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“I don't know if you could tell but my senses are overwhelmed by you.”
Multitasking was kind of Matt Murdock’s thing.
With his heightened senses, it was hard for it not to be, especially in a place that was as buzzing and alive as Hell’s Kitchen. He was being constantly bombarded the sounds of hurried footsteps on pavement, cars idling in traffic, and the occasional argument or passing words of people on the go, along with the smells of freshly tarred roads, cigarette smoke, engine exhaust, and the aromas that originated from various restaurants and food trucks that were dotted along the street.
It took a while, but he learned how to change them into background sensations that he could call upon if he focused on them enough, because otherwise he would have been driven out of his damn mind.
However, that didn’t seem to apply when it came to you.
He always couldn’t help but be finely tuned to everything about you. He could pick up on smells like your shampoo, laundry detergent, and favorite perfume from over a block away, and whenever he smelled them anywhere else, a feeling of familiar warmth bloomed in his chest. Your hands were always so soft when he held them in his, and he loved to feel your pulse beat steadily in the pads of your fingers, though just listening to its soft sound from across the room would be enough to calm his nerves.
After a night of an uneventful patrol, Matt crept back into his apartment through the roof door. He was immediately greeted by the sound of a slow, relaxed heartbeat coming from his bedroom, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Ever since he had given you a key to his apartment, he came home at night to you curled up in his bed more often than not. It was because you worried about him out there protecting the streets, and he appreciated the fact that you comforted yourself by waiting for him as opposed to trying to interfere with his nightly duties as the devil of Hell’s Kitchen.
He had all but his pants removed by the time he entered his bedroom, moving quietly past the bed and into the bathroom to clean himself up without disturbing you. He took a quick shower, keeping a steady ear on your breathing over the hiss of water to make sure that he didn’t rouse you. Luckily, you were a pretty heavy sleeper, and merely shifted when he slid into bed.
He slid an arm around your middle, goosebumps rising as he brushed against the warm skin on your hip where your shirt had ridden up. You sighed in your sleep, pressing back toward the solid weight of his body, and a happy feeling spread through his chest at how you automatically reacted to his touch, even while you were asleep.
He let his mind be completely in tune to you, in the way that he could hear your soft, relaxed breathing, smell the heavy scent of his soap lingering on your skin (he knows how much you find his scent comforting), and the feel the slow pound of your heartbeat where his hands rested on your bare skin. He pressed a small kiss to the back of your neck, tasting a faint bit of salt on his lips afterward, and let the tension from his body melt away.
As soon as he relaxed, however, you were rolling over onto your other side to face him. You had only barely registered his presence there, but his warmth was enough to bring you out of your slumber, albeit slightly. “Hey sleeping beauty.” Matt murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I tried to wait for you,” you said groggily. “M’sorry for falling asleep.”
Nearly every night you would try to stay awake long enough to see Matt return home from his nightly patrol as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but it was a very rare occasion that he actually ever found you awake upon his arrival. It still made his heart soar when he returned to find you curled up in his bed, and he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t make him happy when his sheets and pillows then smelled of you for days afterward.
“S’okay darling.” He hummed, letting his hand rest against the small of your back.
“I love you.” You sighed and nuzzled into him, settling back into sleep. Matt listened as your breathing soon evened out and your heart beat slowed before pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was conscious of so many things. He knew that you, with your featherlight touches, your contagious laughter, and your incredibly kind and compassionate heart, were too good for a guy like him. You deserved better than the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, instead someone who you know would return to you every night without a doubt. He was lucky to be in love with someone like you, that’s for sure.
He let himself drift off, completely tuned in to your sleeping form.
“I don’t know if you could tell, but my senses are overwhelmed by you.”