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“Matt, for the last time, I am not taking your bed from you. You’re blind! That would make me, like, the worst person in the world!”
“I thought you didn’t care what people thought.” He smirked, continuing to throw blankets and pillows towards the couch.
“Call it a concern for my eternal soul, Murdock.”
“You’re worried about what God thinks?” He scoffed.
“There’s a lot of things I’ll have to answer for when I die, Devil Man, but making the blind man who’s harboring a mob target in his apartment sleep on his own couch won’t be one of them.”
Matt smiled, then shook his head. “I think He might let this one slide.”
He wasn’t budging, and you were beginning to grow tired of arguing with him about it.
“Fine, fine, whatever. Damn me to hell.” You rolled your eyes as he barked out a laugh.
The glow of the living room changed colors as the advertisement outside the window started over from the beginning. Red light coated the walls, spilling across the floor like paint. You watched it tiptoe up Matt’s shirtless torso, eyeing the scars littered across his back. You turned away before he could pick up on your increased heartrate.
Unlike the other person in the room with you, you weren’t blind. Matt was an extremely pretty man. But he knew he was pretty, and you were sure that every person who’d ever met him had told him so, even if it was just with their heartbeat.
Matt ran his fingers under the couch cushions, securing the sheet in place. He bid you goodnight, and you settled into the silk sheets on his enormous bed. Yes, you decided, I will definitely be purchasing silk sheets as soon as the Russians are dealt with.
The Russians had become a giant pain in your ass. They knew you were connected to the “man in black”, as they called him, and wanted to get their greasy hands on you to bait Matt into showing himself. Matt had insisted on you staying at his apartment, where he could keep an eye on you while he figured out how to deal with the Russians. You had accepted his offer, grateful that he was willing to harbor you, but you were already feeling stir-crazy, and it was only the first night here.
You rolled over, sinking into Matt’s pillow, letting the subtle scent of laundry detergent lull you to sleep.
//
Your name was being shouted. It echoed around your head, and you felt beads of sweat running down your neck. You were overwhelmingly hot, panting as you fought your way towards consciousness. Hands grasped your cheeks, and you lurched out of bed, throwing the covers off of your body and falling to the floor. Your knees harshly banged against the wood, shooting pain up your legs. Uneven breaths turned into gasps as you felt hands around your shoulders. You yelped, clawing at the floor to get away from whoever was grabbing you.
Your name rung through the air as hands touched your cheeks. Finally, you looked up, forcing whoever was there to kill you to look you in the eyes before doing it. Instantly, fear turned to regret. Your eyes met Matt’s, who was whispering your name under hushed breaths.
“Breathe.” His voice was stern, but worry was laced in his tone as he softly stroked your cheeks. He repeated your name again, “Breathe. Deeper. There you go. Can you focus on finding five things you can see right now?”
You lurched out of his hands, heart still pounding, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m sorry for waking you. I’m fine.” You hunched over, hanging your head between your knees as you tried to slow your breathing down.
“You’re not fine. Your heartbeat just skyrocketed out of nowhere. I thought someone was trying to kill you in here.” Matt followed you, crouching down in front of you.
He gently took your hand, placing it on his chest where you could feel the steady drum of his heartbeat. His hand covered yours, holding it in place. Your body started to to relax, his heartbeat grounding you. You raised your head, looking into Matt’s concerned face. That’s when you realized Matt was shirtless, and your hand was being pressed into his VeryNakedChest .
“What? What’s wrong?”
“What!” You yelped, pulling your hand away and shooting to your feet.
“Your heartbeat just picked back up again.” He said, confusion evident on his face.
You began to pace in front of him, ringing your hands together.
“Was it a nightmare?” He asked, creeping to his full height.
“Yes.” You answered bluntly, uninterested in continuing the conversation.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay. Okay, that’s fine,” he paused, still speaking in a hushed tone, “but you have to stop pacing. Your heartbeat is still elevated.”
You halted, staring at the bed that you’d fallen asleep in. The covers were splayed out, soaked in sweat. It looked like a tornado had slept in the bed, rather than a person. Turmoil rolled in your gut. Not only had you ruined Matt’s perfectly soft and well-made bed, but you’d also woken him up, probably giving him a heart attack in the process.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, running your hands over your face. You would not cry in front of him.
“Don’t apologize. Are you okay?” He met you where you stood in the bedroom, holding out his hands. A request, you supposed, to hold his hands until you were settled. You lightly set your hands on his, focusing on anything except the fact that his thumbs were now brushing over your knuckles.
“I’m-,” you breath shuddered as you spoke, “I think I’m okay, now.”
He brought a hand to your cheek, wiping the tears that had begun their descent. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. You barely remembered the nightmare, but it had to be a bad one, or else Matt would still be asleep in the living room.
“Do you get nightmares a lot?”
You furrowed your brow, trying to find any words that could explain your recurring dreams. More tears pricked at your eyes, willing themselves to fall.
“Sometimes, I guess. My childhood was...rough. I don’t remember much of it. I think there’s probably some trauma I need to deal with.” You choked out a laugh. There was definitely some trauma you needed to deal with, but you weren’t going to admit that to Matt tonight.
Matt slowly nodded, but you saw a streak of the devil in his eyes. He was going to ask questions, but not right now. Not tonight.
“Let’s try to go back to sleep, okay?” He tugged on your hands, leading you to the other side of the bed, where you hadn’t sweated through the sheets. Your hands grew clammy thinking about being left alone in the dark again. There was no way you’d fall back asleep tonight.
“Hey, don’t worry, okay?” Matt climbed onto the bed, resting his back against the headboard. “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep. No one can hurt you here. I promise. Come here.”
His tone was warm and inviting – lighthearted, even, like he didn’t want you to overthink the situation. His arms opened up, wrapping around you as you climbed into his lap. He had you cradled against his chest, resting his chin on your head. Your ear was directly next to his heart, something Matt probably orchestrated on purpose. He was giving you something to focus on so that you didn’t focus too hard on trying to fall asleep.
The last thing you remember is Matt’s lips brushing over your hair, kissing you so lightly you thought you might’ve imagined it.
//
Soft light filtered through the window. A morning haze coated the bedroom walls, condensation built up on the windows. The early morning sounds of New York buzzed in your ears. Taxi’s honking, bodegas opening their grates, life happening just beyond the glass.
Your eyes homed in on the mug of tea sitting on the bedside table, still steaming. You could vaguely hear Matt moving around in the kitchen. The scent of bacon wafted into your nose, sending your stomach grumbling. There was a noteworthy pause in the noise coming from outside the room. It returned soon after. Matt knew you were awake.
You carefully grabbed the tea, gravitating towards the smell of freshly cooked food. Matt was hunched over the stove, shirt thankfully on. You sat at the island, watching him gracefully move around. Even seeing, you were convinced you couldn’t move as gracefully as Matt did. He was constantly surprising you.
“Did you sleep alright? After the, uh, incident?” His voice echoed across the room.
“Yes, but I think you knew that.” You smiled, sipping your tea.
He set a plate of food in front of you and handed you a fork.
“You don’t have to talk about it to me, but I think you should talk about it to someone. Eventually.”
His face held a soft glow. He wasn’t being judgmental, and he didn’t seem to mind that you had woken him up in the middle of the night. You tilted your head, trying to think of the words you could say to express your gratitude, but your brain still felt foggy from sleep, so you just settled on, “Thank you, Matty,” and that was just fine with you. For now, at least.