<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/3bIq1uu.png)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Matthew Murdock<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: Navy suit, tinted glasses<br/><strong>Time and Date</strong>: 9/9/2019 | Late Night<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Jennifer Walters Apartment -> Hells Kitchen, New York<br/><strong>Content</strong>: Being late<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Jennifer Walters<br/><hr/><br/>Matt proceeded into the apartment and took off his glasses, leaving them, along with his cane and the 'blind man' act on a nearby coffee table. He smiled softly at her and nodded, his ever-wistful gaze locked on her. There was a connection between them, an understanding he felt with few other people - except perhaps Foggy - as she had also lived the double life that he did.  "Something like that. Nothing I couldn't handle. A few thugs causing trouble and harassing homeless people around the 44th and I wanted to investigate an old warehouse that's been closed down for constructions with no construction ever being done. It smells fishy and I know it's not the Hudson", he chuckled, before closing his eyes to feel her touch. He opened them again and reached up to his face to gently hold her hand on his cheek, smiling softly as he answered.<br/><br/>"Not a scratch, I promise. No -new- scratch, anyway. But more importantly, how are you?"<br/><br/>He knew she had been stressed as he situation was not easy. A woman of her age, a lawyer and a superhero, she was now in a situation where she had no stability and no solid plan for the future. Of course, he rarely did himself - what sense is there to make long-term plans when your next bout against a couple of thugs in an alley could be your last? The thought wasn't depressing to him - it was simply reality. He was aging, sooner or later, his body would slow down just enough to give his adversaries the extra second they would need to finish him off. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen had always been living on borrowed time.<br/><br/>As he studied her - her smell, the gentleness of her voice, the shape of her body and her features as sound waves vibrated and bounced off her - giving him a picture of her far more accurate than most people would assumed - he wondered. If the worst happened and he could no longer be there for her, what would she do? She would manage, of course, he reasoned - she was a strong woman after all - but she was one more of the many reasons why he was in no hurry to go and considered at times giving up the his costume as well.