fightlikehell | call in sick

A sea of love from her beloved will keep her buoyant through any storm. The best thing about it is that he's the sea and the port.

The accent is pretty horrible, but also adorable, and definitely making her giggle. "Yeah? And I what?" Ver would give him a look if they both weren't unable to appreciate it (or manage it) at the moment. Having him laugh after he was in such distress is a precious thing.

"I know." Intellectually, she knows. But he can hear the fear in her voice. Magic, for all she's been studying it and surrounded by it, still scares her on a primal level. She'd love to curl up in his lap and bury her face in his shoulder, but... tea kettle. "Can we put this on hold while I finish making the tea and toast?"

Surrounded and protected, that's exactly how he'd hope it would be. Smooth sailing as much as he can control it.

He doesn't think it's nearly as horrible judging by her laughter. "And you, well, ain't gonna have nothing to say. Not with your diamonds, pearls and all them unmarked bills. Anybody that don't like it will be sleepin' with the fishes." Okay so he hasn't seen a good mobster movie in awhile. They've lost their charm when you live it a time or two. He still laughs and settles.

The bubbling, brewing noise of water is cut with the shrill sound of the kettle. Matt knew it would happen but startles. Only just a little. Verity is beautifully distracting. And his sense of smell and sensation have made hearing take a back seat. "Yeah, of course we can put it on hold." His arms give one last squeeze before starting to pull back. He can change in the mean time.

Stormy weather never bothers her when she's with him.

If getting her to laugh was the aim, then it was wonderful and he should be very proud of himself. "Wow, I went from being your victim to your moll pretty quick. Tell me more about the diamonds and the pearls. You know how terribly materialistic I am." She'll punctuate the teasing with a kiss on his nose.

Ver pets his shoulders soothingly when he startles. "I'll be quick," she promises. And of course, she will be. Tea can't really be rushed, but she can be efficient about it. Mint and ginger steep, toast is slathered with peanut butter, a tray is prepared. "You want some banana on your toast too?" She strains the tea before pouring it into their mugs. Mushy ginger root isn't tasty.

Rain means there's something to sing and dance in. And sunshine to keep them warm.

It is. Being worried and laughing is a feat that few can do. Even if she is still concerned, he has improved her mood in the very least. "The narrative is always about taking suspenseful turns." He thinks about how Verity has all the best traits of Tess Trueheart and Breathless Mahoney. "Nothin' but the finest." Maybe it's apparent but he's running out of lines.

"I'll be here," at least changed into some sleep pants. That he is slow on. Standing gets a head rush. Not as bad as it had been before. Smelling the toast has made his stomach feel like an empty, desolate wasteland. "Please, a banana would be great."

Dancing and singing? He does know the way to her heart.

Nervous laughter isn't usually one of her tells. She's still worried, yes, but she's starting to feel better. Being able to be close to him and see his mood improving helps; hers helping his in turn makes it nicely cyclical. "I've got you, baby, so 'course I've got the best."

Peanut butter banana toast and ginger-mint tea, coming right up. And she's stealing a few peeks while he's changing. It's such a lovely show. If he needs help she's quick to come over; he can lean on her or let her fuss with things while he focuses on standing. However it happens, he'll be comfy in the end, and that's the goal. Once he's sitting again she'll give him his tea and toast with a kiss. "Here you go."

Matt Murdock is a 'whatever it takes' fellow. If he is compelled to sing and dance, he simply must.

Once they're together, home and comfortable he is usually on the mend. Even with his very odd ailment. He'd have to be on his deathbed or very under the weather to not be more active and responsive to her. "I knew you'd see it my way." Though it sounds like they're talking about more than precious gems.

His stomach growls. Maybe she can hear it. Every time he feels like she can, this time he's sure of it. It also makes his undressing much slower with that dizziness. Her support is very, very helpful. She gets her own murmured thanks, pets and kisses. "Thank you, sweetheart. I'd be really in trouble with out you." Trying to get Foggy to Nexus intentionally and to get him to safety. Foggy is a dear friend who he loves so very much. His brand of care just can't compare to Verity's. Now seated and smelling the hot tea and feeling the vapor in his face it's settling. The record plays on, the tunes playful and clever.

Thank God for Verity Willis. Matt blinks and finds his eyes are going to water over again. What.

And thank the gods for that. His willingness to do these things encourages her to actually do these things, instead of only thinking about them. He makes her brave enough to let the world see her.

"Always do." Except when he's coming around to her way of thinking, but then they're on the same page in the end and does it really matter who started there?

She can hear a bit of borborygmus, yeah, which makes her giggle and lean down to kiss his stomach. "Shhh, patience, it'll just be a minute more." After straightening up again she sits beside him and leans her head on his shoulder. "Yeah, you would. Must be why you found me," she teases. Foggy's a darling, but Ver suspects her brand of TLC is a better fit. At least, in this case. There's a woman out there just waiting for a love like Foggy's.

"This is nice," she sighs. "Not that you feel bad. That we get to sit together like this. Being with you." He knows what she means. "I love you."

This only means that there has always been brilliant qualities in her. Matt's patience and care ends up for her benefit and, if it's lucky, the world. She really is something. All the tender touches heal wounds and fill spaces.

He rubs his eye with the heel of his hand and settles into the couch, settles more against her. All of the highs and lows of sensation up inside of him are normal. Coming to tears because his sweet girlfriend brings him tea and toast though? Matt snickers at himself.

Foggy Nelson is going to find a woman and she will be very, very satisfied. And Matt knows that any care on him would be increased, adapted. Foggy is thoughtful and he knows that his best friend is a picky, fussy and stubborn son of a gun that really is beyond his comprehension now and then.

"I was thinking the same," their schedule hasn't allowed for that much stillness. He sniffs and turns to kiss her face while he won't have to worry about smeared peanut butter.

Perhaps they were always there, waiting to be discovered, but she still credits him with their existence. The possibility of becoming something more doesn't matter if it never happens.

Ver is happy to be his pillow if that's what he wants. If he wants to be held while he eats, she can do that too. She'll pet his hair and kiss his forehead while he relaxes and count herself lucky for the opportunity. Cold tea and toast are no concern at all.

Kisses are happily returned, but afterward, she nudges his glasses down to get a look at his eyes. Is... oh gods, he's crying. That ain't good. "Honey, what is it? Does something hurt?"

No perhaps, that's his opinion. He can't possibly put in qualities in her that weren't already there. As smart and adaptive as Verity is, she couldn't possibly just become so lionhearted. Though she is always full of surprises. Wonderful surprises.

Or he could just feed her in exchange for all of the contact. It's only fair. A sip of tea from him, a sip of tea from here. They'll work it out. They always do.

Brown, light focused eyes blink. "I'm just--" he exhales and it's kind of a laugh as a tear slips down his nose. That's the opposite of what it was supposed to do dammit. "I'm not hurt. I'm dizzy and achy but you just make me so happy, Verity. Do you know that?"

Surprises for both of them. Sometimes she wonders if he's been finding surprises in himself, too.

They do always work it out. She trusts him to feed her. Peanut butter can be cleaned up one way or another.

Ver wipes away the tear before it gets too far. "I've had a few hints," she answers with a laugh of her own. "Every now and then. You're real subtle about it, though, you know?" If they're happy tears, she'll pull off his glasses and kiss the tears away. The more there are, the more he gets kissed. The less there are, the sooner she'll move on to kissing his lips. Either way, he's a winner. "I love you."

Oh he is. Matt is finding he's far more capable of a continual, frank relationship with a person. It's always been about secrets and withholding, picking and choosing like it's a strategy. Too much affection and they'll get suspicious, pull away (Stick), too constant and he'll get used to it and feel hollow when it's over (Elektra)... There's no way she can be anyone but herself. And he can't pin every injury of the past to a person in the present.

Napkins are far away and so peanut butter is best devoured somehow.

The glasses off and his eyes move her way. "I'll try and be less subtle. I love you." Every press of her mouth right until his lips is a blessing. All the bubbling emotions are flowing up to the top and over rather than his usual, purposeful expression. They're happy tears alright. The salt flavors their kiss as he touches her chin and cheek. "I'm all over the place right now and that's okay because I'm with you."

That's a wonderful thing to learn. She's so blessed to be the one he's learning it with. His learning curve has been as hard as hers, and she wishes she'd realized it sooner. It just goes to show how good he is.

How, oh how, will they manage? They'll have to get inventive.

Verity kisses him again and again, just the way he does when she's sad and in need of the comfort of feeling loved. Salty kisses and all. It's not the first time. "Yeah. It's okay," she whispers. The changes in his expression are worrying her more than she wants to admit. She knows it'll wear off, or they can find a way to break the spell, but she hates to see him being put through this. "Everything's okay. I'm here and you're safe."

But then would there be that added pressure if she knew where he's been? Or maybe her gorgeous ability to try harder would be too much from the start? At any rate, things happen as they do in its time. Every lesson he learns with her makes him better for her. There has been no pain or risk in giving her everything of him because she's giving just as much. No relationship before had been this level, this delightful, normal of practically living together.

Too bad he's not victim to a spell that would end at a kiss. Their problem would have been long gone. Matt is living one kiss to the next. It will pair well with the drink and snack. The day is nearly done. Tomorrow he'll be himself....right?

"Okay," he whispers back. "Safe and sound. Home." And it means so very much. to him. to be at home. It's a place that is with her.

That's true, her sometimes all-consuming worry and guilt could have made it too hard for her to not get clingy before he was ready for that. Her desire to fix everything for the people she loves probably would have reared its ugly head and driven them apart.

Ah, a spell ended with True Love's Kiss would have been no trouble at all for them. Maybe next time they'll have that kind of good luck.

"Home," she agrees with a smile. A kiss can't be stolen between them, but she's going to be trying anyway. They might not be magic curse-breaking kisses, but she thinks they're pretty magical with him. "Drink your tea before it gets cold." It's a gentle reminder reinforced by her reaching for her own mug.

Clinging now is what he'd prefer, what he's loving. It means he can do the same. And there are still spaces in him being mended and illuminating through their journey together. Figures that he finds a healing soul. Verity also has an uncanny ability to take him down from whatever cross he is trying to climb up on.

True Love's 1000 kisses too. One of these days! Matt still won't give them up.

"Yes, love." And he is thirsty. The warm liquid on his tongue and down his throat is going to soothe even more. "I just wanted to be sure you knew. I'll also tell you the sky is blue." He smirks and takes another sip before moving onto the toast.

There are times to cling, and this is certainly one of them. He's welcome to cling to her whenever he feels like. She wouldn't consider herself the healing soul in the relationship, but if she's helping him, then all the better. Not letting him martyr himself may turn out to be her life's work, but she's glad to do it.

He'll get all the kisses forever. No need to worry about running out.

"Hmm. Thank you, honey." She nuzzles her nose into his hair for a minute before turning her attention to her own snack. The chance to sit and relax is something they both need today. There'll be plenty of other ways to spoil him later. A nice bubble bath, later, a massage... he's going to be the most spoiled victim of mischief ever.

He really could have waited. Her sleep is just as precarious as his own. Matt listened to her breathing as he slipped from their warm cocoon of bedding and pillows to go to the bathroom. He was back to the mattress again when it dawned on him that everything felt as it should be.

So.

"Verity." There's a gentle press to her arm and a nuzzle to her cheek until a kiss. "Verity."

Waiting wouldn't have helped so much. She started waking up when he got out of bed; the loss of his warmth and the shifting mattress are all it takes to rouse her just enough to monitor his comings and goings. It's not such a bad habit to develop, given how often he's injured or coming in late. The first time he says her name she groans softly. The touches get her to roll over, lips seeking his before she's fully awake. That's an instinct worth encouraging.

"Mm, morning. What's wrong, honey?"

He was hoping that she could be lulled. This time around he's grateful. Matt pulls a the blankets to lay beneath them and closet to her. Once she's facing him she gets her kiss.

"Well, right now nothing. It's gone. Whatever it was. But uh," he snickers and dips his head. "I had a thought."

Is he going to say it? He's going to have to say it out loud because she's not a mind reader.

"I was kind of pregnant."

Well she's sure awake now. Awake doesn't begin to describe it. She's just. Just staring. In shock and terror. He can't see that, but the way her heart is racing and the fact she's pretty much stopped breathing makes it pretty clear how she's reacting to that idea.

"You. No. What?"

This could have waited, he thinks again. Matt clears his throat and is not going to give into the laugh at himself, at her, at the situation.

"But it's okay. It's okay. I'm normal again." Her heartbeat and breathing pattern make him say it at least one more time. "The spell is gone." That is what it was right?

He licks his lips and gives her space, hopefully to breathe. "The soreness, dizziness, the mood swings... I mean, I wasn't actually." ...Hopefully...

She didn't need to know that part at all, really. Really, not at all. He might find it funny, but he's not the one who's spent half her life stifling maternal instincts she knows she can never, ever indulge.

When the shock starts to wear off and she can breathe again, the first thing she does is grab a pillow to throw at him. "Don't even joke about that. Just don't." They could have had such a nice day. But now she's getting mad. That was needlessly cruel, Matthew.

The funny is fleeting. Heat signatures in her face and pillow launched he could dodge it. Matt doesn't because he sees a mistake too late. He purses his lips and holds the fabric and fluff. "Sweetheart," if she'll allow him that one word endearment, "Verity." To be more serious now. That's what happens when you step into someone's issues.

He rubs his mouth, no longer smiling, and sets the pillow beside him. "I..I wasn't trying to make a statement. I'm sorry."

The anger will be fleeting too. Not so quick as his humor, but the endearment and the apology do help her start to calm down. She isn't quite ready to go back to cuddling, which is a shame, but there's no more attacks--and that's something.

"I know. I just." She sighs, pushing herself up and scooting toward him so she can take his hand. "It's hard to get serious about someone as Catholic as you and not think about what I can't have sometimes."

Congrats, Matt: you have now entered the Serious Conversation Zone.

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