Blurry Vision ∷ Daredevil; Matthew Murdock

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Place any questions for the Q&A here :

Also, I'm just going to casually move to sound proof room to block out all the screams that I might cause in this chapter lol.

Chapter 49

"Did you find anything yet?" Matt asks me softly and I let out an annoyed sigh.

"For the third time this hour, no, not yet," I mutter, scanning the screen in front of me as he listens to my audio player read out the police scanners, "Did you hear anything?"

"Nothing regarding this, no."

I close the uninteresting article and quickly pull up another wiki page regarding Savior and Fabian. It's not that I don't know how to find them or what to do, but my name isn't exactly on the low at the moment so I'd like to keep off the streets for now. I could easily sweep the streets for their names and locations, as could the blind Devil next to me, but right now, with Frank Castle and everyone else on the streets, I can't risk putting anyone else in danger.

The Queen's kid is already walking a thin line, I'm not sure how many more strings we can cut before we all fall.

"What are you going to do if you find him?" Matthew speaks up, and I draw my eyes from the screen to look over at the figure sitting next to me.

"Shoot him." I answer bluntly, easily going back to my task at hand.

"You could do that? Shoot your own father?"

I place the laptop onto the coffee table and push myself up so I'm standing, "He's barely a father."

"He's your dad, Ember–"

"He was my dad for ten years, then he turned into a drug addicted, abusive asshole!" I shout then quickly quiet myself, clenching my fists and letting out a shaky breath. Breathe. "If he's on the street selling drugs, it's my job to kill him."

"He's your family. It's not as easy as you think it is." Matt says, standing up and towering over me, but that doesn't change my immediate anger.

"I crushed my uncle's nose all the way into his brain, it really isn't that hard, Matthew." I manage to say this more calmly but the angry tremble in my voice never fades away.

"He threatened you–"

"And Fabian didn't?" I snap, my glare intending as I stare up at him. He mimics my look and lets out a sigh.

"That's not what I meant, Fabian hasn't done anything to harm you recently, he doesn't deserve to die, just go to prison for the rest of his life."

I am struck speechless by him, literally speechless. How could he fucking say that? Nothing to me RECENTLY? How about popping up after fifteen years? How about making it so whenever I look at myself in the mirror I just am reminded of my mother's death because he used to try and kill me for looking like her? How about forcing me into this shitty life? How about making so I can never live a normal life by being the kin of a drug lord?

I grab his wrist and place it on my arm, "Can you feel that? Those are what he's done to me. These are what he's doing to me." The anger is clearly in my words, just not in my tone. Hot tears burn down my face, uncovering my facade. I can barely hold myself up, but I managed because I don't feel like falling in front of him again, I don't want to show any more weakness then I already have.

Matt pauses with his warm hand placed on my arm, obviously feeling the rough scar tissue from the cigarette burns, "But you heal?"

"I scar. I never heal all the way. I'm left with constant reminders of his torture." I breathe out, a constant shakiness to my tone. I manage to calm my anger down, but the tears don't seem to stop running down anytime soon. He runs his fingers across the scars, gently grazing over each one.

"These are all... from him?"

I grab his other hand and place it directly above my eye but underneath the brow bone, a thin scar is across it that runs all the way across to the top of my ear where I'm missing a small bit at the outside, "He threw me down and I landed in a pile of broken bottles."

His hand that was running across the scars on my arm pauses when he reaches my wrist, but runs his thumb over my calloused knuckles, "But you survived."

His warm breath sends a chill down my spine and my eyes train on his lips, they are slightly parted and his head is tilted down towards me, clearly concentrating on what he's doing.

"Barely." I mumble reaching my hand up to move his off my face, but his touch lingers there for a few moments. My hand stays gently wrapped around his wrist and we stare at each other for a few moments; the entire world around us seeming to slow down for each other. His breathing changes like he's about to say something and his lips close then part open again.

Before either of us say anything, he wipes a stray tear off my cheek with his thumb and presses his lips softly against mine, I only hesitate for a moment but I find myself kissing him back and clutching onto his wrist more.

A warm sensation moves throughout my body as our lips move in sync to an unknown beat of our own, but the only beat I do know is my heart beat; which is racing a million miles a minute. He places the hand that was on my arm onto my waist, luring me closer to him.

His lips mixed with his warmth is more addicting then anything I've ever had, it's like a wave of peace, that I haven't had in a while, just washed over me. My senses are overloaded with a burning feeling, but a burning feeling that is good, that I want to feel more of. It's my body releasing endorphins, but I don't really care about the science right now, I just want more of it.

We finally part, taking some heavy breaths and Matt chuckles softly, "I think I prefer that over fighting."

My face is still extremely heated and all I want is to feel his lips against mine again but I smile along with him, "I still think I prefer the fighting, mister."

A sly smirk appears on his lips and he places both his hands down on my waist, inching me closer to his chest, "Oh do you?"

I push him backwards and he falls onto the couch with me close behind him, laughing softly at how his glasses managed to become crooked in the fall. He grabs me and tugs me on top of him so I'm straddled across his lap, my arms resting behind his neck, "You do owe me a boxing match, mister."

He cups my cheek and pulls us closer together, "I think that can wait an hour or two, don't you?"

I feel the warmth radiating off of him similarly to the chill of my own skin, "Maybe..." My lips connect us this time and this kiss has a quicker tempo then the last ones, and it's definitely more passionate. As the burning feeling returns to my chest I run my fingers through his hair, tugging softly at the strands.

Similarly, I feel his warm fingers slip underneath my shirt just above my waistline and start slowly inching up but then moving back down, sending so many different signals throughout my body.

The kiss itself is the most amazing thing I've felt in awhile, the way our body's move in sync is a definite turn on; but how he can figure out all the small things to do to enhance it just makes me get more and more addicted to it. I pull away to take a breath and he pauses to pull his glasses away, revealing his dark and breathtaking eyes.

He moves his hand back to my face, running his thumb around my cheek and down to trace my swollen lips, all while a small smile never leaves his face, "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

My eyes immediately start to sting as I feel myself get drawn to the brink of tears for maybe the third time today, but I don't care. I wrap my arms tightly around him and embrace his gentle spirit. He doesn't hesitate to hug me back and he rubs small circles into the small of my back, mumbling the same line over and over. I won't let anyone hurt you. Never again. You'll be safe now. No one will ever hurt you again.

And as I bury my head into his shoulder, the subtle hint of his cologne filling my senses, I really believed him.

For once in my life I listened.