lambmurdock

matt murdock

love letters

his sweet, sensitive gf

fireflies

short musings

feral dog

cuddles

to be loved is to be known

holding hands

You sit under a lonely maple tree, Matt beside you, tree bark digging into your backs, grass tickling your skin. Surprisingly, It's actually quite comfortable. Your head lolls agaisnt his shoulder as you listen to the cicadas, and the early birds chirping lightly overhead. The sun isn't out yet, but the sky is tinged in a lighter blue than it was an hour ago. It won't be long until the day begins. For now, the world stands still, holding you gently in this rare moment of peace that you get to share with your sweet love.

You say his name softly, holding it in your mouth the way you hold him in your heart, "Matty?"

"Yes, Sweetie?" His reply is just as soft.

You lift your head from his shoulder, looking at over a dozen fireflies flittering over the grass. "When you were a kid, did you ever see any fireflies?" Your soft grip on his hand tightens with your growing excitement.

"No, I didn't." He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles with a tenderness he never realised he was capable of before you, "Describe them to me, Baby."

"Well…they're like these gentle wisps of light. Kind of like stars, you know, 'cause they blink. It's so beautiful…" He smiles beside you, already enraptured by your description, "They feel kind of innocent…hopeful, in a way…almost like little reminders that there's still good in this world…" A nervous laugh escapes your lips, "That probably doesn't make any sense."

He turns to you, the hand that's not holding yours reaching to cup your cheek, "I don't need to see a firefly to know there's still light in this world, Sweetheart. I have you for that, lovely girl."