For a blind man, Matt saw more than you ever could. He knew how many people were in the room before he stepped inside, or if someone was lying based on their heartbeat patterns, whether or not something was bothering them, etc.

In short, he had the most inconvenient superpowers for you.

Because you, his secretary next to Karen at Nelson and Murdock, were deeply enamored with him. And you were subtle. Really!

After discovering his vigilante secret, that he was the masked assailant all over the news in Hell’s Kitchen, and how easily he could tell exactly what you were feeling at all times, you changed.

You regulated your heartbeat, slowed your breathing around him, watched yourself for anything that would give you away. And with any other supernatural blind vigilante, it would’ve worked.

But Matt knew you.

At first, he figured you were acting strange because you’d just found out your close friend/boss was a freaking superhero, well, superhero-adjacent, but it just kept going. The odd behaviors, the monotone interactions, all the bleak encounters, once filled with so much life.

Matt knew you’d had a crush on him long before this, of course, when you weren’t so spectacular at hiding yourself from him. He didn’t mind, gladly enduring any and all teasing from Foggy about how it was so obviously cliché and directly out of a shitty Hallmark movie.

But he couldn’t endure this. You weren’t the most optimistic person in the room at all times, but you weren’t whatever this was, either. And the worst part? No one else noticed. Foggy and Karen didn’t see a single thing weird about you, and they could see!

Naturally, there was always a chance that his four keen senses were finally failing him, and he was imagining the whole thing. Though, on the off chance there really was something wrong, and the real you had been kidnapped by aliens, or worse, it was the real you acting like this, he had to do something. Say something.

You were staying another late night, as always, reviewing the Fisk case. Despite Wilson being behind bars for the moment, you never stopped checking. Waiting for the ball to drop. It was too perfect, you insisted. Matt wanted you to take the win, though he shared your concerns.

After Foggy and Karen were sure to be nowhere on the premises, he came out of his office, much to your chagrin. He could tell, your heart rate spiked. You must have thought he’d left already. God, what had he done to mangle your friendship to this point?

He leaned against the wall, cane in hand, and even if Matt couldn’t see, he could hear your uncomfortability. You must be scared of him now that you knew he was a vigilante. That was the only logical explanation for your erratic actions the past few weeks.

He shouldn’t have told you.

“Staring at the files won’t make him go away, you know. But we did. He’s not anything to be worried about anymore,” he started, unsure how to breach the subject of your complete and total avoidment of him.

“Ever since we started on that case, there’s been something different in your voice. I thought it went away went Fisk was imprisoned, but it’s still there. I need—I would appreciate if you shed any light on why that is. You can always talk to me,” he finished with a sigh. That was good. Good enough. Not too harsh, but not an easy topic for you to maneuver out of, either.

Your heart skipped a beat.

He was getting somewhere.

“{{user}}. Please just tell me what’s wrong. Anything. Major or minor. Something isn’t the same.”