𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞 || 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐎𝐂

XI. Ace Of Spades

A/N- Why hello there my Hotties. How are you all doing? I'm back with another chapter, and I think you all are going to really enjoy this one despite how short it is. 

I am so glad I finally had time to write this! I am currently sitting in a coffee shop with a cherry tart and cup of coffee in hand, already starting on our next chapter (Which I think you will enjoy *Wink Wink*)

Also, as you may or may not know I have a playlist chapter for this book. I was wondering if you guys could give me any songs you feel go well with either this book, a specific chapter, or just Matt and Holly. Thank you <3

Anyway, without further ado. Chapter eleven my loves :)

Chapter 11

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 "And let me just say, this chick must be smoking because I have never seen Matt more flustered over a girl. Even in college he wasn't this bad."

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Holly stayed the night at Matt's place for the past two nights. 

A time frame was never discussed. Yet, despite Holly's constant bannering voice declaring that she wouldn't be lingering at Matt's place any longer due to Holly feeling like-and Matt quoted- a dick who doesn't know boarders- she would somehow find herself curled up in Matt's arms with her head pressed against his chest in his bed. 

Even when Holly would spend the night, Matt didn't let that get in the way of his patrol. Even though the sound of Holly's heartbeat was enough to make him fall into a peaceful rest. He knew he had a roll to play, a city to save. So every night after he would hear Holly's breathing become slower and calm, he would slip out of bed, replacing his body with a pillow for Holly to hold until he got back.

Even though he thought Holly was fast asleep, the second he would step foot outside, her eyes would open wide. 

Holly's chest would be tight as small bated breaths escaped her lungs. She would lie on her side, watching the door that he would stumble into, either bloody and bruised, or completely unspotted, just hanging fire like a scared child in the dark. 

Holly would gape blankly down the dimly lit hallway that blue, purple, and pink lights would escape to, brightening even the darkest corners of Matthews apartment. She'd stress over if he would even come back, let alone still be alive by the end of the night, racking her brain, counting the hours he would be gone. 

He was never gone for more then two hours at a time. She remined herself of those words every single night. 

And then, when two hours would pass-almost as if called upon- Matt would open the door from the roof and make his way down the staircase. The darkness of his clothing would sting her eyes as she would squint, trying to examine any signs of distress on his body. 

The sound of the shower would fill her ears as her eyes would flutter shut, only hearing nugatory bits of Matt completing his after patrol routine. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she would feel the bed dip next to her and the sheets would become filled with hot air from another body. A warm arm would often slide around her ribcage, followed by a hand intertwining it's fingers in hers.