It's almost 2am, the city buzz softer than usual and the air cold. She shivers slightly, pulling her jersey back over her exposed shoulder. She taps the tip of a pencil against her bottom lip, eyes drooping as they dropped from her television to the paper covered in doodles. Her fingers traced the paper, not really paying attention to the movie playing or what she was drawing.
She sighed, dropping the pencil and reaching for the remote. Time for bed. She barely made it halfway off the barstool when a dark mass crashed through her living room window. She screamed, diving behind the counter and covering her head. Glass shattered and the coffee table cracked harshly on impact. She prayed to whoever was listening, covering her ears and eyes as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
The wind howled in the open space, the ruckus now almost silent after a few minutes. She still hears the sounds of life outside but inside she only hears her own hicupping breaths. And then a loud groan amongst shattered glass. Her heart thunders against her chest as she crawls towards the phone, the time now or never. She dashes up towards the dining table, almost diving for her cellphone but she shoves it off the other side in her haste to get it.
She yelps, spinning around to face the scene in her living room with dread settling in her bones. In the middle of her floor- laying amongst glass, dirt and blood,was a young man. Against her better judgement she stepped closer, nudging his leg with her foot. He groaned and she kicked him, receiving another pained groan in response.
"Stop." he croaked.
"What the hell are you doing? I'm calling the cops!" Finally she found her phone and tapped at the screen.
"Don't - they. Can't." his jaw clenched.
The dial tone started, she doesn't know why she's not darting towards the door.
"Please. I can't s-see."
A bloody hand reached for his mask, pulling the black material away from his face.
"I don't believe you! What were you doing?"
"Trying to save someone. That's what I do."
"You some kind of hero?" she snapped.
"Trying to be."
She looked him over again.
"Yeah, well your costume sucks. You look like a criminal."
He gave a lopsided smile, "Black mixes well with the night but you're right. Can you. Help me up?"
"No, I'm not going near you."
"I'll pay for your window, I really am a g-good guy."
He coughs loudly and she can clearly hear the fluid in his throat.
"I will stab you if you try anything."
"You can." he murmured, head falling to the side.
She sunk down on her haunches next to him, hands hovering over his body. Blood seeped through his clothes, visible open wounds all over his face and hands. A large cut above his brow left the blood dripping over his eye and cheek. God, he was in awful shape.
She got up, hurrying to the bathroom to get her medkit and a wet cloth. Her hair hung in her eyes and she pushed it out of her face with the back of her hand, dropping the kit on the couch.
"Hey, you have to get up." She pushed his shoulder timidly.
"I know." he gurled, limbs moving hesitantly.
She helped him as much as she could while he all but dragged himself up and onto her couch. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as she pulled a small stool next to the couch and placed the kit in her lap. She wiped at the blood on his face as softly as she could. He didn't protest, only wincing when the pain got too much. His eyes fluttered open, cast towards her but not looking. They were pretty but an odd colour, mixed with silver that glazed over his irises. Guess he wasn't lying after all.
"How can you do this when you're, you know?"
"Blind? Guess you can say, ow, my other senses are well honed without sight."
"Sorry. But still. Look at you-I mean.."
"It's. Fine." He winced again.
"What's the matter?" she paused her cleaning.
His body started to convulse, spine arching as he coughed and threw his head to the side spluttering out blood.
"Oh my god, not on my carpet." she whined, hands not really knowing what to do or where to go as they hung awkwardly in the air.
He continued coughing and she cussed, fiddling with a packet of cottonpads and a disinfectant bottle until she had a free hand to pat his back. After several minutes he finally settled back onto the couch, face pale where it wasn't bruised.
"Sorry." He rasped.
She stilled, eyes darting to his face.
"It's okay." She murmured.
He gave a soft and bloody smile, the pain stitched into the wrinkles with every muscle he used.
"Look I can clean and bandage them but you're going to need a doctor."
"I'll be fine."
She tugged the hem of his shirt upwards to where the most blood pooled, a nasty gash coming into view.
"I'm not so sure." she clicked her tongue.
Still, she cleaned it with disinfectant and with his helped bandaged his lower abdomen and hip. She had to admit, he was pretty toned beneath all that blood and black clothing. But he was still a stranger.
"There. It's not going to get better than this."
"Thank you, I'll get going now. I'll send someone to fix your window." he got up from the sofa, staggering as he did so.
"W-wait. Hey!" she stumbled onto her feet, "I don't even know your name."
"Matt," he paused at her door, "Matt Murdock. Look me up. But you know, don't tell anyone."
"Okay, Matt, you can't just leave like that." She tried to stop him, grabbing his wrist.
He gave a her a soft smile. "I'll be fine."
"You almost died." Her eyes scanned his body.
He nod his head, bruised hand raising to touch her chin before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
He left through the door, leaving her standing awkwardly in the door way, gawking at the empty space.
"What kind of messed up comic book shit just happened?"