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A crack of lightning cut through the darkened sky, the bright flash stretching between the tops of the tall buildings. Holding onto Matt's hand, the pair of you darted down the sidewalk as the roar of thunder boomed overhead, muffling the sound of your breathless laughter. The following rumble nearly shook Hell’s Kitchen down to its foundation as the rain continued to pour down from the sky.
You and Matt splashed through puddle after puddle as you rushed back home in an attempt to escape the storm, your feet already soaked and slipping in your sandals as you hurried along the pavement. The dress you’d chosen for tonight was drenched from the sudden onslaught of rain, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your thighs with every step. You assumed Matt wasn’t fairing much better in his jeans and gray shirt, but you were too focused on guiding him through the other passersbys with their umbrellas to pay attention to the current state of his own attire.
With your fingers entwined together, you pulled Matt straight towards the entrance of the apartment building once you finally reached it. Roughly pushing your shoulder against the door, it swung wide open as a burst of cold air hit your damp skin, the chill of it a sharp contrast to the summer humidity outside. You dragged Matt inside with you, both of you finally finding shelter from the menacing storm brewing outside.
Your heart pounded erratically in your chest from the effort of running the last two blocks back here from the Japanese restaurant where you’d both just had dinner. Gasping for air as you pulled Matt further into the lobby and out of the way of the entrance, your chest heaved against the drenched cotton of your dress. Looking over at Matt as you tried to catch your breath, you felt goosebumps prickle over your now chilled skin as you grinned at the side of his face.
Matt’s cheeks were slightly flushed, a tinge of pink visible just beneath his glasses and above the dark stubble along his jaw. His dark hair clung to his forehead, completely soaked from the rain and thoroughly mussed. The gray shirt he’d thrown on after work now clung like a second skin to his shoulders and chest as he panted for air, each muscle distinctly visible beneath the wet material.
Despite his disheveled appearance, there was a matching wide smile spread across his face, and it made your stomach flip as if this had been your first date all over again. Sensing your attention on him, Matt’s head turned over his shoulder towards you and his smile grew even wider. A few beads of water trickled down his cheeks and from the tip of his nose, each one eventually dropping down onto the tiled floor.
“Suppose that’s one way to end a date night,” Matt said between breaths.
“Oh, did you not plan the torrential downpour?” you teased back breathlessly.
The corner of his lip twitched, his smile turning cheeky. “Honestly, whatever gets you soaked works for me,” he joked, bumping your shoulder playfully with his. “Especially on a date night.”
Eyes widening in complete mortification at how loudly he’d made that crude joke, you sucked in a sharp breath before nervously glancing around the lobby. Another deep roar of thunder shook the city as your gaze darted from person to person, the overhead lights briefly flickering from the storm as you internally hoped no one had heard him.
“Matt,” you whispered harshly. “We're not exactly alone right now. You know that, right?”
He chuckled, his fingers giving yours a light squeeze. Ducking his head towards you, he whispered into your ear, “No one noticed. I think the storm is far more interesting than us.”
Beginning to take unsteady steps in your slippery sandals towards the three elevators at the opposite end of the lobby, you shook your head at Matt as you gently pulled him along with you. He followed after, his cane still folded up in his other hand. He hadn’t even had a chance to unfold it when the rain had started dumping down from the sky just as you’d both stepped outside of the restaurant. You’d been hoping for a romantic, sweet stroll back home to end the long overdue date night with, but instead you’d both gotten a very uncomfortable sprint through the rain–if you could call what you’d done sprinting.
The sound of the rain pelting against the glass windows grew louder as the storm intensified outside, and another rumble of thunder tore through Hell’s Kitchen. You swore you could feel it shake the building as the lights flickered again, blinking in and out as you led Matt to a stop in front of the elevators. You glanced up, shooting them a dubious glance on the ceiling while reaching out to press the call button for the elevator.
“I’m glad we left when we did,” you told Matt, shifting your attention over your shoulder. The windows at the front of the lobby were impossible to see through now with how hard the rain was coming down. “It looks like it’s getting pretty bad out there.”
Turning your attention back to Matt as you both waited for the elevator, you saw that he’d tilted his head ever so slightly over his other shoulder. The grin on his face had vanished, his expression replaced with a look of serious concentration. You frowned as you silently watched him, waiting for one of the elevator doors to finally open so that you could both head up to the apartment and find dry clothes.
“You’re not planning to go out tonight, are you?” you asked him. “It can’t possibly be safe in this storm, Matt.”
“Things don’t stop just because of the weather, sweetheart,” Matt replied, somewhat distracted.
The elevator doors on your left opened with a dismal ding, and with a heavy sigh, you led Matt over towards it with you. As you stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the sixth floor, you could feel the cold droplets of water dripping from the hem of your dress and landing onto your bare calves. A shiver ran through you as you steadily grew colder in the air conditioning with how your sopping wet clothes clung to your skin. Taking notice of your discomfort, Matt released his hold on your hand in order to slip his arm around your waist, drawing you into his side as the elevator doors slowly closed. You instinctively pressed yourself against his own damp side, seeking the warmth of his body heat through both of your wet layers. Thankfully Matt always ran warm no matter what.
While you knew Matt had a point that whatever he was working on as Daredevil lately wasn’t going to just take a night off because of the weather, you also didn’t exactly like the idea of him running around on the rooftops in the middle of quite a violent thunderstorm. He had the ability to fight countless enemies, but you highly doubted he had the ability to dodge lightning.
“I know that,” you mumbled, resting your head along his shoulder. “But I still worry about you getting fried on a rooftop.”
“I'll be fine,” he assured you.
Matt leaned down to where your head rested on his shoulder and pressed his lips gently against your temple, letting them linger for a few seconds. Your eyes closed beneath the tender touch, feeling a bit of the tension ease out of you as the elevator steadily rose towards the top of the building.
“I wish you didn’t have to go out again tonight,” you murmured as Matt's lips finally pulled away. “I understand why, and I know being engaged doesn't change all of that, I just wish the criminals in Hell’s Kitchen would just–shit!”
The elevator gave an abrupt, noisy lurch that'd caused you to briefly lose your footing and stumble forward. Your eyes flew wide open in a panic as your head slipped off Matt’s shoulder, your heart flying up into your throat at the jolt, but your vision was met with near darkness. Only a small light glowed at the top of the elevator, so faint that it created an eerie effect that made your skin crawl. Matt's arm immediately tightened around your waist, pulling you safely right back into his side.
“I think the storm must've caused a power outage,” Matt told you. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you answered, a tremor in your words. “Just–just a little freaked out at being stuck in an elevator.”
“You're with me,” he reminded you, his arm keeping you pressed into his side. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”
“You don’t know that. What if the cables break?” you asked, your mind beginning to spiral in a split second. “The whole elevator could drop and we'd be seriously injured in here, Matt. Or what if it takes a long time for the power to come back on and we're stuck here all night? There’s no bathroom here! And I’m freezing in these wet clothes!”
You could feel your panic increasing as you glanced around the darkened elevator, taking in your minimal surroundings. The space was already small, probably just five feet by four feet. With barely any light illuminating it, the elevator seemed even smaller than usual, as if the metal walls were gradually closing in on you. That thought had your chest growing tight, and one of your hands began tugging at the neck of your dress, suddenly feeling even more uncomfortable in it.
“Sweetheart, breathe,” Matt urged. “You know I wouldn’t let you get hurt.”
His arm slipped away from where it was wrapped around your waist before both of his hands landed on your shoulders. He turned you gently towards himself, forcing your attention to fall on him so you were no longer staring at the four little walls boxing you both in. In the faint white glow from the tiny light at the top of the elevator, Matt’s heavily shadowed face looked far more calm than you felt. But you could tell he was somewhat amused by your sudden rush of outlandish worries just by the slight quirk of his lips.
“The elevator is fine, it just doesn't have power, sweetheart,” he assured you. “I would be able to hear if we were dangling precariously by a cable in here, and I can promise you that we are not. And while I highly doubt we’ll be in here for the duration of the evening, if you need to relieve yourself in the corner of the elevator, chances are I’ll be doing the same thing with you.”
Your fingers still gripped the neckline of your dress as you tugged it away from your skin, your breath coming in a little harsher since the elevator had stopped. “That’s not funny, Matt,” you retorted. “I don’t need to achieve that level of comfortability in front of you before we’ve even walked down the aisle.”
“I promise it won’t make me ask for the ring back,” he playfully amended. “If that makes you feel better.”
“It doesn’t,” you replied dryly. “And the jokes aren’t helping.”
Matt nodded, the faint smile vanishing from his shadowed face at your tone. His tongue slipped out between his lips, slowly and contemplatively grazing along his lower lip. Your heart continued to thunder away inside of your chest as you watched him, catching the flicker behind his hazel eyes as his sightless gaze shifted down to the pulse point along your neck. A shiver ran through you at how intensely focused you realized he was on your body.
“Alright, how about we sit down?” Matt suggested.
His left hand left your shoulder, gesturing down at the floor of the elevator. Your eyes followed the sweep of his hand before you gave the old vinyl tile an uncertain side-eye in the dark. You doubted it had been cleaned recently, and you didn’t particularly want to think about what might be on the floor, but sitting down did sound better than standing here for hours.
“Okay,” you agreed.
With a small, quivering sigh, you slowly lowered yourself to sit down on the cold, outdated tile. Matt had sunk down to the elevator floor along with you, once more wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. His presence at least helped to keep you from completely mentally spiralling even further in the elevator, but you still weren’t feeling anywhere close to being calm. Especially with how disturbingly quiet it was inside of your metal enclosure–you couldn’t even hear the storm raging outside even if you were positive that Matt could.
“How soon do you want to get married?” Matt asked.
Taken entirely off guard by the seemingly out of left field question, you slightly recoiled against his side. With your face scrunching up in utter confusion, you sat there gaping at Matt for a few seconds as you waited for him to elaborate. He only smiled warmly back at you, looking as if he could have been sitting on the couch back home or behind his desk at work instead of trapped in a dark elevator with you.
“I don’t think we’re running off to any courthouses to make it official tonight, Matt,” you pointed out.
He chuckled at your sarcastic comment, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours as the warm sound echoed around the small space. He pulled you back into his side, the heat of him a comforting contrast to the wet fabric still clinging to you. Goosebumps rippled over the bare skin of your arms as you absorbed his body heat, leaning further into him in search of more of it.
“I’m aware of that,” he replied. “I thought it was clear that I was trying to distract you from our current predicament by discussing wedding planning, but apparently it wasn’t that obvious. So this is me stating my intent–I’m trying to distract you while we’re stuck here.”
“Oh,” you murmured sheepishly, cheeks warming slightly. “That makes sense.”
“So,” Matt tried again, a faint grin on his lips, “how soon do you want to get married?”
You shifted on the tile floor as a wave of uncertainty washed over you. Just like that, Matt had managed to make your mind shift from overthinking every horrible scenario that could possibly arise from being stuck in an elevator, to overthinking about wedding planning. Especially since neither of you had really sat down and had a chance to discuss anything about it ever since he’d proposed a few weeks ago.
How soon did Matt want to get married? You didn’t even know the answer to that. Was he hoping that you’d want a long engagement because he wasn’t quite ready to truly dive into such a serious commitment yet? Or was he ready to rush right into it with you? And how was Daredevil going to play into everything? Would he disappear on the wedding day if something important came up?
“There’s no right or wrong answer here, sweetheart,” Matt teased lightly, breaking through your thoughts. “It was just a question. We’ve certainly got the time to discuss our wedding right now.”
Of course he could tell that you were sitting here overthinking your answer. It was Matt. He always knew. You supposed it wouldn't hurt to just tell him where your mind had disappeared lately when you sat at your desk at The Bulletin unable to focus on work, too distracted by thoughts of your future wedding.
“Well, I sort have been thinking about it lately,” you quietly confessed, your gaze drifting down towards your hands. They were fidgeting nervously with the damp fabric of your dress, peeling it away from your thighs only for the material to suction itself back to your skin when you let go of it. “I was considering the idea of a spring wedding. Maybe next spring? I figured summer would probably be too unbearably hot for both of us.”
Matt hummed thoughtfully at your answer, the smile broadening along his face. Casually leaning back towards the wall of the elevator behind you both, he pulled you along with him with the arm still wrapped around your waist.
“I like the sound of next spring,” he said.
“I just hope that I could plan everything in time,” you continued, lowering your head to his shoulder, your cheek resting against the damp fabric of his shirt. “Marci was talking about how fast everything books up. Florists, bakers, venues, photographers.”
“We’d find a way to make it work,” Matt assured you.
Your breath gradually began to even out as Matt’s other hand slid across his lap and appeared in your line of sight. His fingers wrapped around one of your fidgeting hands, entangling them together and stopping the nervous habit. The corner of your lip twitched as you sat beside him in the dark, your engagement ring still managing to sparkle in the dim light.
“You’re good at this,” you said softly.
“Hmm?” he hummed.
“Calming me down,” you answered, watching his thumb gingerly brush against your knuckles. “Quieting my brain.”
“Good,” he stated, a hint of pride in his voice. “Now tell me about the venues you’ve been secretly researching.”
“I was thinking we could write our own vows,” you hesitantly suggested. “And maybe exchange them before the ceremony?”
Sitting comfortably wedged between Matt’s thighs on the floor of the elevator, your head was tipped back and resting against his shoulder. According to your phone the last time you’d checked it, you’d both been stuck in the elevator for the past almost two hours, but you’d been so absorbed in conversation and wedding planning that you’d stopped panicking and found yourself enjoying the unexpected time together.
Despite both of your clothes still being soaked from the earlier downpour, Matt had found a way to keep you warm wrapped up in his arms. Your fingers absently played with both of his hands where he’d rested them on your lap, your nails lightly skimming over his palms or gently massing each of his fingers. The little pleased rumbling noises in his chest which kept vibrating against your back only encouraged you to keep doing it.
“How would that work?” Matt questioned. “Don’t we exchange vows during the ceremony?”
“Yeah, but those could be the typical ones everyone does,” you explained, your thumbs pressing into the pads of his palms. “I was thinking we could write our own personal ones, almost like a letter to each other? We could exchange them before the ceremony in something more private and personal that was just for us. I remember Marci saying that she barely saw Fog throughout the whole wedding day with how they were constantly being pulled around.”
You shrugged a shoulder, still massaging his hands by the eerie white light overhead. With how you were leaning back against Matt, you could feel each of his warm exhales gently rolling past his lips and grazing the side of your cheek. You were grateful that if you had to be stuck in an elevator, at least gotten stuck in it with him.
“I figured we could do a sort of ‘first look’,” you continued. “Exchange our vows and get a moment together before the wedding. I could try to describe my dress to you, and maybe you could use your senses to try to visualize it. I mean, if you want. I remember you wanting to know how I looked at Fog and Marci’s wedding, and I just assumed that maybe you would want to–”
“Yes,” Matt cut in, interrupting you before you could finish. “I–I like that idea, sweetheart.”
The emotion was thick in his voice when he’d spoken, your hands stilling against his when you’d caught it. But just as you’d been about to respond, there was a soft whirring noise that filled the elevator. Seconds later, the lights flicked back on overhead, and you squinted at the brightness temporarily blinding you after sitting so long in the dark. A loud, metallic creaking noise sounded just before the elevator lurched upwards, but then it began to continue its ascent up to the sixth floor as if the past two hours had never happened.
“It appears the power is back on,” you pointed out.
As the elevator continued smoothly rising to the top floor, you pushed yourself up from between Matt’s legs before turning around. Extending a hand down towards Matt, he grabbed onto it and let you help him back onto his feet. Without his body wrapped around yours anymore, a chill ran through you in your still wet clothes, but at least it wouldn’t be much longer before you could get changed out of them now.
“See?” Matt said, readjusting the damp, gray shirt clinging to his chest. “We were just fine in here. And no one even needed to urinate on the floor.”
Pausing mid-readjustment of the bottom of your damp dress, you glanced sidelong at Matt beside you. At the teasing grin he shot you, you rolled your eyes and threw a hand out towards him, lightly smacking his arm. An amused chuckle met your playful reprimand, and you felt your cheeks beginning to heat. The fears you’d had earlier truthfully did seem a little absurd now that you were looking back on them.
“The jokes still aren’t helping, Murdock,” you replied.
His hand darted out fast, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as the grin on his face grew wider. He lightly tugged you backwards and into him just as the doors to the elevator opened, your back pressing into his chest. Dipping his head, his mouth hovered beside your ear, and his soft lips brushed against the shell of it when he spoke.
“Then maybe I’ll find something else to help when we get out of these wet clothes,” he whispered.