[For the fifth time since she got changed for the fourth time, Claire feels stupid. She huffs a sigh looking at herself in the mirror one last time, before going back to the kitchen with a determined spring to her step, decided now not to switch clothes again. The dress will have to do.
She feels stupid for obvious reasons. He can't see her, not really, so why would he care that she put on her very favorite sundress for the evening, the one that gives her a proper waist and twirls so nicely? She can just put it down to the fact that the summer heatwave is not abating, and her apartment is way too hot, even with the AC blasting in the living-room. Also, technically, she's been very much less dressed around him, so why does it seem to be more important tonight?
It's fine. It doesn't matter. It's just - a date. With Matt.
Shaking her head, Claire stirs the bolognese sauce she's been working on, tastes the pasta - not quite on either, but soon dinner will be ready. And Matt's still not here, of course - if he actually comes up to the door, she'll be surprised.]
[ He's almost tempted to go in through her window, let's be honest. Claire knows who he is, he could show off and get to hear that skip in her heart when she worries about him. It would be the kind of assholeish thing he'd consider, maybe even do. But he won't.
Claire wants a date with Matt Murdock, not Daredevil. That she knows he's both makes things easier, but harder too. He's never been on a date with someone who knows before. Not since Elektra, and her idea of dates usually involved knives and blood and breaking everything good in him. Claire's not like that at all. It makes Matt a little scared, but he likes it. He likes her, a lot.
So he keeps the armor and the black pajamas in their case tonight and trades them off for a freshly pressed button-up (with just the right buttons undone, you know the ones) and some slacks that are a little nicer than what he'd wear to work. He does the best he can with his hair and slaps on some cologne that even he can barely smell, but it's there. He wants this to work, he wants to have a nice time and maybe not get blood on her couch for once. Unless she's into that?
Either way, Matt can smell her cooking dinner from three blocks away, hear her fussing in her room from two and practically 'see' her as he's down the street, focusing on her familiar heartbeat in the sea of sound that makes up New York City. He smiles the whole way up the stairs, cane tapping mostly unnecessarily, but he wants to give her at least some warning that he's almost here.
When he gets up to the door he doesn't even knock, this asshole. ]
[When she hears him through the door, she can't help her chuckle and the roll of her eyes. Of course he wouldn't knock.
Still, she walks over, barefoot on creaking floorboards, and throws the door open to him, eyes traveling over him. She raises an eyebrow with a smile as she leans against the door.]
What, no flowers?
[She makes way for him to step inside, tucking hair behind her ear.]
Food's almost ready. You don't need me to tell you where to sit, right?
[ Matt shrugs, though he'll definitely beat himself up internally for not being more romantic. Maybe he should've brought some wine. Shit. He is so bad at this normal dating thing.
Still he manages to make it through the door, following behind her. She sounds lovely, the soft sound of her dress and bare feet echoing along with the smell of her apartment and how comfortable she is in her space, just at home like this. He can tell the dress she's wearing is one of her favorites, it smells richly of her and sounds more worn than a new dress would. She must look beautiful. She certainly looks it to him.
He leaves his cane by the door and walks up to the table she's set up for them. ]
Nah, it's all good. You can open the wine if you want.
[She slides a bottle over to him, their fingers brushing over it. She stills for a second, before chuckling to herself.]
This shouldn't be awkward. Why is this awkward?
[They've seen each other at their worst. They've helped each other through their worst. Why now, now that they agreed on doing this, having a real date, why is it all so strange? Why is she so nervous?]
((248: A fast food restaurant. The exact details of the brand are missing, but it sells fairly standard fare: hamburgers, french fries, chicken nuggets, soda... Sadly, it seems like they don't have milkshakes or ice cream, but sometimes they have coffee!))
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[The restaurant is as dark as every other building Claire has ended up in since arriving in Norfinbury, but there's something warm about it - maybe the smells, faint but definitely there. The smell of greasy food, and the even fainter aroma of coffee.
She sighs, something like delight in the noise, and starts making her way through the restaurant. If she finds real coffee and it's not just a cruel Norfinbury trick...
She walks around for a while, just observing, taking in the place. It looks like a McDonalds, something reassuring in the standard plastic chairs and Formica tables. Still on a hunt for coffee, Claire looks around the kitchen. From here, she can't see the front door, but if House makes it here like he said he would, she's sure she'll hear him.
She sighs again, this time a little less content. This - this whole idea, of meeting up with House - feels like it could go so badly, but she's committed, now, and she'll see it through.
Who knows, maybe he'll even be nice.]
Ah-ah! Score!
[She's quick to pull out two mugs when she finds the coffee, smelling the pot for a moment with her eyes closed, a happy smile on her face.]
[Nice is a relative term for Gregory House. He makes no effort to hide his entrance as he opens the door to the fast food joint, stamps the snow off his boots, and steps inside. He takes a deep breath, draws in the scent of America in all its glory.]
If that's real coffee I smell, chain me to the freaking machine. I'm never leaving.
[Claire pokes her head around to see him walk in, unable to stop grinning.]
Shoulda known you'd go straight for the kinky innuendo.
[Still, she takes both cups to a nearby table, not really wanting to be that far away from the pot herself. If only they could stay in one place forever...]
[House heads that way, himself, sliding into one of the chairs.]
You knew what you were getting into, babe.
[He smirks. Okay. He can do the light flirting thing. This is... he knows how to do this still. It was only Cameron he was really awkward with. What did Wilson say to do here.]
Your hair's nice. [A pause as he takes his coffee.] I mean, as nice as it gets around here.
Nurse Temple! [House mock-gasps and puts a hand up over his heart, as if scandalized.] I never put out before the third date. [He can only manage seriousness so long before he gets nervous. Apparently his limit is a a few seconds.]
Well, apparently you've got higher standards than I expected. [She smirks, raising an eyebrow. This she can work with, probably.] No wonder you haven't managed to get any action since you arrived.
[Leaning in with her chin in her hand, her elbow, on the table, Claire considers him for a moment.]
But then again, if you keep calling yourself a boy, that's probably another hindrance.
[Still looking at him over her coffee cup, Claire sobers up a little.]
Were you actually serious, when you said you wanted to take me out on a date? Or were you trying to get a rise out of me?
[The room is busy, but not in a way Aranea is entirely comfortable with. She prefers the bar, but she forces herself to make a few rounds, to meet a few people.
And that's how she ends up sitting one of the couches dotted around the room, a glass of Champagne in her hand as she looks at Stephanie, her newest acquaintance.]
So, have you been here for a while? What's it like, really?
[ Steph likes to come to these things mostly so she can get a look at the newcomers. It's the easiest way to stay up to date, when so many people would rather not introduce themselves on the network.
She doesn't much like champagne though, so instead she has a glass of red wine. ]
A few months, yeah. It's pretty much exactly what it claims to be, which believe me was not what I was expecting.
[Aranea runs her tongue over her top teeth at that answer, looking around the room.]
How does it work? Is it just... strangers in the night?
[She is curious, interested, eager in a way. She wants to get her world back to rights, and this place could bring it to her, in actual enjoyable ways. Gift, horse, mouth.]
[ That's actually kind of a complicated question. ]
In most ways it's just like anywhere else, except that it's kind of just... understood that sex is on everyone's mind. Not everyone's, of course, but it's expected, you know? Whereas most places it's more expected that people are looking for a serious, long term relationship, here it's the opposite.
[She takes a sip of her drink, crosses her legs and rests her elbows on her lap. Then she smiles at Steph.]
It's quite strange, to be here. It's going to take some used to, I imagine. I like the idea of it, though - I've not been in a relationship of any kind in a long time. Haven't had much time for it.
[Pyrrha had not had contact with Matt for quite a while, following their last visit. It simply wasn't feasible - the Avengers had teams scouring the galaxy, near and far, for the final of their supposed-infinity stones. Pyrrha had been sent back home, to scour some of the deepest parts of Remnant - there was no time for her to do anything else besides appreciate Remnant's air (that, and, apparently, nearly get killed by some of the most terrifying Grimm she'd ever seen). There's still no real mode of communication between worlds - at least, none that Pyrrha can use to contact Matt. But she has a watch, a cheap, plastic thing she picked up from a street vendor, and she uses it to count the Earth days.
Then it's time to return, to regroup - Pyrrha knows this time, she will remain on Earth. They're getting closer to Armageddon, and they need as many hands as they can find to guard the stones that they do have. It's quite possible this Thanos already has the last stone, but he'll certainly come for the others. Her first night back, Pyrrha is unable to slip away, and it vibrates beneath her skin, this desire to see her friend (she's no other word besides friend, though the bond is deep and true; more than a battle partner. Somehow she thinks no word will be able encompass how much Matt means to her).
It's that first night that the Avengers and their allies get to talking, and Pyrrha joins quietly in the back of the common room. The spider boy is gesturing animatedly, telling some story of a building that collapsed in Hell's Kitchen. He talks about the heroes involved - the Defenders, isn't that so cool? - a man with unbreakable skin, another with the ability to harness his chi, a woman with incredible strength and - the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, of course he'd be right in the middle of it, everyone thinks he's the one that trashed the building. No one's seen heads or tails of him since, but that's his style, right?
Pyrrha just. Freezes. Something awful settles in the pit of her gut, and she has to walk out of the room. Nothing is ever quite so simple, and saving people never comes for free. And if Matt paid that terrible price and she wasn't there to help him...
The following day, Pyrrha slips away, each step towards Matt's apartment increasing the dread exponentially. Please, let it not be empty. Please, let him be okay.]
((ooc: Went for a little post-Defenders flavor! Let me know if you'd like any part of this amended darling~ ))
[ Matt... isn't okay. He is so extremely far from okay, but. He's alive. He's moving. He's out of this comatose state, the one he's been in since the building fell upon he and Elektra. The one he's woken up from with her name on his lips, only to be told he had been the only one to be extracted from the rubble.
He's left the nunnery, now; he's back home, still convalescing, still letting the world at large think that he is dead. At this point, it's easier. If Daredevil is dead, Matt can try and be reborn from the ashes, this time truly sticking to being a lawyer, and only being a lawyer. Maybe now, he can have the normal life he's been craving. Mourn Elektra properly, move on from the Avengers, the Defenders, the Hand, and everything else.
And he's trying. He's really trying. He's getting better, day by day, slowly, relearning how to use his muscles as the burns and bruises slowly fade out from his skin. He's reading cases and keeping himself up to date with new laws. He's keeping himself busy; he doesn't think of Daredevil.
Until he hears her heartbeat. It's like his own stops - hers has a very particular rhythm, one that can't be mistaken. She's not human, not entirely - she's from a completely different world, and her Aura makes her heartbeat sound like it's singing, even when it's beating too fast for her not to be terrified.
Pyrrha.
He hasn't forgotten about her, but it'd been months. She'd been busy, back on Remnant, and he'd been busy, trying to find his footing once more, and then fighting the Hand. But he can't be wrong; there is no one else that would sound like this to him. And she's coming closer, and closer, up the stairs, floor by floor by floor. Matthew stands, pushing his slightly shaky hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
He can only hope his face is not too messed up, still. ]
[Pyrrha didn't look up anything more on the collapsed building, because if she did - if Matt really was in there, and no one had found him yet, dead or alive - Pyrrha didn't think she'd be able to handle it. It was one thing to lose somebody, yes, but a whole other to have to live with the knowledge that maybe you could have done something - but now, too little, too late. Pyrrha can't hear the way Matt can, but she can feel the way her heart is threatening to jump completely out of her breast - part of her thinks the only thing keeping it in is her chestplate.
The last leg of her journey, up the floors to Matt's apartment - she ditches the elevator and the inside steps entirely, bounding up the fire escape and letting her semblance give her an extra push, skipping every four or five steps. Past every floor, all the way to the top - and that's where she hesitates, however briefly, outside the roof access. Matt never keeps it locked, but if it is, if he's not there -
Pyrrha inhales slowly and opens the door, descending into the apartment. It's dark - it's always dark, Matt never needs the lights and Pyrrha could see well enough every time she was over, she never thought to ask - but when she finally gets down the stairs, she spots him, silhouetted against the window.]
Matt.
Not an exclamation, but a breathless, involuntary word, and the pulse-hammering fear is overrun by the skin-tingling relief. She can feel her stomach quiver, the kind that comes from crashing on adrenaline too hard, and Pyrrha closes the gap between them before she can even think it, two quick bounds of a long stride, and then she's hugging him tightly, one hand bunched in the back of his hoodie and the other cradling the back of Matt's head. She doesn't say anything for a moment, but she doesn't need to - it's probably pretty evident that she knows.
But then: Pyrrha pulls back, to look Matt in the face, and inhales sharply. He looks - well, he looks like a building fell on top of him. Pyrrha's hold loosens, and she lets her thumb run gently down Matt's neck. If she's crying, she can't feel it - but for every inch the warrior Pyrrha is, she's still a girl, not impervious to emotion. Besides, if she's learned nothing, it's that bonds of love and friendship are power, not weakness. They give you something to fight for, the courage and strength necessary to die. She supposes the same thing must have kept Matt inside that building.]
[ As he follows her movements, listening in, letting his senses take hold of him, he stays still, waiting for the moment she steps inside fully. He can smell her, then, smell the fear on her breath and the strawberries in her hair, and he inhales sharply, bracing himself for - he isn't sure what. He isn't sure what she knows, what has been told to them, what she thinks. But he prepares himself for some kind of blow, for not having called, for not having given some kind of sign, at least.
He doesn't exact the hug, but - the second Pyrrha wraps her arms around him, Matt relaxes, sags against her, his hands moving to her back, his head bent close to hers, taking stock of her, just here, alive. She's warm and trembling in his arms and he tightens his hold for a moment, just a moment, burying his nose in her hair before she's pulling back and he can imagine the critical look on her face, gives his best self-deprecating smile as he drops his head a little. ]
It looks worse than it feels.
[ Lie, but whatever. He reaches out, tentatively taking one of her hands in his. He's missed her dearly, dearly, but it's having her here with him that's making it incredibly acute right now. ]
[It says something that the first thing Matt expects from a friend is a punch, doesn't it? But Pyrrha doesn't oblige, stretching her fingers out in solid points against his back. He's here, he didn't die on her, and she doesn't quite realize she's shaking until he puts his arms around her in return, and she can't help her relieved smile - though it does nothing for her heart rate returning to normal. She's still worried.]
Does it, now?
[It's obvious from her tone that she doesn't quite believe him, but still, the fact that he's here, flesh and bone, in front of her, is currently overshadowing everything else. It's times like this that she wishes he had aura - well, there's no doubt in Pyrrha's mind that the people of Earth have aura, is just that she isn't sure if it would unlock the same way it did on Remnant - to protect him. She squeezes Matt's hand back, and makes no move to take it away. God, she's so glad he's alive. She has missed him just about more than she can bear, and to come so close to losing that - Pyrrha's other hand cards through the hair at the back of Matt's head, and then she's resting her hand fully on his neck, thumb over his pulse point so she can feel it.]
Just that you were trapped and a...a building collapsed on you? [Pyrrha manages to take her eyes off his face for a moment, taking in the rest of his outfit. She can imagine what new scars must lurk beneath the loose clothing.] ...and that you've made some friends. I couldn't - I couldn't hear the rest. I had to see.
[ For a while, he just holds her close, feels her skin against his, her heartbeat close to his own. He hadn't realized just how much he'd thought she might actually never come back. Like a certainty, almost.
He licks his lips, opening his mouth for a second. ]
Friends would be a bit of an overstatement. Allies, maybe. But not like -
[ It's funny, how he bends his head closer to Pyrrha's, even though he can't look in her eyes in any way that is satisfactory. Still, he does it, his free hand brushing hair off of her face. ]
Not like you. I've missed you, Pyrrha. Didn't think you - you'd come back.
[ Another breath, another moment where he tries to collect his thoughts. ]
But really, I'm fine. I convalesced for a while, but I'm getting back to health. Don't I look it? [ He asks with another smile. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[For Matt]
She feels stupid for obvious reasons. He can't see her, not really, so why would he care that she put on her very favorite sundress for the evening, the one that gives her a proper waist and twirls so nicely? She can just put it down to the fact that the summer heatwave is not abating, and her apartment is way too hot, even with the AC blasting in the living-room. Also, technically, she's been very much less dressed around him, so why does it seem to be more important tonight?
It's fine. It doesn't matter. It's just - a date. With Matt.
Shaking her head, Claire stirs the bolognese sauce she's been working on, tastes the pasta - not quite on either, but soon dinner will be ready. And Matt's still not here, of course - if he actually comes up to the door, she'll be surprised.]
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Claire wants a date with Matt Murdock, not Daredevil. That she knows he's both makes things easier, but harder too. He's never been on a date with someone who knows before. Not since Elektra, and her idea of dates usually involved knives and blood and breaking everything good in him. Claire's not like that at all. It makes Matt a little scared, but he likes it. He likes her, a lot.
So he keeps the armor and the black pajamas in their case tonight and trades them off for a freshly pressed button-up (with just the right buttons undone, you know the ones) and some slacks that are a little nicer than what he'd wear to work. He does the best he can with his hair and slaps on some cologne that even he can barely smell, but it's there. He wants this to work, he wants to have a nice time and maybe not get blood on her couch for once. Unless she's into that?
Either way, Matt can smell her cooking dinner from three blocks away, hear her fussing in her room from two and practically 'see' her as he's down the street, focusing on her familiar heartbeat in the sea of sound that makes up New York City. He smiles the whole way up the stairs, cane tapping mostly unnecessarily, but he wants to give her at least some warning that he's almost here.
When he gets up to the door he doesn't even knock, this asshole. ]
Claire. It's me.
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Still, she walks over, barefoot on creaking floorboards, and throws the door open to him, eyes traveling over him. She raises an eyebrow with a smile as she leans against the door.]
What, no flowers?
[She makes way for him to step inside, tucking hair behind her ear.]
Food's almost ready. You don't need me to tell you where to sit, right?
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[ Matt shrugs, though he'll definitely beat himself up internally for not being more romantic. Maybe he should've brought some wine. Shit. He is so bad at this normal dating thing.
Still he manages to make it through the door, following behind her. She sounds lovely, the soft sound of her dress and bare feet echoing along with the smell of her apartment and how comfortable she is in her space, just at home like this. He can tell the dress she's wearing is one of her favorites, it smells richly of her and sounds more worn than a new dress would. She must look beautiful. She certainly looks it to him.
He leaves his cane by the door and walks up to the table she's set up for them. ]
Anything I can do to help?
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[She slides a bottle over to him, their fingers brushing over it. She stills for a second, before chuckling to herself.]
This shouldn't be awkward. Why is this awkward?
[They've seen each other at their worst. They've helped each other through their worst. Why now, now that they agreed on doing this, having a real date, why is it all so strange? Why is she so nervous?]
[For House]
--
[The restaurant is as dark as every other building Claire has ended up in since arriving in Norfinbury, but there's something warm about it - maybe the smells, faint but definitely there. The smell of greasy food, and the even fainter aroma of coffee.
She sighs, something like delight in the noise, and starts making her way through the restaurant. If she finds real coffee and it's not just a cruel Norfinbury trick...
She walks around for a while, just observing, taking in the place. It looks like a McDonalds, something reassuring in the standard plastic chairs and Formica tables. Still on a hunt for coffee, Claire looks around the kitchen. From here, she can't see the front door, but if House makes it here like he said he would, she's sure she'll hear him.
She sighs again, this time a little less content. This - this whole idea, of meeting up with House - feels like it could go so badly, but she's committed, now, and she'll see it through.
Who knows, maybe he'll even be nice.]
Ah-ah! Score!
[She's quick to pull out two mugs when she finds the coffee, smelling the pot for a moment with her eyes closed, a happy smile on her face.]
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If that's real coffee I smell, chain me to the freaking machine. I'm never leaving.
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Shoulda known you'd go straight for the kinky innuendo.
[Still, she takes both cups to a nearby table, not really wanting to be that far away from the pot herself. If only they could stay in one place forever...]
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You knew what you were getting into, babe.
[He smirks. Okay. He can do the light flirting thing. This is... he knows how to do this still. It was only Cameron he was really awkward with. What did Wilson say to do here.]
Your hair's nice. [A pause as he takes his coffee.] I mean, as nice as it gets around here.
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[But she smirks back, curling her hands around her cup of coffee and leaning in a little. Then she tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.]
You're actually making an effort, I'm impressed. Hoping to get laid? It's a bit cold around here for that stuff.
[She is kinda hoping to get through all the bullshit. Just have a nice, normal conversation, after all the awkwardness is behind them.]
But thanks. Appreciate it. Your beard is also quite good.
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What kind of boy do you think I am?
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[Leaning in with her chin in her hand, her elbow, on the table, Claire considers him for a moment.]
But then again, if you keep calling yourself a boy, that's probably another hindrance.
[Still looking at him over her coffee cup, Claire sobers up a little.]
Were you actually serious, when you said you wanted to take me out on a date? Or were you trying to get a rise out of me?
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i'm so sorry about the delay OTL
No worries!
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[For Steph; Eudio M&G]
And that's how she ends up sitting one of the couches dotted around the room, a glass of Champagne in her hand as she looks at Stephanie, her newest acquaintance.]
So, have you been here for a while? What's it like, really?
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She doesn't much like champagne though, so instead she has a glass of red wine. ]
A few months, yeah. It's pretty much exactly what it claims to be, which believe me was not what I was expecting.
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How does it work? Is it just... strangers in the night?
[She is curious, interested, eager in a way. She wants to get her world back to rights, and this place could bring it to her, in actual enjoyable ways. Gift, horse, mouth.]
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[ That's actually kind of a complicated question. ]
In most ways it's just like anywhere else, except that it's kind of just... understood that sex is on everyone's mind. Not everyone's, of course, but it's expected, you know? Whereas most places it's more expected that people are looking for a serious, long term relationship, here it's the opposite.
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[She takes a sip of her drink, crosses her legs and rests her elbows on her lap. Then she smiles at Steph.]
It's quite strange, to be here. It's going to take some used to, I imagine. I like the idea of it, though - I've not been in a relationship of any kind in a long time. Haven't had much time for it.
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I know the feeling. This place is a day at the spa compared to home. And I haven't even gone to the actual spa yet.
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What's a spa?
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[For Matt]
Then it's time to return, to regroup - Pyrrha knows this time, she will remain on Earth. They're getting closer to Armageddon, and they need as many hands as they can find to guard the stones that they do have. It's quite possible this Thanos already has the last stone, but he'll certainly come for the others. Her first night back, Pyrrha is unable to slip away, and it vibrates beneath her skin, this desire to see her friend (she's no other word besides friend, though the bond is deep and true; more than a battle partner. Somehow she thinks no word will be able encompass how much Matt means to her).
It's that first night that the Avengers and their allies get to talking, and Pyrrha joins quietly in the back of the common room. The spider boy is gesturing animatedly, telling some story of a building that collapsed in Hell's Kitchen. He talks about the heroes involved - the Defenders, isn't that so cool? - a man with unbreakable skin, another with the ability to harness his chi, a woman with incredible strength and - the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, of course he'd be right in the middle of it, everyone thinks he's the one that trashed the building. No one's seen heads or tails of him since, but that's his style, right?
Pyrrha just. Freezes. Something awful settles in the pit of her gut, and she has to walk out of the room. Nothing is ever quite so simple, and saving people never comes for free. And if Matt paid that terrible price and she wasn't there to help him...
The following day, Pyrrha slips away, each step towards Matt's apartment increasing the dread exponentially. Please, let it not be empty. Please, let him be okay.]
((ooc: Went for a little post-Defenders flavor! Let me know if you'd like any part of this amended darling~ ))
nfdlvnfewkcl oh what a setup i need to lie down
He's left the nunnery, now; he's back home, still convalescing, still letting the world at large think that he is dead. At this point, it's easier. If Daredevil is dead, Matt can try and be reborn from the ashes, this time truly sticking to being a lawyer, and only being a lawyer. Maybe now, he can have the normal life he's been craving. Mourn Elektra properly, move on from the Avengers, the Defenders, the Hand, and everything else.
And he's trying. He's really trying. He's getting better, day by day, slowly, relearning how to use his muscles as the burns and bruises slowly fade out from his skin. He's reading cases and keeping himself up to date with new laws. He's keeping himself busy; he doesn't think of Daredevil.
Until he hears her heartbeat. It's like his own stops - hers has a very particular rhythm, one that can't be mistaken. She's not human, not entirely - she's from a completely different world, and her Aura makes her heartbeat sound like it's singing, even when it's beating too fast for her not to be terrified.
Pyrrha.
He hasn't forgotten about her, but it'd been months. She'd been busy, back on Remnant, and he'd been busy, trying to find his footing once more, and then fighting the Hand. But he can't be wrong; there is no one else that would sound like this to him. And she's coming closer, and closer, up the stairs, floor by floor by floor. Matthew stands, pushing his slightly shaky hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
He can only hope his face is not too messed up, still. ]
;D
The last leg of her journey, up the floors to Matt's apartment - she ditches the elevator and the inside steps entirely, bounding up the fire escape and letting her semblance give her an extra push, skipping every four or five steps. Past every floor, all the way to the top - and that's where she hesitates, however briefly, outside the roof access. Matt never keeps it locked, but if it is, if he's not there -
Pyrrha inhales slowly and opens the door, descending into the apartment. It's dark - it's always dark, Matt never needs the lights and Pyrrha could see well enough every time she was over, she never thought to ask - but when she finally gets down the stairs, she spots him, silhouetted against the window.]
Matt.
Not an exclamation, but a breathless, involuntary word, and the pulse-hammering fear is overrun by the skin-tingling relief. She can feel her stomach quiver, the kind that comes from crashing on adrenaline too hard, and Pyrrha closes the gap between them before she can even think it, two quick bounds of a long stride, and then she's hugging him tightly, one hand bunched in the back of his hoodie and the other cradling the back of Matt's head. She doesn't say anything for a moment, but she doesn't need to - it's probably pretty evident that she knows.
But then: Pyrrha pulls back, to look Matt in the face, and inhales sharply. He looks - well, he looks like a building fell on top of him. Pyrrha's hold loosens, and she lets her thumb run gently down Matt's neck. If she's crying, she can't feel it - but for every inch the warrior Pyrrha is, she's still a girl, not impervious to emotion. Besides, if she's learned nothing, it's that bonds of love and friendship are power, not weakness. They give you something to fight for, the courage and strength necessary to die. She supposes the same thing must have kept Matt inside that building.]
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He doesn't exact the hug, but - the second Pyrrha wraps her arms around him, Matt relaxes, sags against her, his hands moving to her back, his head bent close to hers, taking stock of her, just here, alive. She's warm and trembling in his arms and he tightens his hold for a moment, just a moment, burying his nose in her hair before she's pulling back and he can imagine the critical look on her face, gives his best self-deprecating smile as he drops his head a little. ]
It looks worse than it feels.
[ Lie, but whatever. He reaches out, tentatively taking one of her hands in his. He's missed her dearly, dearly, but it's having her here with him that's making it incredibly acute right now. ]
What have you heard?
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Does it, now?
[It's obvious from her tone that she doesn't quite believe him, but still, the fact that he's here, flesh and bone, in front of her, is currently overshadowing everything else. It's times like this that she wishes he had aura - well, there's no doubt in Pyrrha's mind that the people of Earth have aura, is just that she isn't sure if it would unlock the same way it did on Remnant - to protect him. She squeezes Matt's hand back, and makes no move to take it away. God, she's so glad he's alive. She has missed him just about more than she can bear, and to come so close to losing that -
Pyrrha's other hand cards through the hair at the back of Matt's head, and then she's resting her hand fully on his neck, thumb over his pulse point so she can feel it.]
Just that you were trapped and a...a building collapsed on you? [Pyrrha manages to take her eyes off his face for a moment, taking in the rest of his outfit. She can imagine what new scars must lurk beneath the loose clothing.] ...and that you've made some friends. I couldn't - I couldn't hear the rest. I had to see.
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He licks his lips, opening his mouth for a second. ]
Friends would be a bit of an overstatement. Allies, maybe. But not like -
[ It's funny, how he bends his head closer to Pyrrha's, even though he can't look in her eyes in any way that is satisfactory. Still, he does it, his free hand brushing hair off of her face. ]
Not like you. I've missed you, Pyrrha. Didn't think you - you'd come back.
[ Another breath, another moment where he tries to collect his thoughts. ]
But really, I'm fine. I convalesced for a while, but I'm getting back to health. Don't I look it? [ He asks with another smile. ]
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vjdflbv sorry i've been so sick i've left everything fester for a while
it's absolutely fine hun, we're getting into that season! >.<
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again sorry for the delay and also hapy new year <3
no problem, school roundhouse kicked me in the teeth. Happy New Year!!
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