Snowflakes blanketed the streets of New York, the first fall of snow illuminated by the twinkling lights of the city that never slept. It was impossible to walk down a single street without hearing the faint tinkling of a festive tune, if it wasn't a child singing Jingle Bells it was the dulcet tones of Mariah Carey. If it had put her teeth on edge, Amera wondered what it must be like for Matt Murdock.
Out of all the eight million people who called New York City home, the chances of running into him had to be tiny and even so, there he was, at the other end of the bar of yet another Christmas party she had found herself at. Even after a couple of years, he still managed to make her heart skip a beat, her breath catching in her throat as he threw his head back and laughed heartily at something Foggy had said. The sight made her heart ache uncomfortably, the two years of distance between them both doing nothing to water down her feelings for him.
Time had favoured Matt, his features still as handsome as the day she had met him. A light smattering of stubble dotted his jaw, and although his eyes remained shielded behind his wine coloured glasses, he knew they were still that warm shade of brown, like melted chocolate. His unblinking gaze was fixed into the distance somewhere. Most people were unnerved by it, speaking to a man who seldom looked their way but she had always found comfort in it. Perhaps because it was because he had never needed his eyesight to see the real her.
As if he could sense her presence, Matt jerked up, his head turning slowly as he tried to locate the spot she was spying on him from. Without fail, he sought her out instantly, the smile falling from his face briefly as he made his way over. Her heart thudded erratically with every step that brought him closer as her brain hurried to find the right words. What were you supposed to say to your ex after two years?
The day that Amera Preston had waltzed into his life was forever seared into Matt's memory. A vision so strong he could practically see it unfolding before him as he made his way across the bar, his cane tapping out his path in spite of how perfectly he could have managed without it.
The crisp Autumn air floated through the open window in the office, the hustle and bustle of New York City trickling through. Matt did his best to tune it out as he studied yet another pro bono case that lay on his desk. With Wilson Fisk locked behind bars, he had hoped business would pick up and arguably, it had, but there was still a long path to success. He'd heard the rap of knuckles on the front door and Karen's footsteps, before a new, distinctly feminine voice had filtered through, his ears pricking up instantly.
Head cocked to one side, Matt attempted to deduce who was about to come bursting through his office door. He detected the click of heels, a pair higher than the ones Karen favoured, the steady footsteps telling him the wearer was a woman on a mission. No sooner had the door creaked open and Karen poked her head through, he detected the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, enveloping him in a sweet cocoon that would set his nerves alight for years to come.
"Miss. Amera Preston would like to see you." announced Karen, the confusion evident in her tone.
"Please send her in." nodded Matt, covering his notes over. "Thank you, Karen."
Matt Murdock was not exactly as Amera had imagined. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't the man sitting before her, with a mop of mussed brown hair and wine coloured glasses, a shapely jawline just visible between the five o'clock shadow dusting his cheeks. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if he could feel her eyes raking over him, and she cleared her throat.
"Hello, Mr. Murdock. I'm Amera Preston."
"Please, call me Matt."
Amera shook his proffered hand, feeling the calluses that littered his palms, odd bumps lining his soft fingers. He still wore a smile, and she drew her hand back as he smoothed down his tie.
"How can I help you, Miss. Preston?"
"I want a job."
Matt laughed shortly, willing to bet that she had crossed her arms in a very unamused fashion if her affronted silence was anything to go by. Laughter dying away, he gestured around the humble offices of Nelson and Murdock.
"In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly in a position to be hiring."
"I don't want your money. I don't care if you pay me or not."
That caught Matt's attention. He sat up a little straighter, giving the air of studying her.
"What do you want, Miss. Preston?"
"Experience."
"I think you would be better off at Landman and Zack." Matt suggested, earning himself a scoff.
"You mean like my peers?" she retorted, arms folding tighter. "With all due respect, I know you started your career there, but I have no intention of doing the same."
"And why's that?" he asked humorously.
"I don't want to compete for a measly case for which I'll only end up making photocopies for while a Landman and Zack partner comments on the length of my skirt."
"Well, needless to say you wouldn't get such comments from me." he remarked dryly, but she simply rolled her eyes at his attempt at a joke.
"I don't care how good it will look on my resume, defending wealthy, misogynistic bankers is not the kind of lawyer I want to be."
"What kind of lawyer do you want to be, Miss. Preston?"
"The kind that makes a difference."
Amera left Matt with very little choice but to hire her on the spot, her ambition and honesty impressing him beyond measure. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He hoped he hadn't encountered her as the Devil. He wasn't as naive to believe she was pure, everyone had their secrets, but it was the thought of her in danger that unsettled him.
Matt was quick to learn she was full of surprises, finding her waiting outside the locked office at half past seven the following morning. He could smell the cup of coffee in her hand, no, correction, two cups of coffee, and she held one out to him, noticing the subtle rise of his nose.
"You're here early." he commented, unlocking the door with disguised ease. "And with coffee."
"I did my homework." she replied, the grin evident in her tone.
"You mean you stalked me?" he joked, sliding into his chair.
"I prefer the term, investigative research."
"Spoken like a true lawyer."
"A compliment before coffee." she laughed. "I'm going to enjoy working here."
"About that," smiled Matt sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. "I should have conducted a more professional interview."
"I did spring it on you."
"You did. But, I don't know a thing about you. Where you went to school, if you have experience…"
"Hm, I hope you research your cases better than this." she teased.
Amera perched on the end of Matt's desk, her legs stretched out mere inches from his. Although Matt knew she wasn't being deliberately provocative, he couldn't help the heat the rose under his collar, smoothing his tie down to give his hands something to do.
"So, Miss. Preston, where did you get your law degree?"
"I didn't. I'm still studying."
Matt felt a lump grow in his throat, suddenly feeling sick. She was still at university. Which meant…
"I took a few years out to help in the family business." she clarified. "I'm in my final year now, but it's another reason I don't want to go Landman and Zack. They're not going to give a 'mature student' a chance."
Matt's fears quelled instantly, relieved at her revelation. He still chided himself, for overlooking something so significant. If she had indeed been so young, he would have had to give himself the same beating he gave Wilson Fisk. It impressed him however, how well she carried herself. She was evidently intelligent and must be serious about the legal world to be pursuing it at an age most people would throw in the towel.
"Why are you pursuing law? Why not continue with business?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"Business doesn't motivate me." she answered simply. "It's a lot of pressure, the kind of pressure I don't want or need."
"And your family is supportive of your decision?"
Amera barked with laughter, the bitterness loud and clear, making Matt fret that he had unwittingly opened a can of worms.
"Do I seem like the kind of woman who does as she's told?"
No argument there, thought Matt as she disappeared back out into the main office upon hearing Karen's voice. Matt deciphered Foggy's voice too, his best friend entering his office and shutting the door behind him.
"Alright, Murdock. Spill it."
"What?"
"What the hell is Harry Preston's daughter doing interning here?"
Foggy's voice was full of unbridled wonder and amusement, and Matt could tell he was holding back a few choice comments.
"Harry Preston." he echoed thoughtfully. "That's why I thought she was familiar."
Harry Preston was a wealthy entrepreneur who had started his career as a banker. Having worked his way up the ladder, both social and financial, he now boasted millions and most likely, half of the city. And now his very smart, very attractive daughter was Matt Murdock's intern.
"You mean you didn't know who she was when you hired her?"
"No."
Foggy sighed and rubbed his temples wearily, shooting Matt a pained but amused smile.
"Your judgement goes to shit when it comes to beautiful women, you know that?"
"How would I even know she's beautiful?"
"I have no idea." replied Foggy with a shrug. "It's kinda spooky how you always do, though."
"Must be a gift."
"For you!" laughed Foggy. "There'll be consequences, man, and I'm gonna be the one that suffers!"
Amera ambition and honesty had truly fascinated him, but it was to be her compassionate demeanour that would ensnare his heart eventually. He didn't doubt that she was still the strong-willed but kind woman he had grown to love all those years ago, and that was what quelled his hesitation of approaching her.
"Hi, Amera." said Matt cordially.
"Hi, Matt." she breathed back.
"It's nice to see you." he said shortly, the pair smiling simultaneously at his words. "Well, maybe not see you…"
"It's nice to see you too." she giggled. "You look well."
"Thank you. I'm sure you do too."
There was a pause, the former lovers wondering what conversation was safe territory. The opportunity was snatched from Amera's hands when an arm wound its way around her waist, revealing the one bit of news that most likely hadn't reached his ears yet.
"There you are, sweetheart."
Matt stiffened visibly at the words as a soft kiss was pressed to her forehead. A master at concealing his true emotions, Matt was careful not to let anything but a smile show on his face but she knew him all too well. That smile was anything but sincere.
"Honey," she said softly. "This is Matt. Matt, this is… my fiancé."
Even as she introduced the two men to one another, her own words pierced her heart like a sharp shard of ice, the cold seeping through her body.
"Right, your old boss." said the fiancé, shaking Matt's hand. "Nice to meet you, man."
"Likewise."
Amera's fiancé was oblivious to the tension he had invoked, blissfully unaware of the real history between her and Matt. Striking up a conversation with her ex, he chatted away in his friendly fashion as unspoken words passed between Amera and Matt. It was clear he hadn't taken the news of her engagement well and it made her heart break in two all over again, the barely healed wounds reopening only to cut deeper as she tried to remind herself why she had ended the relationship in the first place.
Lightning flashed across the inky black sky, briefly brightening the apartment. Thunder cracked incessantly, but Amera stood frozen to the spot in front of the windows, staring out at the flashing billboard on the other side of the glass. She had been greatly amused the first time Matt brought her back to his, cheekily citing that the obnoxious advertisement meant he had been able to rent the apartment at a cheaper price. It never bothered her either, it was almost art, the way the bright colours would light up Matt's face every time they lay on his couch caressing one another. Pink rays falling across his face as his lips assaulted hers, blue shards of light as his hands stroked her skin, yellow beams as his heart thudded against her own.
It was nearing five o'clock in the morning when she heard the creak of the stairs, signalling Matt's return.
Her presence was unexpected. She had, after all, told him she would be visiting her parents and wouldn't be back for another two days at the very least. As he tried to retreat stealthily, she spoke out, rooting him to the spot.
"Walk into another lamppost, did you?"
There was no distinguishable emotion attached to Amera's words, nothing that even Matt Murdock's sharp ears could decipher, and that frightened him more than he cared to admit. In all honesty, he didn't have a sufficient answer, only the courtesy to bow his head.
She dared to turn around, wincing when she saw his split lip and the bruises that had already begun to blossom across his cheeks. The front of his black jersey looked wet, the blood seeping through and he continued to act as if it didn't bother him. Silently, and with a certain reservation, she walked to him slowly, a hand delicately brushing the crusted blood. Slipping her small hand into his much larger one, she tugged gently and he let her lead the way to the bathroom, where she shed them both of their clothes and switched the shower on, steam rising as she took each and every one of his scrapes, cuts and bruises.
"Amera," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."
"No you're not." she retorted, although not unkindly. "You're only sorry I found out this way."
"I didn't tell you because I knew you would worry." he argued.
"I'm not worried."
Matt had never been more terrified in his life. Her heart rate beat steadily, scarily so. An indication that she truly wasn't worried. There were no discernible signs of anger, hurt or otherwise and he would have preferred her screaming and throwing her fists at him instead of her calculated silence that reeked of a firm decision.
"How did you know?"
The question was blurted out in one breath, Matt unable to resist understanding how Amera had learned the knowledge of his nightly activities. She was a smart woman, possibly the smartest woman he had ever met, but he had been careful to cover his tracks. Well, maybe not as careful as he thought.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" she asked, her tone daring him to defy her. "Was I supposed to fall for every pathetic excuse you fed me about your clumsiness? Did your super senses not give away that I was awake every time you snuck out in the middle of the night?"
"Most women would assume I was cheating on them." he said lightheartedly, wincing when her nails dug into his chest.
"I'm not most women."
There was a pregnant pause, both of them dreading what was to follow.
"Matt, I can't do this."
Amera was sure she had heard not only her heart break, but Matt's too, sorrow filling his unseeing eyes. He made no effort to reason with her, it was as if he knew this moment would arrive sooner or later. Truthfully, she knew he was passing it off as his own selfish reasons about not wanting to put her in harm's way.
"You're not going to ask me to stop… this?"
"No. Not even if I wanted to."
"Why?"
"You care," she replied, her fingers dancing through the stubble on his jaw. "You care so much about the people of Hell's Kitchen and I love you so much for it."
"I love you too." he whispered back, drawing her closer.
"You're a good man, Matt. Maybe the only good man left in this damned city. You have your reasons for doing this and I won't be the one to stand in your way. I'm sure that one day, this city won't need Daredevil. But I'm also sure that you won't stop needing Daredevil. And I can't ask you to give that up, not for me. But I won't stand by and watch you give your life for a city that's so inherently evil. I won't bury you, Matt, I won't."
Silence engulfed them, the water piercing the air as Amera leant her head on his chest, wishing for tears that wouldn't fall. Matt's eyes darted around the small shower, his heart thumping so erratically he thought it might burst out of his ribs as the harsh reality dawned on him.
"Matt?"
He hummed in response, words failing him, even her name was now a struggle.
"Can… can I kiss you one last time?"
Matt didn't have the heart to deny her, he never did. He needed it one more time. He let her press her lips to his, his hands tenderly cupping her face as she relaxed against him, holding him like she never wanted to let go. They stayed that way for what felt like forever, until she untangled herself from his arms and gave him one final look. As she made to leave, he caught her wrist.
Chest heaving with the laboured effort of breathing, Matt's eyes stared in her general direction. He wanted to say something, anything, but he didn't know what could make the situation any better and it was with the heaviest of hearts that he let her go.
"Goodbye, Matt."
The conversation flitted through Amera's memory as her fiancé offered to go call a cab and she idly wondered if Matt was reminiscing just as she was. How many times had she laid awake at night wondering where Matt was and if he was still alive? How many mornings had she spent checking the papers, praying that there was another story of Daredevil's latest antics and not a police report announcing his death?
"Well, good night, Matt." she said softly, taking a hesitant step back.
"Good night, Amera." he echoed, nodding his head. "I'm glad you were here."
Amera's fiancé could tell something had changed, her smile no longer reached her eyes and the champagne buzz had long gone. She insisted you were simply tired, joking that she was getting old and the way he fell for her lies easily was just another reminder that he wasn't Matt, the man with blank eyes who could read her like an open book.
Guilt washed over Amera in suffocating waves as her fiancé dozed off beside her, her thoughts drifting to the many times she had curled up beside Matt. It was now more than ever that she craved him, craved his husky voice that lulled her to sleep and the way she felt safe encased in his strong arms. It was so wrong, sickeningly wrong the way she could focus on only one man when another cherished her so. She knew she shouldn't be replaying old memories, but seeing Matt tonight, it resurfaced everything she had repressed, from their first moment together to their last.
Amera had had a fairly quiet weekend in comparison to Karen. For once, it was the blonde who eagerly shared stories over their Monday morning coffee, but it didn't escape Amera's attention that Matt was leaning on the doorframe, a calm smile on his features as the two women chatted away like good friends.
"Morning, Matt."
Amera was the first to acknowledge his presence, and his smile widened at the sound of her voice. It was melodious and soft, a sound that brought him back to earth and made him feel like Matt Murdock was just as worthy as the Devil.
"Amera, Karen." he greeted in response. "How was your weekend?"
Amera gnawed at her bottom lip as Karen recounted her eventful days off. She zoned out as she eyed Matt, her skin heating over as she tried desperately to prevent her thoughts racing away from her. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she had begun to see him as more than her boss, but she was in too deep now, every waking thought and every dream consumed by him. Between his devilishly handsome looks and his witty sense of humour, she wondered how she hadn't fallen for him sooner.
Matt's voice shattered her bubble, inviting her into his office as he looked over the essay she had asked him to. She had promised him her homemade gingerbread cookies as a thank you, and he had easily sniffed them out already. Karen announced that she was meeting Foggy at the courthouse for some case or the other, leaving Amera and Matt alone in the office.
"I hope I didn't ruin your weekend with my essay." she apologised, following after him.
"Not at all." he reassured, leaning his cane against his desk.
"Are you sure? Your girlfriend's not going to come after me for taking up your time?"
Amera cursed herself silently, desperately hoping he hadn't noticed the jealousy laced in her words. If he had, he didn't show it, instead offering a blank expression in her direction.
"Girlfriend?"
"Lawyers are a total catch, aren't they? A handsome guy like you…"
Matt couldn't hold back his grin. She thought he was handsome? Sure, she had flirted with him before, but they had been several beers in at Josie's.
"You think I'm handsome?"
The words escaped his mouth before he could stop himself, and he could feel the heat radiating from her as a blush dusted her cheeks.
"I could say anything and you wouldn't know any different." she countered, albeit playfully and he had to chuckle.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Just, thank you." he shrugged. "Most people worry about upsetting me, but not you. It's nice to feel normal around you, like my blindness isn't a disability."
"Disability my ass." she giggled, his heart skipping a beat. "You're a charmer, Matt Murdock, blind or not."
"You're not so bad yourself, Amera Preston."
"Not so bad? I'm the best."
Matt could feel her dangerously close to him, that familiar scent of jasmine and sandalwood spiking his arousal as he felt her breath fan over him. Her breaths came out as shallow pants, and he could hear heart racing at a million miles an hour. His hands twitched at his sides as she dared to step closer still, her high heels putting them at almost the same height. He considered backing away, it was the responsible thing to after all, but he couldn't, caught in a strange suspense as he tried to decipher what move she was going to make next.
Amera wanted to kiss Matt. And she wanted him to kiss her back. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and pull her against his chest. She wanted him to devour her, consume her and ruin her for all other men. It was desperate and she hated how badly she craved his skin on hers, he was her boss and she shouldn't even be entertaining the idea but she couldn't pull away from him.
Amera's eyes flickered down to Matt's mouth, those pink lips she had memorised and fantasised about countless times. Desire rising unbearably, she swallowed when she heard his sharp intake of breath, his warm brown eyes almost black with his own desire. Time seemed to stop for a second, before a groan resounded in his throat and he closed the gap between them with a kiss that over almost as soon as it had started.
Matt drew back, pressing his forehead to hers as he battled with himself over the consequences. He could feel her hands on him, her palms pressed to his chest and her hips against his. She gave no indication of moving away, humming softly when his hand cupped her cheek, his thumb gliding along her jawline before he leant down and kissed her once more. He was gentler this time, almost sensual in the way he moved his lips against hers, slowly parting her lips so his tongue could slip past them. Her quiet moan deepened his desire and with great reluctance, he ended it before it could go any further, making her whine in disappointment.
Matt chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Would it be completely inappropriate of me to ask my intern out to dinner?"
"Probably." she said with a smirk. "Would it be completely inappropriate of me to say 'yes, sir'?"
Matt groaned and her smirk widened. Amera certainly hadn't expected that, but God, was it hot. Making a mental note of it, she hummed happily and smoothed out the creases that had formed in his shirt, enjoying the hard muscle hidden beneath cheap polyblend.
"I have something I need to do tonight," he said, fingers drawing lazy circles on her waist. "But tomorrow night?"
"My class finishes at six."
Amera could barely concentrate, instead staring at the clock above the whiteboard as she counted down the minutes until the date. Neither of them had called it that, but she had taken great in getting ready that morning and judging by the butterflies in her tummy, it sure felt like a date. By the time six o'clock rolled around, she had to hold herself back from running out the lecture hall and into Matt's arms. Taking her time as not to look too eager, she slowly made her way to where they had agreed to meet in the courtyard.
Matt was waiting patiently in the courtyard, sitting on a bench with his cane clutched between his hands. He'd removed his tie and undone a couple of buttons on his shirt. Amera giggled as he tried to smooth down his hair, but as usual, it refused to cooperate and remained as mussed as it had ever been. A smile erupted on his face when she approached, standing up to greet her with a chaste kiss on the cheek.
"Hi." she said a little breathlessly, feeling her skin flush where his lips had been.
"Hi." he echoed, smiling wider. "You sound out of breath, are you okay?"
"Well, when you look this handsome can you blame me?"
This time a flush crept up Matt's cheek, as he bowed his head, a few chuckles escaping his big grin. Amera giggled and hooked her arm through his proffered one, resting her hand in the crook of his elbow as the left the university grounds together.
"So, dinner." said Matt, and she nodded even though he couldn't see it. "I thought you might like to go to Awadh. It's a nice restaurant on Broadway."
"Taking the South Asian girl to a South Asian restaurant?" she teased and Matt froze in his tracks.
"I'm sorry." he blurted, red in the face. "I didn't mean to offend- "
"Relax, Matt." giggled Amera, giving his arm a squeeze. "I'm kidding."
Then, leaning in closer, she whispered in his ear conspiratorially.
"But taking a Pakistani to an Indian restaurant is a bold political move."
Luckily, Matt knew she was really winding him up this time, but he apologised all the same, insisting he was simply going by some recommendations he had found online. Amera politely declined; Awadh was a fancy place, the kind that was stifling and uncomfortable, full of nosy eyes and gossipy wealth mongers.
"I want a burger." she stated.
"A burger?" repeated Matt sceptically.
"And cheese fries." she confirmed, tugging at his elbow. "Come on, I know a great place."
Thirty minutes later, the pair were seated in a booth awaiting their burgers, fries and milkshakes. Matt had been pleasantly surprised when Amera slid into the booth beside him rather than opposite him. She not so subtly leant her leg against his, her knee brushing him every time she shifted. It took every ounce of his self-control to keep his hands above the table, a feat she noticed with a huge smirk.
"I can hear the cogs in your brain, Matt." she said knowingly. "What are you thinking about?"
"You." he replied with a smirk of his own, knowing it would make her cheeks flush pink. "I was thinking about how lucky I am to be having dinner with such a beautiful woman."
"And how would you know I'm beautiful?"
"I don't need to see you to know that you're beautiful." he replied earnestly, hand sliding over hers. "But, if you don't mind me asking, what are you wearing?"
Amera feigned an exaggerated gasp.
"Matthew Murdock! Dirty talk before our food even arrives?"
Matt laughed, shaking his head so his brown hair bounced.
"I meant a description." he clarified. "Not like that. Unless you want to tell me."
"Well," began Amera, lifting his hand to the collar of her shirt. "I'm wearing a white silk shirt."
She dragged his fingers a little lower, until they came into contact with the material of her sweater.
"A tan coloured cashmere sweater."
Her fingers went lower still, his following with no resistance as they met with the hem of her skirt that sat halfway down her thighs.
"A black leather skirt and black ankle boots with heels."
The hard line of Matt's jaw was clenched tightly, the slight twitch of a muscle in his cheek making an appearance as he let his hands linger, his fingers barely brushing the bare skin of her thighs. He was intoxicated by her, and not the least bit embarrassed about it either, sensing the raised eyebrows of the waiter who delivered their food. Amera took the opportunity to lean closer, her lips mere millimetres from his ear.
"Oh," she added, as if it was an afterthought. "And I'm wearing a black bra and matching panties. They're silk and lace."
Matt's expression was priceless and she took a sip of her peanut butter milkshake.
"Still think I'm beautiful?" She grinned.
"No. Now I think you're beautiful and dangerous."
Amera threw her head back and laughed appreciatively, kissing his cheek before turning to her burger. Her heart was beating erratically, not quite believing herself. That was bold, even for her, but one look at Matt told her he was just as hot and bothered as she was and that was all the encouragement she needed to continue flirting with him.
They took a walk after dinner, her arm curled around his once more as she pressed close to him up the street to her building. There was an obvious hesitation as they stood on the steps, Amera's hand still firmly encased in Matt's, the tension steadily rising once more. She wondered if he craved her just as desperately, and taking the bold step once more, she grinned coyly.
"Would it be inappropriate of me to ask my boss to if he wanted to come up?"
"Probably. Would it be inappropriate of me to say I would very much like to come up to my intern."
"Probably."
No sooner had the front door closed, that Matt had Amera pressed against it, crashing his lips down on hers in a bruising kiss that made her gasp into his mouth. She scrabbled at him, fingers roaming his shoulders and clutching the hair on his nape in her desperation to touch any part of him that she could find. His brain was working overtime, warning him that it was not too late, he could walk out the door and leave her life untarnished but it was hard when she was kissing him so fervently, as if her very life depended on it. And then, she tugged his lower lip between her teeth, sucking gently and he groaned, drawing back and inhaling, only just realising that he had been holding his breath the entire time.
Amera ached for Matt, ached for the feeling of his skin on hers. All she could think about was him, the way his muscles felt under her touch and his woody scent that enveloped her in arousal. Waiting for him was unbearable. Taking matter into her own hands, quite literally, she led him through her small apartment and to her room, where she pushed him down on to the bed and straddled him before claiming his lips in a searing kiss.
Matt hissed as she grazed over the growing hardness in his pants, planting a trail of hot kisses down his neck. His fingers dug into her hips incessantly, grinding her against him and making them both moan aloud. Her dark hair fell over his face, the soft locks tickling. He brushed them back behind her ears and she giggled breathlessly, sweeping it over one shoulder. He loved the way her lips felt hot and urgent, and he committed it to his memory, her sweet scent, her sinful little moans, the way her curves moulded perfectly to his palms.
Matt lying beneath her was even better than Amera had imagined. Her fingers made deft work of his buttons, delving straight for the lean muscles hidden beneath. A strained huff passed his lips at her touch, her fingertips tracing the defined lines of his torso. They ghosted over the scars that littered his chest, and he sensed her question before she spoke it, but unwilling to break the magic, he flipped them over before she could say a word.
Amera squeaked as her back hit the bed, Matt's weight welcome as he hovered over her, the feel of him hot and heavy between her legs. They had barely done anything, and already she was going crazy, consumed by him as he connected their lips once more. Past the point of caring, she struggled out of her jumper and shirt, Matt sliding her skirt off with ease.
His lips trailed down her neck, seeking out that one spot that had her shuddering beneath him, fingers clawing at his shoulders and leaving angry red tracks in their wake. There was little concern for being romantic, there would be plenty of time for that later. Right now, Matt lacked any kind of delicate nature in his ministrations, not that Amera wanted it. It was undoubtedly the hottest thing she'd ever experienced, the raw pleasure in his eyes, the tickle of his stubble rubbing the soft skin of her neck, the dance of his fingers across her bra.
"You weren't lying about the silk and lace." he chuckled in amusement, voice husky and low.
Amera opened her mouth to reply sassily, but her words came out as an incoherent moan when Matt's fingers slipped beneath and stroked her breasts, her back arching into his touch. He made to undo the clasp and she whined at the loss of his touch, making him chuckle again, before he replaced his fingers with his mouth, a throaty groan resounding in his throat. He'd been imagining this for so long, but it was so much better than any fantasy he'd been able to conjure up and he told her as much.
She'd imagined it too, but nothing could have ever prepared her for Matt sliding down her body, leaving open mouthed kisses until he reached her underwear. In one swift motion, she was lying bare before him, goosebumps erupting along her skin as his hands roamed over her. Technically, he couldn't see her, but that didn't stop her blushing, nor the feeling of intimacy between them.
"Matt?" she whispered, face aflame as he remained silent.
"You're beautiful."
It was as if someone had pressed a switch, Matt letting out an animalistic growl before slamming his lips back on hers, her fingers diving between them to unbuckle his belt. He was driving her out of her mind with desire, every sensation felt intensified even when he was doing something as simple as running his hands up and down her arms, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. Slowly, languidly, but not any less passionately, he circled his fingers back up to her collarbone, mouth still ravishing hers.
"Matt!"
"Ssh," he whispered. "Just relax."
Every inch of her skin was hot under him, mindless pleas urging his mouth lower until she was gasping out his name and fisting the bedsheets to the point she thought they would tear. He moaned against her, the vibration making her writhe as she tugged at his hair. She certainly would have never guessed that Matt 'Good Catholic Boy' Murdock would have been so skilled with his tongue, but she supposed it was true what they said, it was always the quiet ones.
Neither Matt nor Amera would ever forget that moment. It was electric and primitive and mind-blowingly overwhelming. Matt had her hands pinned above her head, his fingers entwined with hers as his hips slammed into her with a bruising pace that had his name falling from her lips like an intactation. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her heels digging into his tailbone and spurring him on until they both lay there spent in each other's arms.
Matt told himself he should have left. But he stayed anyway, arms tightly wound around Amera, her head on his chest. It was to be the one real night together they would ever have.
Matt was a broken record playing on repeat, stuck in Amera's heart and head forever. She was stubborn enough to stand by her reasons and yet, she'd give anything to do it all again. To him, she was unfinished business he had pushed aside, forcing himself to believe she had left him in the past and he should reciprocate. Tonight had been no different, she had walked in and right back out again. He was no fool, he knew of the turmoil that brewed within her just as it ate away at his insides too. The party had been long forgotten, his festive spirit dying away in place of a hollow emptiness. Ordering another drink, he battled with himself.
In theory, they shouldn't work, they shouldn't have even tried. Simply put, Matt and Amera were two different people who came from two different worlds. Of course, it was a conversation that had been inevitable, and yet they'd dutifully ignored the warning signs, hell bent on defying the odds together. At least, that was what Matt told himself. It was better than accepting that they could have made it work, that they had made it work.
The rhythmic pounding of drums. The delicious scent of samosas. The jingle-jangle of bracelets. The softness of silk. Amera knew Matt was doing his best. She'd told him how Pakistani weddings went. The food, the colours, the three day long affair (at a minimum). Her best friend Razia was getting married and of course, Matt was Amera's plus one. They were six months into their, albeit normally private, relationship and she had been incredibly nervous asking if he would attend the marital festivities with her. Hesitant at first, he had accepted when he heard the anxious pounding of her heart, knowing she anticipated a polite decline. He had surprised them both with a happy acceptance.
"Remind me what this party is again?" murmured Matt, biting into a samosa.
"It's called the mendhi." answered Amera, the word slightly accented as she pronounced it. "The bride has henna applied in intricate patterns to her hands and feet."
"Here, let him feel it." piped Razia, offering her arms out. "It's dried now, but just be gentle."
Amera took Matt's hand, separating the index finger and in the most featherlight fashion, she traced it over the traditional paisleys, peacocks and flowers over the bride's palms. It had dried to a flaky texture, the eucalyptus particularly pungent but he had been told that when it was washed off the following morning, it would leave a deep reddish brown stain. Matt allowed himself to feel every line, his smile growing as he learned more about Amera's culture.
"And someone painted all this on?" he asked in wonder. "It's beautiful."
"Except now she's incapacitated." giggled Amera with a roll of her kohl-rimmed eyes.
"And my beloved best friend has to feed me." Razia giggled back. "Have you tried any of the burfi, Matt?"
"I'm sorry, the what?" puzzled Matt.
"Here, open your mouth." smiled Amera.
Still as puzzled as ever, he let her feed him whatever it was. It tasted sugary, like sweetened milk and mango, soft but supple. As it turned out, that was exactly what it was, and he had blushed when one of Razia's younger sisters said she'd snapped a photo of it all.
"You're next!" she cried gleefully, running off.
Amera blushed a furious shade of crimson, ducking behind her long hair as Razia all but cackled. Matt simply smiled, saying nothing as he wondered if they would ever even make it that far. The harsh reality was a man like him would never have the white picket fence, a minivan or cats and dogs. He had made his peace with it a long time ago, intent on living his life the way he did. He had no idea if Amera wanted any of those things, or if she wanted those things with him. They'd never really talked about the future, both just as scared to bring it up as the other. But, there was no avoiding it now.
"Thank you for inviting me into your culture." said Matt softly, reaching out for Amera's hand. "Everyone's been so welcoming and friendly."
"What did you think they were going to be like?" she joked, squeezing his hand.
"I don't know." he shrugged, with that soft, floppy smile that made her melt. "I'm Catholic. And you're, well, not."
"I'm not exactly the most devout at my religion, or culture for that matter."
Amera paused.
"Does it bother you? That I'm not Catholic?"
"Would I be here if it did?"
"I know." she said hurriedly, busying herself with a cup of Kashmiri tea. "I just know that your faith is important to you."
"My faith hasn't taught me to hate anyone." he said gently, almost reassuringly. "I mean, I don't think it's taught me to fall in love with a beautifully intelligent half-American, half-Pakistani woman either."
Amera froze, as did Razia who had been shamelessly eavesdropping. Matt heard the skip of Amera's heart, realising too late the impact of what he had just said.
"Y-you love me?"
Matt sighed and readjusted his glasses.
"I'm sorry." he apologised with a wince. "It slipped it out. I was going to tell you, just not like that."
Visibly uncomfortable with his admission and under the illusion she didn't reciprocate the sentiment, he opened his mouth to change the subject but Amera cut across.
"I love you too."
Perhaps surprisingly, but Father Lantom had been overjoyed by Matt's not-so-secret confession the following week. In fact, he had been rather gobsmacked that Matt Murdock had finally found a woman of unquestionable character. A woman who was smart and kind, who overlooked his flaws and made him think that even just for a minute, Matt Murdock was worthier than the Devil. That he was more deserving of love than he had ever imagined.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Foggy's voice broke Matt's trance, his head tilting up in the direction of his best friend's voice. There was a gentleness to the blonde's words, an understanding of some kind. Both Karen and Foggy had been relieved and surprised in equal measure when they had discovered of Matt and Amera's relationship. It had been an accident really, Matt had unthinkingly pressed a kiss to Amera's cheek on his way out of the office one day. Karen had stared slack-jawed, Foggy yelling a triumphant "I knew it!"
"If I had known she was here…"
"It's alright, Foggy." reassured Matt, swilling his drink around in his glass. "I'm alright, really."
"You sure? You don't look alright. You look like you're about to punch someone's face in, without the mask."
Matt chuckled darkly, polishing off the last few drops of his scotch and clapping a hand to his friend's shoulder. He appreciated that Foggy always looked out for him, but he didn't want to be coddled, not right now. Reassuring Foggy once more, he stepped out into the cold night, opting to walk home in an attempt to clear his head. It was futile in the end, memories of Amera breaking his heart in two all over again. Her laugh filled his ears as his fingers yearned to run through her silky hair. He wondered if she would still taste like gingerbread lattes and bubblemint if he kissed her again.
It was a bad idea, one of his worser ones really, but he ignored his screaming head in favour of his aching heart. Perched on the fire escape outside her window, he drowned out the gentle snores of her fiancé, craning his neck to listen out for her soft, slow breathing but instead, he heard the quietest pitter-patter of feet and the click of the window being opened. Wrapped in her dressing gown, she joined him on the fire escape, not bothering with the safe distance they had employed earlier.
Matt held back a sigh when Amera reached out, her hand cupping his jaw and her thumb stroking his stubbled cheek. She was the first to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No horns?"
Matt flashed an appeasing smile.
"They don't represent what I stand for anymore."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"But I am. I know what it meant to you."
"You're the only person I could ever believe saying that."
"I think I'm the only person who would ever say that to you."
"Even though it's what drove you away?"
"It never drove me away." she argued. "I still support you doing this. What I can't support is myself if I'm alone every night, going sick with worry about you. I know that's selfish- "
"No, it's not." he shook his head. "You deserve to be with someone who can be with you every night. Someone whole, who can give you the whole world."
"I never needed the whole world." she whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I only needed Matt Murdock."
Matt smiled sadly, cupping her jaw gently as he pressed as kiss to her cheek.
"You're the only person who could break my heart and fix it, you know?"
"If there's ever a day when you're done with the Devil, look for me, please?"
"If there's ever a day, I'll find my way back to you."