( she's resting, and he should leave her to it. suffering a slice from a katana is bad enough, having Stick pour toilet bowl cleaner in the wound couldn't have improved the pain. she needs to sleep, because she needs to get through this, because he needs her to get better. he didn't realize how much he needed it until he was quite literally blind to anything that wasn't her — grimacing in pain with every short stop or bump in the unmaintained roads of Hell's Kitchen, or her hand tightened around his arm. he's never liked the feeling of genuinely being blind, blinded by fear was really no better.
Matt can't quite let her be, though, not after he came home to find the crotchety old man had absconded. he's not sure what that means, yet he suspects it's because of something Elektra said to him. a part of him had expected, when he found the apartment so still, that both had abandoned him. they'd both done it before, after all... and apparently, done it together. instead, he could hear her soft breathing, a hint she was asleep, even if Stick was long gone, and like a moth to the flame he can't not head to where she's sleeping.
he doesn't mean to wake her, as he reaches out to skim a few fingers along her cheekbone. the silk of her hair is just the texture he remembered, from so long ago. or perhaps not that long ago, considering he'd pulled his hands through it in their fakeout to impress the Yakuza. he'd always had a quiet obsession with how her hair felt against the callous of his skin. how he feels about Elektra is and will always be complicated, and yet there's no way to hide the relief he feels to see her still here, still with him, after everything. )
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Date: 2017-08-09 05:51 am (UTC)Matt can't quite let her be, though, not after he came home to find the crotchety old man had absconded. he's not sure what that means, yet he suspects it's because of something Elektra said to him. a part of him had expected, when he found the apartment so still, that both had abandoned him. they'd both done it before, after all... and apparently, done it together. instead, he could hear her soft breathing, a hint she was asleep, even if Stick was long gone, and like a moth to the flame he can't not head to where she's sleeping.
he doesn't mean to wake her, as he reaches out to skim a few fingers along her cheekbone. the silk of her hair is just the texture he remembered, from so long ago. or perhaps not that long ago, considering he'd pulled his hands through it in their fakeout to impress the Yakuza. he'd always had a quiet obsession with how her hair felt against the callous of his skin. how he feels about Elektra is and will always be complicated, and yet there's no way to hide the relief he feels to see her still here, still with him, after everything. )