Matt Murdock Shorts

When She's Yours She Brings the Sunshine; When She's Gone the World Goes Dark

A/n: This is a request from @girlsluvsuperheroes from forever ago, but I'm finally posting it.
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You moved in with your aunt Fran, at 18. And you've had a crush on your very blind neighbor since he moved in a few years later. The blindness wouldn't be an issue, except that you're deaf, and well, you have no idea how to communicate with him. Your parents never learned sign language, but when you spoke with them, they had no shortage of critiques about how you spoke. Over time, it's something you've accepted about yourself, but it's still nerve-wracking trying to talk to the attractive man across the hall. After all, he can't see you. Your voice is all he's going to have to go off of at first. At first. Like there's going to be a later for the two of you. You're 95% sure he doesn't even know you exist. And he's not going to if you don't work up the nerve to talk to him.

You're brought out of your thoughts by a balled up page of a catalog flying and hitting you in the face. You pick up the paper and throw it back at Fran where she's sitting in her recliner.

"What?" You sign.

"You're thinking about that boy across the hall." She signs back.

"No, I wasn't."

She raises her brows. "Does he even know you live here?"

"What difference would it make if he did?"

She shrugs. "Maybe he'd talk to you if he knew you were here."

You roll your eyes. "Sure. Anyway, he always wears those glasses. It's harder to read him and it's not like I can ask him to take them off."

"They're not stuck to his face. Once he got comfortable with you he'd take them off. Anyway, he's very expressive. If you don't talk to him I will."

"No, you won't."

She laughs. "Watch me."

-0-

You've convinced Fran not to say anything to Matt but you still can't stop thinking about him. That could be because over the last couple months he's been looking more and more depressed. Not to mention all the weight he's losing. Of course, you don't know what's going on with him, so- as much as you wish you could- it's hard to help. Still, the first step to moving on from heartache is comfort food. It's one of the few happy memories of your childhood.

Your parents never did a good job of hiding what a burden you were to them, but they showed their guilt laced love every once in awhile. Whenever you accomplished something in school, your father made a pie and served it fresh. Of course, it was always accompanied by the ever patronizing 'you did well; for a deaf girl'. But that's your past and not the point. The point is that you're making pie for Matt because he's sad and skinny.

-0-

The sweet smell of fruit and processed filling hits him before the knock sounds through his apartment. Except, he can't place the rabbit-fast heartbeat on the other side of the door. It sounds distantly familiar, maybe an acquaintance, but not anyone he's close to. So why is there pie? They must have the wrong place. As he's getting up, they knock again, more tentative this time.

"Uh, hi." Matt says as he opens the door. When you don't respond, he tilts his head to the side, trying to get a read on you. You're looking down the hall, acting like you didn't hear him open the door, so he leans on the door frame and crosses his arms.

You jump when you turn back and see him there. You go to introduce yourself, but you stop short. Your parents always told you that you sounded better when you put your hand on your throat and felt yourself speak. You know you shouldn't have to care about these things, but it's so ingrained, it's become a nervous habit. Not to mention that you're finally talking to your neighbor you've been pining after and you're already nervous. So, you hold out the pie until he tentatively takes it.