A/N: Hey, everyone. I wanted to attempt a Daredevil fan fiction. This is the first time writing one, so I'd appreciate any feedback you may have
The crisp morning air tickles me awake, the lingering scent of smoke still present in my nostrils. Outside, the city begins to stir into motion, the sounds of doors closing as their residents leave to begin their days. I can hear the farewell kiss of my neighbors in 4B and the solitary shuffle of Mrs Adamson down the hall as she makes her morning coffee.
My fingers brush across the soft cotton of my sheets briefly before I push back what I am sure are stray strands of hair out of my eyes. My hair has a habit of being everywhere at all times. After twenty-seven years of it doing what it liked, I highly doubted it would change suddenly one morning. I feel the consuming urge to yawn, and as I do, the couple above me begin their morning screaming ritual.
Still fatigued from sleep, I languidly swing my legs onto the floor, my feet touching the chilly wooden planks. I feel the hairs along my skin raise at the abrupt change in temperature. Cait would hate this place. The mere thought of her makes my heart ache, so instead I rise and begin to make my way to the kitchen.
It's a short trip, given that I live in a small studio. One, two, three…I count my steps to the screen that divides my mattress from the rest of the apartment. As soon as I clear the screen, I shift and rotate my body rightwards and begin counting once more until I reach the steel trashcan. From there, it's only five steps to the refrigerator and upper cabinet where I store my cereal and coffee.
The couple continues to shout, the occasional stomp resounding through the room. I sigh in annoyance. I had only moved in a week ago, but in that time I was already aware of the schedules of my neighbours around me. The habits of people were more accurate than any clock could ever be. I just manage to pour the cereal into my bowl when I am interrupted by a telephone call.
"Karen Page. Karen Page." The robotic voice continues to trill until I answer.
"Hello."
"Amira? Is that you?" She sounds nervous, uncertain of herself. Then again, I suppose I would be too if I was calling a childhood acquaintance after such a long time. I wouldn't call at all.
"It's me, Karen."
"Oh, thank God. I was afraid I had saved the wrong number."
"No, no. So, what's up?" I fight the appearance of sounding bored, even though I am. Karen and I haven't spoken in over twelve years. Even then, we hadn't exactly been friends, having met each other at a summer camp in Vermont when we were thirteen. She had always felt uncertain around me, not that it would be odd; seeing people often felt uncomfortable around me, something nearly universal amongst the blind.
"I, uh, just wanted to check on you. See how you were doing. I mean, I know you're new to the city. That can be really hard. I remember when…" I stop listening. Karen has the best intentions, of that I'm certain. However, I have nothing in common with her. Nothing whatsoever. I wait for the line to go quiet before I respond.
"Well, New York isn't that different from Dubai, at the end of the day. A city's a city, after all." That was a lie. Cities are as different as one human being to another. Still, some part of me wants to reassure her. After all, the sooner she got over her sense of duty, the sooner we could both get along with our lives.
"Uh, yeah. I guess you're right. But, I mean, New York's a lot smaller. And it's American…" She trails off into nothingness and I decide to pour the milk into my cereal. "Anyway, um, I wanted to find out if you're free for lunch?"
I set the milk down and consider my options. If I say no, I'll likely get out of having to suffer through an awkward conversation and get on to more productive things. Still, she'll probably keep calling to reschedule and I didn't want to deal with that, either. I grit my teeth. Just get it over with. Like a band-aid. "Yeah, I'm free."
"Great!" She's far too excited about my response. What is she planning? "Great, there's some people I want you to meet." Oh no.
"I thought it would just be the two of us?"
"Well, I mean, I guess we could. B-but I wanted to introduce you to my bosses. I mean, they're friends too. I think you'd really like them. Matt, especially."
Surely, she's not doing what I think she is. She can't be attempting to set me up on a date with her boss. "Karen, if this is your way of-"
"Oh! No, no, no! God, no!" She interjects quickly, seeming to catch my drift. "It's just that you know, he's blind. And you're blind-" Even worse. Karen Page was trying to form a 'blind friend' support group. I would've preferred the date.
"Look, Karen, I know you mean well. But I don't need-"
"It's just that I think you'd guys have a lot in common. You're both really smart and-and, I don't know. I just don't want you to be alone in the city." I exhale sharply. Why is it I can't seem to be cruel to well-meaning people?
"Fine. Fine. But just this once, okay? I think you're forgetting I have coworkers. I'm not exactly alone."
"Yeah, of course. Great! Um, so I thought we could meet at twelve? There's this diner…" And she's off again, rattling on about daily routines, funny stories, and whatever other boring events of her life. She finally stops and I'm able to speak.
"Sounds good. I don't think Hell's Kitchen is too far from me. See you at twelve."
I place the phone down on the counter and sigh with exasperation. It's just a lunch meeting. She won't bother you again after this. I dunk the spoon into the cereal and into my mouth in one swift motion. The rest of the building's sounds overpowered by the internal, annoyed crunching of the cereal in my mouth.