The rain has dissipated. It's light now, airy and shy. It's only indication is the mist it leaves on your hair and eyelashes. You don't care that it's cold, you can feel his familiar eyes on you despite the silence of the rooftop.
"I know you're there," you whisper, turning your head to the dark shadow by the wall, "I was counting on it actually."
He steps from the darkness, clad in renewed red. Daredevil. "You wanted to see me?"
"No," you mumble, staring up at the horns adorning his helmet, "Not you. Matthew."
"I'm here," he sighs, hands reaching up to remove the mask that covers his face. He sets it on the cement edge lining the distant lights of Hells Kitchen.
"Are you okay?" You ask, gesturing to his side where the large cut once threatened him, "How are you holding up?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. I'm fine," he confirms, taking a few hesitant steps towards you, "it's all thanks to you." You just grimace, pushing the memories from your head. He was so close to dying and it scared you to your core. It made your soul rattle with fear. "Are you?" He asks, upon hearing your heart quicken, "I've tried to call."
"Yeah," you suck in a deep breath, slumping to the corner of the roofs ledge and sitting down, "I didn't feel like talking."
Matthew nods, sitting down beside you. He sets his helmet beside him, resting it on the cement ledge quietly. "I can go," he assures you, though his voice is less confident than he intended, "I just wanted to see you were safe, that's all."
"Do you do that often?" You tilt your head at him, narrowing your eyes, "Check up on me?"
"Yes," he admits, "if you feel safe, I can leave-"
"No," you look up at him, almost aching at the soft sadness held within his eyes. There's an understanding yet upset smile on his lips. "Can you tell me everything?" You wonder, your eyes flicking to his lips, "please?"
His face shines under the dim streetlights from below, casting him in a halo of gold. "Yeah," his eyebrows are upturned and he tries his best to give you a comforting smile, "I can do that."
His voice is barely above a whisper, raspy and soft as he recounts it all. The accident when he was nine. Learning to fight with a man named Stick, who was also blind. His beginnings. Fighting alongside others with super abilities. Finding love and losing it. Finding friendship and losing it too. You sit side by side, talking.
"Why did you become a lawyer?" You wonder, examining the fine details on his suit.
"The same reason I became Daredevil; to help people," he answers honestly, "is it fair for me to ask you a question now?"
"Yeah."
"Why are we here, talking? What changed?"
"Nothing changed," you admit to him, shaking your head gently, "I..."
"What is it?" He wonders, wishing he could inch himself closer to you.
"I just - I couldn't stop thinking about what you said; that I started to... to love you," you screw your eyes shut, tearing your gaze away from him and down to your hands, "And I..."
"I never should have used that against you," he whispers gently, "it wasn't right."
Turning to him again, you clench your jaw, "But I do love you, you were right." Despite knowing, Matthews heart can't handle hearing you say it. The words make his chest brighten with light and he feels his breath falter for a moment. Matthew bites the inside of his lip, at the corner of his mouth, and his lips press together. He wants to say it. God, he wants to say it. Please. You swallow the lump in your throat, eyebrows furrowing as you hold back tears of exhaustion, "Nothing changed because... I l never - I didn't stop loving you after knowing the truth. I don't think that I... I don't think that I can. When you love someone, you love all of them."
His lips part for a moment and you turn away, facing the city below, "All of me?"
"Yeah. Every part of you," you tell him assuredly, before your voice breaks, "but I really hate that you lied." You stare down at your feet now, hanging over the edge, precarious and unsupported, "It just... it feels like I never knew who you really were. Like this whole part of you was just missing, like there was something I couldn't put my finger on. I just... I- You believe in justice and our system - you're a lawyer - but this city is... it's outside the law. It's underneath it and above it at the same time and I can't stand it anymore. I don't know. M-Maybe it's not you. Maybe it's the fact that I don't understand why you have to nearly die to save a city that's meant to be protected by law. Or by God. Or by each other!"
"I understand," Matt nods, facing the sounds of the city, "I still shouldn't have-" Matthew grimaces, letting out a deep breath, "I'm sorry, swe- I... I'm sorry; for keeping things from you, for lying, for... all of it. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. And I never wanted you to be the one to see me like you did the other night. I could hear your heartbeat, it must have been so terrifying. I never wanted that for you. I'm so sorry. You did so well but you never should have been put in that position. I-I was meant to be done with Daredevil, he was meant to be gone."
"Why isn't he?"
"People need him," he answers, facing you, "you needed him too."
"I don't like living in a world where good people have to get their hands dirty," you run a hand over your face, squeezing your eyes shut, "You're - Matt, you're so good. Purely good."
"No," he mumbles quickly, "I'm not so sure about that. I'm... I try to help people," he begins, "but being Daredevil, it's - it's more than that sometimes. It is taking justice into my own hands. It's violence and it's dirty. It isn't always good and it isn't always pure."
"You never kill anyone," you remind him, recalling the facts you know about the vigilante, "You've never gone that far."
"I still get my hands dirty for this city. And I've... I've wanted to," Matthew says, swallowing the lump in his throat, terrified at his own admission to you, "God, I-I've gotten so close before. Sometimes I think..."
Placing a hand on his knee, you catch the way his eyebrows furrowed at the touch. "It's okay. You can tell me anything. I love you."
He leans into your touch, "Sometimes I think I really am the Devil," he turns to you, settled by the steady beat of your heart.
"Matt-"
"Sometimes I'm convinced that faith is j-just some... some big delusion that I fantasise about so I don't think that I'm damned. I... I wanted to kill him, Y/N. I wanted to kill Deacon. I got so close, I thought about it. I kept thinking about it with every punch that I threw. I was so angry... For everything; for him using faith against my city, for threatening your life, for speaking, for breathing - all of it," he lets out a huff, hands tensing wt his sides, "Y/N... I'm not good, I never have been. It's why I pushed Foggy and Karen away, it's why I'm alone." Frowning at him, you lurch forward and press your hands against his cheeks. Matthews eyes shut, and he lets out a shuddering breath, "God. I miss you."
Your eyebrows tilt up and you feel a fresh set of tears about to break forth. Something about him is so comforting, being back beside him feels safe. "Matthew, you aren't alone," you whisper to him, seeing a look cross his face.
"I should be."
You frown at him, swallowing the lump in your throat as you lean forward towards him, "Don't say that. That isn't true."
"You know when you found out about me, I was relieved," he admits, pulling away from your touch and rising to his feet.
"What?" You suddenly feel cold without him.
"I thought you'd keep ignoring me. Cut me out of your life," he tells you, hearing as you stand to follow him to the edge of the roof.
"Is that..." you whimper, preparing yourself for his answer, "Is that what you want?"
"A part of me, yeah," Matthew admits to you, turning and facing you, "I felt... relieved - not because I'd be away from you - but because I deserve it. Because you'd be away from me. And you'd be safer."
"I'm safe with you."
"No, you're not," he answers back just as quickly as you did.
Taking a step towards him, you press your hands against his chest, "I feel safe."
Tilting down at you, Matthew tries to silence the pulsing energy in his arms. He wants to touch you back. "You shouldn't."
"You're carrying a heavy cross for an entire city, Matthew," you suck in a breath, turning back to face the darkening sky and the little lights that begin to appear, "you don't deserve to be alone. You aren't a villain."
"But what if I'm not the good guy?"
"Who says you have to be?" You ask. Matthew points a finger to the sky, now littered with shining little dots, and you know what he means. God. God tells him. "You're already heavenly in my eyes. If there's room for anyone up there, trust me, it's you."
"I don't know how you can be so sure."
Drifting your hands up to his neck, you stare into his glazed eyes. Matthew finally touches you, his hands resting upon your lower back. He hears you let out a sigh of relief upon being close to him after so long.
"Matty," you hum in peace, gazing up at him. Your voice comes out in a quiet whisper, breathy and airy as you watch him. "You have to believe me when I tell you these things," you admit to him, serious as ever, "I'm telling you the truth."
He can feel your sweet breath on his lips and he grips your hips tighter, "Sweetheart, I'm... n-"
"Stop, stop," you whimper honestly, sinking into his touch, "please."
"'M sorry," he mumbles, leaning his head against yours, "I'm sorry, my baby."
You shut your eyes for a moment, your hand rising to rifle through his short hair at the base of his neck. "Don't risk everything for me and then tell me you're damned," you inch towards him, your voice lowering as his lips part, "you're good, Matty. You're so good."
You press your lips against his, closing your eyes when you feel him take a larger step towards you. His body presses against yours, his hands still holding you. Matthews nose brushes against yours gently before he pulls away. Looking up at him, you see his lips tremble slightly and his eyes are still shut gently.
"I love you," you remind him tenderly, before you kiss him again, "all of you."
He responds more passionately this time, his hands cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. Your hands fall to his chest and you press your tongue against his bottom lip, craving to feel closer to him in any way that you can. Matthew lets out a small sound before he pulls back, breathless. He tenses.
"What is it?" You whimper up at him. His thumb brushes your cheek.
"It's about to rain again," he advises you, a small grin on his mouth.
"I don't care," you answer, leaning back in when you see his smile grow.