The Invisible String: Matt Murdock/ Daredevil

19

For a heartbeat, he was untethered. A void where his world had always been sound. Panic tightened his chest. What if it didn't come back? What if silence was permanent? He tugged against the restraints once, instinctive, his heart pounding hard.

And then—it rushed back.

The hum of the building. Karen's faint laughter. Annalise's quick inhale.

Matt let out a shaky laugh, relief spilling through him.

"I'm sorry!" Annalise blurted. "I didn't mean—"

He shook his head. "No. Don't apologize." His lips curved, slow and wry. "That was... unexpected."

Her face was guilt-ridden. "I shouldn't—"

"Annalise," he said firmly. "Do it again."

Her eyes widened. "You're serious?"

"Yes. Slower this time."

So she did.

The silence fell again, but this time he leaned into it. Felt it. The absence of noise was terrifying and liberating all at once. For those ten seconds, the world was gone—but Annalise remained, a steady presence anchoring him in the void.

When sound returned, he smiled up at her. "That's... incredible."

"You're not freaked out?" she asked hesitantly.

"Freaked out?" His smile deepened. "I've had people try to break me every way imaginable. You just proved you can put me back together again. That's not scary. That's extraordinary."

Her breath caught at his words. Slowly, she untied the knots holding his wrists. He shifted slightly sitting up further in the bed, leaning against the headrest with one knee elevated.

She let her hand hover above his chest — right over the fabric where his shirt hung loose across his sternum — something shifted. The line she traced seemed to spark, tugging at her senses like a thread being pulled taut.

Matt inhaled sharply, his chest rising hard beneath the cotton. It wasn't pain. It wasn't even relief. His breath came out slower, heavier, almost caught on the edge of something unexpected.

"What was that?" His voice was quieter now, but rougher, a rasp that betrayed more than the words did.

Annalise's brows drew together. "Did I hurt you?"

His head shook, jaw tight, lips parting like he had to force the words out. "No. It... it feels different. Not bad. Just... strange."

She hesitated, then brushed the same spot again, fingertips barely grazing the fabric.

This time, his reaction was clearer. His breathing picked up, just a notch, as though every inhale dragged a little deeper than it should. The muscles in his stomach tensed under the loose drape of his shirt, and his shoulders shifted restlessly against the mattress.

"Annalise—" His voice faltered, uncharacteristically unsteady. "That feels like—" He broke off, a half-laugh in his throat. "Like I shouldn't enjoy it as much as I do."

She tilted her head, curiosity and something warmer stirring in her chest. "Where?"

"Everywhere," he admitted with a shaky exhale, face flushing ever so slightly. "It starts here—" he shifted, indicating the center of his chest "—but then it's... running down my arms, low.. in my stomach." His lips pressed together for a beat before he added, quieter, "It's like you're... lighting me up."

Her fingers drifted upward, skimming the space just below his collarbone, brushing along another invisible thread. His body answered before his words did — his pulse jumped hard beneath the skin of his throat, and the tiniest shiver rippled across him as if his nerves had been tuned to an intimate frequency.