeks–ever since you told him you loved him.
a/n: Of course Matt was the first one who came to my mind for this prompt. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
“We’re done,” Matt stated. “That’s it. I can’t do this any longer.”
A thick and palpable tension hung in the air at Matt’s words, a heaviness so pervasive that you didn't need his heightened senses to feel it filling the apartment. Standing beside the leather couch, your arms tightly wrapped around yourself as if they alone were the only thing holding you together. Heart pounding rapidly inside of your chest, it felt close to bursting straight out if you dared to move your arms even an inch.
Across the room, Matt stood in front of the large living room windows with his back turned to you. The light from the billboard across the street washed the front of him in a dark crimson, casting looming shadows along his tense and rigid form. His hands were situated on his hips, fingers digging so sharply into his dress pants that they were pulling the fabric even more taut around his waist. Everything about his posture–from his clenched jaw to his squared shoulders–felt as if he was intentionally shutting you out as well as keeping a physical distance between the pair of you.
This is it, you thought. This is where he finally tries to push me away.
You’d known Matt for a while now. Long enough to know how he operated when things became just a bit too much for him or if someone grew a bit too close. Over time you’d slowly learned the signs of when he’d start to close himself off, beginning to read him sometimes better than he thought he could even read you.
It had been ten months since you’d met Matt while working on an article for The Bulletin. You’d interviewed him about a case that his firm had won and the pair of you had steadily and easily grown closer together after that initial encounter. Neither of you had been able to stay away from the other. You’d long since been past the point of just dating and occasionally sleeping together–you’d been an official couple for months now. You had clothing hanging in his closet and you knew exactly where he stored the red Daredevil suit that he donned most evenings. You knew about his past from the many late nights he'd opened up to you either after a rough patrol as the Devil or a case he was particularly fired up over.
But lately Matt had started to become prickly around you. Constantly on edge. Canceling dates and intentionally trying to avoid you. He was often gone in the mornings the few times you’d stayed over at his apartment, not even giving you his usual goodbye kiss before he left. He hadn’t invited you over as frequently either because most nights now he told you that he planned to stay late at the office before running out to deal with one thing or another as Daredevil.
This had all started just over two weeks ago. Right around the time you’d first told him you loved him. He’d seemed off that night, too. You remembered how he’d suddenly grown quiet in bed, his expression shifting to something impossible to read as he almost immediately shut you out. You’d assured him that you hadn’t expected him to say it back in the moment–and you’d meant that. You knew he’d heard the truth in the firm beat of your heart. Because you loved Matt. You knew him opening his heart up to let someone in was not something he did easily, and you were prepared to continue proving to him that you weren’t about to disappear from his life like he seemed to secretly fear.
You’d long since wondered if his sudden coldness was some sort of a test, one he himself wasn’t even aware he was putting you through. As if he expected you to leave at the first sign of difficulty in the relationship which had otherwise been fairly smooth. You’d always encouraged open communication between you both–something else you were aware he struggled with–but you’d always been patient and understanding with him, which was what you’d tried to be over these past couple of weeks.
Until this very moment. Because right now you did not fully understand why Matt had just told you that he couldn’t continue the relationship anymore. You could feel the tears building in your eyes as you stared at the back of his navy blue dress shirt, your eyes fixed on the wrinkles that formed throughout his work day. In your chest, you could feel your heart teetering on the verge of shattering, ready to break into pieces with only a few more words from his mouth. You found yourself wondering if Matt would be able to hear your heart break.
But you didn't want to let him go without a fight. You didn’t want to lose him. You loved him far too much to let him self-sabotage the relationship you'd both created and poured yourselves into over the past few months without even trying to get through to him first.
“There’s no way you mean any of that, Matt,” you told him, shaking your head and ignoring the sting of tears in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
His head snapped to the side when you'd finally spoken, the sharp angle of his profile swathed in red just over the top of his broad shoulder. His jaw was set firm, but even in the light from the billboard you could see the muscle jumping in his cheek.
“And what makes you think that?” he asked, a rough edge to his words.
“Because,” you answered, taking a small, hesitant step towards him and noticing the way he flinched. “I know you. I think you’re just trying to hurt me to avoid the perceived hurt you think is bound to happen if you continue getting close to me. Growing comfortable in our relationship. Because you think I’m going to leave you. You think it's inevitable.”
The muscle jumped in Matt's cheek again, the only movement you caught on his otherwise immobile body. Pressing your lips together, you tried to fight the way they'd begun to quiver. In this moment, it felt more like you were approaching a feral cat than a grown man–a feeling you'd experienced a few times with Matt in the past. And you knew right now that if you showed him any sign of weakness he'd pounce on it.
“You're scared,” you continued slowly, taking another cautious step towards him. “I think you're terrified of how great things have been between us. I think you feel as if you don't deserve the happiness I've seen written on your face when we're together.”
Something like an agitated growl rumbled in his chest at your words. Not exactly a noise of disagreement, but also not exactly the sound of a warning. It sounded more alarmed than anything, which had you feeling more confident that you'd just struck the exact problem he'd created in his mind.
“But you're wrong,” you assured him firmly. “You deserve love and happiness, Matthew. And I intend to be here with you. I will happily spend every day right by your side helping you until you see it for yourself.”
You took another cautious and careful step towards him, but you stopped moving the second you saw his lip curl back into something like a snarl. You could see his eyes narrow at you even behind the lenses of his red glasses just before he spoke.
“Why?” he growled. “Tell me why.”
Swallowing hard, your hands nervously curled up inside the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “Why what?” you whispered.
“Why do you love me?” he demanded. “Why? How could you possibly love me?”
Freezing on the spot as your breath hitched, confusion briefly washed over you. Despite having now learned his strange behavior had indeed been brought about by you saying that you loved him for the first time weeks ago, it had taken you entirely off guard that he'd wanted an actual explanation as to why you did. But then again, that really shouldn't have surprised you quite so much considering you knew just how unlovable he thought he was. And you weren’t going to let an opportunity to tell him how you really felt slip between your fingers.
“Because you have the biggest heart I've ever seen, Matthew,” you began softly, emotion thick in your voice. “You keep it buried deep in your chest, hiding it from everyone, but I see it. Every time you come home with another banana bread or casserole dish and an excited story about how you helped someone in this city who'd otherwise have been looked over because they couldn’t afford good legal representation. I see it when you come home late at night bruised, exhausted, and bleeding but grinning in triumph as you tell me who you saved. I see it whenever you just simply look at me.”
The snarl that had initially curled his lips back gradually slipped off of his face while you'd been speaking, the hard lines of his body slowly beginning to soften. He didn't speak, but his shift in body language had given you some hope back. Hope that you could get through to him.
“And I'm not bothered by how much of yourself you give to this city,” you continued, once more carefully closing the space between you both as you slowly lowered your arms to your sides. “I admire you for it, Matthew. Ever since you told me the truth. I've never disliked that part of you. I’ve never taken issue with it. I’ve never been afraid of you. That part of you has only made me admire you more. Love you more.”
You were standing a few feet away from him now, able to see the faint tremble of his lips with how close you were. Everything you were saying was having an effect on him so you continued, hoping your words would start to sink in. Even just a little.
“And it's not just that I admire that big, beautiful heart in your chest,” you told him, “but I admire that big, beautiful brain in that handsome head of yours.” You paused, smiling a little back at him. “I think you're incredibly smart and brilliant, Matt. In and out of the courtroom. You're fiercely passionate about justice no matter the cost to yourself–whether it's sleepless nights out on the rooftops or hours pouring over files here at your apartment. And you're funny when you let yourself stop being so broody most days,” you said, your small smile growing a bit more on your lips as a tear slipped down your cheek. “You brighten my days more than you know, Matty. Always helping me to find the light in the darkness when I think there isn't any. Seeing the good in everyone…except for yourself.”
Reaching up, you wiped away another stray tear that had raced down your cheek with the back of your hand. Matt sniffled quietly, his shoulders sagging as he finally and hesitantly turned towards you. His hands had fallen from his hips, hanging at his sides as his fingers twitched.
“Do you really want me to go?” you whispered, more tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. “Because I–I can take my things and leave if that's what you really want, Matt. I can walk out that door and leave you alone.”
Matt shook his head firmly, his mouth visibly trembling at your words. Tears had managed to slide their way beneath his glasses, trailing their way down his cheeks. The sight had your own tears falling faster as he timidly approached you, closing the small bit of distance that remained.
“No,” he breathed out. “No, I don't really want that.”
Feeling a flood of relief, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist. Drawing himself the rest of the way into the front of you, Matt immediately buried his face directly against your neck. You could feel a dampness forming on your skin from his tears, the feeling only causing you to hold him tighter.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed into your skin. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want you to go. I didn’t mean it. I’m just–just–”
Turning your head, you buried your face into his hair as your hands began rubbing light and soothing patterns over his back while he struggled to find the words he wanted. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you breathed in that warm, rich scent that was always uniquely Matt. With his warm body wrapped around you, your once rapidly beating heart began slowing back to a normal rhythm.
“I know,” you murmured back, lips brushing his hair as you spoke. “I know you didn’t mean it, Matty. Relationships are scary,” you told him. “Giving someone so much of yourself is terrifying, I get it. But I love you and I don’t want to leave you. I’m not going to leave you.”
With his face still buried against your throat, you felt his features screw up against your skin before another rush of Matt’s warm, wet tears began to slide down your neck. Your hands fisted his dress shirt, holding him even tighter to the front of yourself as he cried. You didn’t need him to explain why he’d suddenly begun to weep because you’d already known the answer. He’d heard the truth in your explanation for why you loved him as you’d spoken them aloud. The same unwavering truth that was always present in your words.
“I love you,” he whispered into your skin. “And I don’t think I could ever stop.”
A smile pulled your lips upwards, tears burning at your eyes for an entirely different reason now. You pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of his head as a warm rush of emotion filled you at hearing him finally say those three little words back to you.
“I love you, too, Matty,” you whispered. “And I don’t ever want to stop.”
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