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matt murdock

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It doesn't take a genius - or a lawyer, even - to know that Valentine's Day isn't going as planned. Ellen spends the majority of the afternoon testing her limitations on the only audience she has at this point - Zeus, who doesn't seem fairly inclined to care whether she's telling the truth or not. In the end, it only makes her more frustrated and she stays silent for the remainder of her waking hours, pouring herself a glass of wine to enjoy on her front porch, alone.

She is grateful for the company of her dog, who can always sense when something is wrong and who always proceeds to drape himself over her lap as a result. She falls asleep on the couch with him on the floor beside her, one hand absently drifting into his fur.

When she wakes up, there's nothing more than a crick in her neck and a wet nose nudging at her arm to get her to rise, and she stretches in the rumpled clothes she's slept in as Zeus licks at her fingers. "Good boy," she murmurs, almost absently - and then her eyes snap open with the revelation that it's the first truth she's been able to utter since before yesterday. The morning hours pass in a whirlwind - she showers, dresses, and then leaves a whining Zeus indoors with a promise to let him outside later for play before taking off for Matt's at a near-run.

It's late enough, she thinks, that she won't be waking him up - he's an early morning riser - but she doesn't want to wait until he comes back to hers, tapping at his front door in a flurry of knocking before it opens and everything she's been dying to say falls from her lips in a rush.

"I'm sorry," she declares, still slightly winded, her hair damp and wavy from air-drying. "You're - you're not mediocre, you couldn't be farther from mediocre, and the other night was amazing, but really I haven't learned to expect any less from you, and I promise I know perfectly well what color the sky is, or that you're blind, or that your relationship with my dog is like walking on eggshells at best. I hate that the island managed to screw up everything up, but I'm so, so sorry, and I love you, and did I mention I was sorry?"

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It's a lot of information to wake up to, though I haven't been asleep for hours. I've only been home a handful of minutes, in fact, having just returned from meditation class (and God knows I needed it, after yesterday). I'm still dressed in sweats instead of my preferred suits, feet bare against the wood floor. I can only be that I didn't run into any showers on the way home.

After all, I'd hate to be soaked to the bone for an admission of love.

Time has no meaning here, days easily turning into months without remark. I don't know the day we could mark as an anniversary, when this arrangement morphed from something easy and casual to something... More. Ellen's one of the few people I have left to me, so many friends and acquaintances having disappeared within the last year. I hardly noted their vanishing; it seemed easier, somehow, to not acknowledge that they'd left. Denial's always fit me like glove. But if Ellen were to join them...

I don't know that denial would be an option. My heart seems to stop, suspended in my chest for a prolonged moment. I try not to think of Milla or Karen or Elektra or any of the other women who have told me the same only to regret their words. I try to focus on the sound of Ellen's voice, the faint floral smell hanging in the air. I try to think of something to say.

"...it came up," I murmur, stepping back to let her inside. "--Good morning."

"Okay," Ellen replies, after a long sigh pushed out in an exhale of breath, and she reaches up to brush some unruly pieces of half-damp hair away as they stick to her face, her cheeks flushed with mild exertion. She hasn't broken out into an unattractive sweat either, which is also fortunate.

It's less easy to backtrack over her words when he's standing there, looking like that, his gaze lingering in her general vicinity as he just listens to everything she has to say. It's not until he steps out of the way, until she moves to cross the threshold, that the impact of those last few syllables hits her and her heart starts pounding for a different reason than the fact that she's just gone for an impromptu jog.

Her smile fades slightly, and she glances back over one shoulder quickly, trying to gauge his reaction - but she knows he plays a lot of emotions closer to the vest, and so maybe it's better just to downplay everything she's uttered, move past it and continue on with her original plan to make it up to him.

"Hi," she finally replies, softly chuckling at herself, her shoulders releasing a little of the tension accumulated during her time of confession.

"I was wondering when you were going to get around to that," I say dryly, closing the door behind her once she's inside. A smile twitches over my lips almost in spite of myself, my mind still working to play catchup with my heart. It's been a long time since I was loved, and I don't know the first place to start.

I reach out for her. "You--?"

"That's probably what I should've started with, come to think of it," Ellen answers, smoothing her hands down over the front of her shorts as she watches him, smiling faintly.

She steps in closer when he reaches out, letting his fingertips find her side.

"I - what?" she asks, even as she smiles through the words, speaking too knowingly to be able to play it off as naivety later on.

"Love me," I say, fighting off surprise. I'm smooth. I would go so far as to say I'm suave. I'm good with words. Just... Not at the moment, evidently. I could blush.

"...and don't think I'm mediocre in bed, that's-- I'm glad for the confirmation on that one."

"You know I couldn't have actually thought that about you, right?" she murmurs, chuckling quietly.

Ellen glances down at her hands, her feet, the floor. When she looks up again, her eyes are steady.

"Well - yes."

"I--"

I let out a breath, a smile ghosting over my mouth. It's a strange feeling, especially in a place that's designed to be so temporary. Pulling Ellen closer, I drop a kiss into her hair. Against her temple, I murmur, "Love you, too."

She presses into him, turning her cheek against his chest, the stresses of the day leaving her in a soft exhale of breath, and her arms wind around his middle to keep herself close.

"Very decidedly not mediocre," she promises, tilting her head back to eye him with a smile.

A laugh slips past my lips. Lifting a hand, I smooth it over her hair, still-damp strands sticking to my skin.

"You rushed over here just to soothe my ego?" I tease, maybe relieved to hear it all the same. I might not always be a great boyfriend, but I had put some stock into my ability to be a good lover.

"I wanted you to know - I wanted you to be absolutely sure - " Ellen starts, tipping her chin up just enough to let her lips brush underneath his jaw, a soft heated kiss against the column of his throat, while her arms wind snugly around his waist.

" - of my feelings on the subject."

Edited 2013-02-21 18:07 (UTC)

I hum a low note, letting my head fall back under her care, encouraging her to keep going. Mediocre hardly describes our love life. Ellen has always been exquisite in this department.

"I think I could use more clarification," I murmur.

She can hear the sound of his enjoyment when it happens, the reverberation deep within his chest as she presses herself close to him, knowing he'll be able to smell the scent of her shampoo in her still-drying hair.

In response, she only dips her head a little more, her lips moving slowly over his clavicle, his chest, hands smoothing down a little lower over his hips as she hooks her thumbs beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

My skin flushes warm, muscles tightening in anticipation as her hands wander lower. I suck in a shallow breath, lips parting around a satisfied sigh. The thought occurs to me that we should relocate to somewhere more comfortable than the entrance to my home, but for the moment I can't be bothered to voice the suggestion, my hips tilting up into her touch.

"You did say you wanted more clarification," she murmurs, the words half-muffled against his skin when she speaks, her thumbs circling at his hips to trace the prominent lines between muscle and bone.

There are many, many things she appreciates about him, and she's planning on giving each of them equal attention - but first, a slow grin curves her lips and she slips a hand into his, tugging him in the direction of the bedroom.

Whatever plans I had for the rest of the day are shot by the time we're done, my body feeling warm and heavy and sated, the tension I've been carrying since yesterday morning little more than a distant memory. All I want to do is sleep, my eyes drooping heavy as I nestle in closer, a hand seeking out Ellen to hold her against me, pulse still fluttering as my stomach does a pleasant sort of flip. I grin into her hair, the weight of our earlier confessions hitting me again, and now that the moment's come and past, I wonder why I held off for so long. It's almost freeing.

"Mm."

"Mm is right," she agrees, a soft sound escaping as she momentarily lingers to catch her breath. She curls in close against him when he reaches out to her, though, eyes already half-lidded as she brings herself in to pillow her cheek on his shoulder, one arm splayed limply across his abdomen. Her fingertips absently trace the shape of his ribs and she nuzzles into his skin, breathing in the scent of him.

"Are you alive?" She knows he'll be able to feel her smile as it happens, the slight pull of her lips as she presses them to his neck.

"Barely," I admit with a huff, stretching my neck to give her more space in silent encouragement. Even here I'm not the type to laze around in bed all day, but I'll admit the thought carries more and more appeal the longer we do just that.

"Talk about a helluva way to go."

"I know the feeling," she confesses, her lips brushing over the line of his throat with every other syllable. It doesn't matter how many times they do this; she'll never quite get used to the way these feelings suffuse her limbs afterward, complete warmth. Recent memory of the last hour draws a contented sigh from her and her arm slides a little higher along his front, hand resting against his other shoulder.

"And I think I managed to explain myself pretty clearly."

"Among other things," I chuckle, head tipping back onto the pillow. Even at this hour it's too hot to bother pulling up the sheets, so I don't bother, forgoing any attempts at modesty. The light breeze slipping through the slatted windows is too enticing to give up and we've already shared a greater intimacy than nudity.

"I love you," I say for the second time today, voice barely above a whisper. The words sit funny on my tongue, too long unspoken, but practice will make it more comfortable again.

She closes her eyes, struck even more by the stark contrast between her life here and the way her life had been before this place. She never would have left the windows open, too concerned about nosy neighbors or wanting to stifle the sounds of the city to help her fall asleep. She would have felt sticky humidity wafting in thick and choking, not the scent of ocean on the breeze gently cooling her skin.

In a word, it's perfect.

"I love you," she replies, her voice equally soft as she punctuates the sentiment with another kiss, this one to the cleft in his chin.

"Think we'll be missed if we just stay here the rest of the day?"

I know the answer, at least where I'm concerned. Too many people have disappeared; my social circle's dwindled down to acquaintances from home and Natalya. The person who'd miss me most is right here in my arms, a notion that's either unspeakably romantic or sad beyond words. I choose to dwell on the former.

"Well, I can think of at least one individual that might be begging me to let him out eventually," Ellen admits, after a beat of thought.

Zeus is pretty self-sufficient at this point, and she knows she can trust him alone in the hut without running the risk of losing any important furniture since he's no longer teething, but she really doesn't want to test the strength of his bladder.

"But we can while away the day a little longer," she says, nuzzling Matt's jaw.

"You should invest in a doggy door and a fenced yard," I tell her, tipping my head back just enough to get comfortable.

"Some sort of automated feeding device..."

"Are you trying to find ways to make my dog more self-sufficient, or are you just saying this because you want to spend a lazy afternoon in bed?" Ellen asks, even though she's half-certain she already knows the answer.

She's making no move to get up, though, her fingertips dancing along his ribs again.

"Leading the witness," I say, cracking another smile. They come so easily around her. "I object."

"Sustained," Ellen murmurs, shaking her head slowly.

She'll give him that. She's going to feel bad enough eventually about leaving him to occupy himself for the better part of the afternoon, but not right now. Not while she's still lazy, sticky, limbs drugged with endorphins.

"We should shower," I say after another lazy moment, tucking my nose into her hair. Moving still holds little appeal -- sleep sounds nicer -- but if another activity is going to be on the menu, at least showering's another one made better with two.

"Eventually. I'm not in a rush."

"We. So you're going to make some room for me?" she murmurs, and despite her current laziness there's something about the concept of envisioning him in said shower that's enough to make her stir against him in a slow shift of her skin over his.

"I might have difficulty focusing on the getting clean part."

"I'll wash your back if you'll wash mine," I reply, and in a fit of energy I flip us, balancing my weight on my elbows as I lower myself over her. I sneak a kiss under her jaw, nipping a little at her ear.

"Deal?"

She's too lazy to do any more but yield as he maneuvers them, though a gasp of surprise escapes her just the same and a grin spreads on her lips as she tips her head back.

"You'll have to get up first before that happens," she points out, reaching up to comb fingers through hair mussed from sleep and - other activities.

"True."

I nuzzle at her neck, lips brushing over her pulse. She smells incredible, her skin like silk.

"Might be worth the sacrifice."

She groans, though it's half-hearted, and pushes at him weakly in an attempt to slide out from underneath him. Her arms are limp and useless and she inevitably flops back down against the pillows with a soft chuckle.

"Still your move, counselor."

It's all the convincing I need to stay right where we are, at least for a few more minutes, carefully sinking down back next to her so she doesn't have to bear my weight. I feel my eyes flutter shut as another easy smile threatens the corners of my mouth.

"Mm. Later."

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