HIT THE WALLᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰ.

               ❛    i have, i’ve thought about it,           but you WON’T see me walking one anytime soon.   ❜  (   the answer is about as old and worn as the question.    )    ❛   when i find my first grey hair, MAYBE i’ll re-consider.   ❜         

 the TINNY sound of the voicemail distorts the message enough to extend the suspension of DISBELIEF, but as it replays –  the evidence attains unmistakable clarity. no doubt, it is the very distinct slur of a very drunk matt murdock, making a BIG effort to unleash the trap on his consciousness. the result’s LARGELY unintelligible, but the currently very sober matt murdock notices something worth deflecting : a loud, obvious, blunt FONDNESS in the way her name buzzes through the shitty speaker. all that’s unbridled is wrestled ( revealingly )  into the one word.  (            luckily, it’s deletable.   ) 

                  ❛    we were born to die.    ❜  his sharp tongue gets cut on the SHARPER truth. reality is callous, and even though the point is offensively raised, spat out of spite, he feels the recoil full force. UNFORGIVING. self - awareness summons dejection, punctuated with the numbing tick of an internal clock.  (   they’re both dying as they stand now in this silence, – in the FALSE calm. everyone is always dying, perpetually deteriorating,  – even as their chest rises & falls in protest. demise is NOT so distant, but he wants a purpose beyond the inevitability. he wants to be bigger than that universal sentence … DOES SHE ?  )                           with his chin RAISED in CHALLENGE, lips pull tight into the fine line of a grimace. it turns on her, all that inward attention, listening for contact (  or lack thereof.  )  

            (   he abides despite unmistakable MISGIVINGS, backing against the wall & into the shadows, arms folded taught across his chest.    )   ❛    if this takes an UNFORTUNATE turn, i’m butting in. no excuses.     ❜

         ❛     i’m thinking finders keepers doesn’t really apply HERE,             so i’ll be sticking around, if you don’t mind.     ❜

         (  with already QUESTIONABLE candor, his piqued interest serves in their favor. he’ll be waiting it out.  )  ❛   well anna dixon, if you’d care to ELABORATE,       we’ll see if i can be of any help.   ❜

                        ❛    as much as fisk ALWAYS deserves to have his ass handed to him, the villains with terrible schticks occasionally endanger people, & their bad taste doesn’t guarantee them a FREE PASS.   ❜    exasperation only briefly gets the better of him, rattling his chest with a sigh that’s a little THEATRICAL at heart.  ( the smirk’s a giveaway. )   ❛    if i was actively trying to offend you, you’d know, wade. you’d know.   ❜

               ❛   expecting something ?  no, no, i’m just PASSING TIME.  ❜  it’s intentionally evidenced in the informality he adopts, HALF a charade that snaps his high strung resolve for the moment’s sake & squeaks the chair with a measured lean. there’s nothing to prove, but it’s hard to stop PARADING.    ❛  my name’s matt  ❜  (   there’s no game in giving it up. if he's playing one at all, the rules haven't been decided yet. ) ❛   what do i call you ?   ❜  

                           his head cants in an approximation of an approximation, further offsetting an already skewed eye - line.   ❛     that you may.   -shoot.       ❜

                        ❛      if you made your entrance an hour ago, you could’ve had a swing at stilt-man.    ❜  (  a scoff slips.   --  he’s ALLOWED a laugh at the LESS THAN impressive members of his rogues’ gallery.  )   ❛   your loss.    ❜