002. theoretical heart-wheels

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chapter two / theoretical heart-wheels

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chapter two / theoretical heart-wheels

chapter two / theoretical heart-wheels

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CIRCA: 2006, December 1st

MATT MURDOCK'S HAIR WAS PIN FLAT. That's how it used to be, at least. His glasses used to be rectangular, tinted black, instead of the blood-red he wears now. He used to wear more vintage sweaters. I could never get him to take off those stupid sweaters. He swore they were better quality than regular sweatshirts. He had more of a boyish charm about him, though I don't think that ever went away.

I hadn't seen the sun in weeks due to cramming last-minute for exams. It was the first day of winter break and my roommate had already packed her bags, all ready to fly out to her family. I wasn't that fortunate. The holidays were always a reminder of what wasn't there for me.

The family that wasn't waiting for me by the fireplace. I had already made up an excuse to Becca, saying my family and I don't like to spend holidays together. That we had a complicated relationship —which couldn't be farther from the truth; we didn't have a relationship to rekindle. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Becca asks me one more time.

I nod silently, shuffling my papers to seem like I'm busy. "Of course. I never go home for Christmas. I might even hit up a bar or two. Who knows?"

Becca snorts. We both know I wouldn't be caught dead in a bar. She seems to take pity on me because she doesn't push it. I practically shove her out the door, and she doesn't protest it. "Drive safe. Be safe. Call me." I say before shutting the door. I hear laughter and then footsteps that stray further away as my pulse beats. I let out a soft sigh. I need to keep my mind before I lose it. I walk towards my desk and pull out the nearest notebook.

I review my coursework from the last semester and treat myself to a glass of wine. I slip into the comfiest PJs I could find and plop onto the couch. Our apartment wasn't much, but it was enough for the two of us. Two bedrooms and one bathroom. A small kitchen with an even smaller living area. I skim through the latest movies and settle on a movie about the French revolution.

It had been about an hour before anyone else dared to knock on my door. My head raised from my curled-up position. "Morgan." A male voice called out from behind the door. "Morgan. I have a DVD of your favorite soap opera. It's calling your name!"

Laughter bubbled out of me. I set down my half-drunk glass and walked to the door. And, of course, Matthew Murdock's beautiful face is in my eyesight. He looks like he had just woken up from a nice nap. Though, I had been friends with him long enough to know that he had styled it that way on purpose. Matt shoves the DVD into my arms. I hold up the cover curiously. 90210. I bark out a laugh, "Oh God. Matt, this isn't a soap opera. You know that, right?"

He frowns before slowly stepping into the apartment. I let him grasp onto my arm; led him to the kitchen counter. He takes a seat, swiveling around at the sound of my voice: "You brought me an artifact from your childhood? How sweet."

Matt smiles and reaches out, touching the wine glasses. "And you've been drinking red wine while watching French movies? How revolutionary."

I reach for the remote, turning off the blaring sounds of French men arguing back and forth. I take a spare glass from the cabinet, filling it to the brim. "Red wine?" I ask. Matt nods, sitting up from his seat and finding his way to the couch. It makes me realize how many times Matt has been over, now that he knows the apartment's layout just by feeling. I walk over to the couch, placing one of the glasses into Matt's cold hands. I threw him a spare blanket, "Did you seriously walk out here in this weather?"

He shrugs, pulling the blanket over the both of us. "I mean, I had to get you your '90210' DVD. How else would you survive the lonely nights? Now you have Luke Perry to keep you warm." 

I roll my eyes and sip my wine. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want. Luke Perry will always be number one in my heart. What about you? Aren't you still dating that Elektra girl?"

"Yeah. I haven't gotten the chance to introduce her to anyone. She's really cool. You'd like her a lot Morgan. You both hate men and come from wealthy families."

"Well, she sounds awesome," I say. I sound more sincere than I am. She does sound awesome, I'll admit. But I don't why I feel so apprehensive about it all. I try to ignore the pit in my stomach when I think about it too hard.

Matt grabs for the disc, flipping it over and into the tray. The theme song for 90210 starts to play and we hush into silence.

I narrate the story for him when he gets lost: "Why does the cast sound different?" He asks. "They replaced an actor or two," I reply, "This show ran for like ten years. That's longer than some marriages last. I couldn't be that committed either."

I watch him as he laughs, his shoulders shaking. I think my heart does a cartwheel at the sound. Well, a theoretical cartwheel.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 27, 2022 ⏰

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