She was real, alright. Very real. And for multiple reasons, that fact should not have come as such a heavy shock to him...but it did. Matt wasn’t someone who was prone to good fortune-- and yeah, maybe a ( cold-blooded? ) killer sticking around wasn’t the most traditional example of ‘good fortune’. She was bad news, at least ninety-nine percent of the time. But he was better with her around, even when they weren’t on the same side. Even in the years of her absence, with so much time he had spent loathing her, resenting her... even then, the world remained a less cold place with Elektra in it. What they had-- the rivalry, the teamwork, the intimacy-- whatever it was, it all defied logic, contradicted every value he’d ever stood by. Yet, in some convoluted, twisted way ( everything was always twisted, with her ) it worked. Or at least, he found himself wanting it to work. Matt didn’t allow himself to want too many things-- so when he did, it said a great deal about his line of thinking. And in her final moments, in their final moments, he’d found himself wanting exactly that: one last fight alongside her, one more day, even an extra hour just to test what they were capable of. For the city, but mostly, for each other.
He could sense the fear that ran rampant in her veins at the sight of him. After all, his own concerns mirrored hers -- there were endless questions to be addressed. Starting with the obvious; how had she escaped death? How had the two of them both managed to find their way here, and what did it mean for them? Not to mention what had transpired in each of their lives in the recent months...but they could discuss all of those things later. Right now, he didn’t want to be the man in the mask anymore. He wanted to be Matthew-- ( her Matthew, though he would never admit that out-loud ). He wanted to calm her, to ease those worries that were stirring within her. To let her know they were okay.
His fingers fell from her face far too soon, clutching his walking stick to avoid fidgeting or else pulling her against his chest right there, out in the open. He was bursting with affection for her, and he would attempt to downplay it for now ( like he always did ) but Elektra knew him better than that. He could only hide from himself, and her, for so long. ❝ It would’ve been nice to know you were still breathing, but... I do understand. ❞ It was so Elektra of her to distance herself again after everything, but it wouldn’t be fair for him to give her a hard time about keeping secrets...he of all people knew what it was like to lay low in order to protect someone.
With Foggy still not speaking to him, and Karen ( rightfully ) disappointed in him, it was refreshing to run into someone who genuinely liked him and ( hopefully? ) wanted to be around him... So instead of lecturing her any further, he nodded in the direction of his apartment. ❝ I was going to make grilled cheese...something tells me dying has the tendency to magnify an appetite... ❞ ( not that hers wasn’t already ravenous enough ). ❝ Hungry? ❞
He wanted her to go with him, even if it was for the best that they continue to distance themselves. He didn’t care about that, not right now. He wanted her to go with him, to talk it all out, to celebrate the notion that she was still alive...to figure out what, if anything, came next.
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