@devilwithoutfear
Being dead was boring. Well, not dead. Elektra wasn't sure dead was the right word anymore. There had been an indeterminable period of time where she certainly couldn't be classified as living. There was a certain irony to be found in the fact that the woman pulled from the abyss of nonexistence had shackled her heart to a man so entangled in the soul's battle between heaven and hell. It was far simpler for her. Elektra had died. She had tasted death and it was nothing. It was nothing more than just another way for the world to try to take advantage and victimize her.
Elektra believed in no God. There was no God who cared for her or called her his own. Elektra did, however, believe in Matthew. It was through him that she found all things holy.
Dead, alive, whatever. For some reasons out of her hands, Elektra found that death was more temporary than she had originally been led to believe. She was on her third (?) go at it now. The first one had been complicated, full of trying and failing. The second one was a desperate blur that began in blood. This time? This time, Elektra was doing what she pleased — and nothing pleased her more than doing Matthew Murdock.
It was more than the physical, of course. His hands made her human, tamed the feral in her that no finishing school could have polished into submission. For him, she tried. She attempted to bottle up the wail inside of her and dull fangs that had been sharpened to a deadly point. This was a new reality, a new chance. Elektra did not want to let sins of the past bloody their present before they had a chance to live once more.
Being pulled into this new reality meant being pulled from the hole she had dug for herself. It wasn't a grave seven feet under, but it was an isolation she had exiled herself to after crawling from the ruins that should have killed her and Matthew. She had tried to stay away from him so that he could have the full life he deserved, but this multiversal mess had changed things. They were adrift, and she had always looked to him to be her shore.
"I'm bored." Accented syllables dripped from pouted lips. In her attempt to not make a stir, Elektra was laying painfully low. "Come, Matthew." One hand extended. "Sit."
Her words were simple but the air was too heavy for him to move. If he went to her right now, they both knew where that would lead. Some part of him was always wondering what the point of resisting was and then the other reminded him that he was never going to be sure he as making clear and conscious decisions from between her legs. although in most instances they would be the same none the less. Matthew had been lying to himself for years, and it wasn't until she died that he made room for the truth. He had really only ever loved woman in his life. Sure, there had been other women he had been devoted to and honest with, but if he were ever truly being honest with himself, whatever he felt for them never measured up to the way he felt about Elektra. He might have loved them, but he had always been in love with Elektra. And for most of their time together, he tried avoiding that truth--more to spare himself than anything else. Elektra was the only person to understand the violence curled beneath his skin. Cover it as he might try with words like honor and justice...they were just proverbial masks he used to smother the rage brewing underneath. Matt was a good lawyer because he had an intuitive ability to study the rules and find the cracks in their seams, and he supposed, if he was honest now, he did the same thing with God. He didn't have to lie if he never admitted to himself the truth, and if there was anything Matthew was better at than fighting or talking through a case, it was hiding from himself. After all, if he never had to stare the beast in the mirror for what it was, it was a little like getting away with lying to God. But a sin was a sin, wasn't it? Even if you didn't know you were committing. Or in his case, bargaining. this for that. Matthew took a deep even breath as he loosened his tie and tried to ease the tension from his shoulders, except that didn't necessarily help because the air was blowing in from the heater and he could practically taste her from where he stood at the window.
"are you hungry? i can order something."
