Matt Murdock Shorts

You Know That Right?

A/n: This one is about self harm, but there's no graphic descriptions and everything happens "off screen" so keep that in mind before you choose to read it.

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"Matt, I'm home love." You say, earning no response. He must still be at work. You think as you sigh and put your stuff down.

You plop on the sofa and think about your rather shitty day; you seem to be having more and more of those lately. You've recently started cutting just to try and feel something. It doesn't help. Benefits of having a blind boyfriend: he can't see the scars. Or so you thought.

You were in bed with him a couple nights ago when he started absently running his hands along your forearms. It was a good day, so you didn't think to stop him until it was too late.

He inhaled sharply and sat up, feeling along your arms with a purpose now. His voice dropped an octave when he said your name. "What happened here?"

"Cat scratch." You pulled away from him.

He furrowed his brows and you had to control your breathing so he didn't know you were lying. After a minute of him analyzing you he let out a sigh of relief and pulled you close again. "He got you pretty bad this time."

"Yeah, I need to trim his nails."

You hated lying to him, and that you actually could shocked you, but you couldn't tell him.

-0-

Matt comes waltzing through the door. He finds you in the kitchen and wraps his arms around your waist, burring his head in the crook of your neck.

"Hello." His breath ghosts against your skin and a shiver runs over your body. He starts kissing under your ear and continues down your neck and shoulder, running his hands over your biceps.

The knife in your hands clatters into the kitchen sink and Matt goes rigid. "Y/n, what are you doing?"

"I was just doing the dishes. Almost done now." You try to make your voice sound light, warm, happy; something you're not right now.

"Then why do I taste copper in the air?"

"There's a few more pennies in my purse today?"

He gives you an exasperated look, his eyes meeting your chin.

"I just cut myself on accident with the steak knife. Don't worry." Well half of that's true. You get on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek.

He pauses and you know he's listening for any signs that something is off. "Alright." He kisses your cheek. "I'm going to get into the shower."

You have to make a conscious effort not to let out a sigh of relief. "Alright, see you in a few." You turn the water on and wash off the knife. By the time he gets out of the shower you've got most of the bleeding to stop. "I think I'm going to shower now." You say, trying to buy yourself some time before he realizes that the cuts weren't an accident.

"Alright." He nods. Once he puts on a pair of sweatpants he grabs a beer and sits on the sofa. He can feel that something's wrong with you, but he can't place what it is. He sniffs.

The smell of dish soap is't saturating the apartment like it always does after the dishes get done. There's a hint of it, but not as much as there usually is. He places his beer on the coffee table and gets up to investigate. He feels the sponge,it's wet enough to wash maybe a couple things, but not to do that many dishes. He did the dishes before he left this morning anyway; wanted you to relax when you got home. He still tastes the copper in the air, that's more than 'oh I nicked myself on accident'. That's when he hears broken sobs coming from the bathroom.