Love On Fire

Lover's Rock

I slowly open my eyes, the sun burning them slightly. I let out a long yawn as my hand roams to the side of the bed feeling for Matthew, but he's not there. Instead of his bare skin under my fingertips I feel the cold feeling of his bedsheets. I turn my head and see his side of the blanket is pushed to cover me more and his pillow still has the indent of his head.

With a sigh I sit up and look at my clean bandages.

That's a good sign.

I get out of bed and slip on last nights clothes that Matthew bought me, walking out into the living room.

Matthew stays seated as his fingers roam over pieces of paper as he reads. I bite my lip and slip into the bathroom for a quick shower. I remove all my bandages and see that most of the cuts are healed and the stitches are starting to dissolve.

After I finish my shower I exit the bathroom with a robe on to see Matthew still seated, barely moved from his position from an hour ago. I walk over to him, and stand behind his chair as I look at what he's reading.

Articles and statements of his new client that he thinks is a victim to Fisk.

"How long have you been up?" I ask as I run my hands along his shoulders to calm his tensed muscles.

"What time is it?" He asks me, his fingers never stopping for a second. I look over my shoulder to the clock on the stovetop that reads around 8am.

"Around 8." I answer as I look back down at him. His usual neat brown hair is now disheveled and sticking out, his eyes are turned downward, and his under eyes are slightly red.

He chuckles lowly before answering my question. "For a while."

I lean my head down against his shoulder from behind him and wrap my arms around his torso. He sighs and finally stops working, instead he places his hands over my own and leans his head lightly over mine.

"You're overworking youself." I tell him.

"I need to protect this city." He reminds me.

"I know." I sigh before biting my lip, hoping I don't over step.

"But who decided that it had to be you?" I ask lowly. He stay quiet, he only rubs his calloused fingers over my hands.

"I did." He murmurs. I sigh and get up slowly, walking over to the other side of the table, so I can see his face.

"Doesn't have to be just you." I add.

"I don't want to get anyone else in danger." He tells me as he sits forward touching my hands, intertwining them.

"I know you don't. But I don't want to always have to patch you up. Can't you let the police do their jobs?" I ask and he sighs shaking his head.

"The police are controlled by Fisk. This is much bigger now." He explains and my heart drops.

"At least take days off. You know...live life." I tell him with a shrug.

"Live life?" He asks with a small smirk.

"I know cheesy." I laugh back at him. "But it's true."

"I suppose." He trails off. An idea pops into my head as I tug his hands slightly.

"When's the last time you let go?" I ask with a smile. He looks at me, thinking to himself.

"Since college." He answers.

"And how long ago was that?" I ask, realizating I don't actually know how old he is.

"9 years." He states.