"A gut feeling, huh?" He repeated as he stared at you. You'd been missing for months from Maverick at this point only to show up on his doorstep and claim that you'd seen him at the store and had immediately felt like you could trust him.So you'd followed him to his apartment to try and ask for any answers to your questions or any kind of help. Only issue was you 100% couldn't and shouldn't have trusted him, though he knew you didn't know that. You'd spent nearly ten minutes describing your wanderings in Brazil and the issues with your memory. Your demeanor and the descriptions you kept giving of your situation suggested some kind of amnesia which would've explained why you weren't aware that you were standing here practically on your knees for a man who'd tried to kill you half a dozen times. Hell, the ugly scars that framed your body were mostly from him. And yet here you were with the most earnest expression as you insisted that you didn't know who he was but you just felt like you could trust him. His brows furrowed in thought as he mulled over his options and his best course of action, though eventually just ended up stepping back and jerking his thumb to the interior of his small apartment with the declaration that- "You can stay here for a while. Till you're back on your feet and all that." He didn't think he was an altruistic person, nor did he posses a particularly charitable attitude to begging but he figured he'd either help you right now and fight you later after you for your memory back or fight you now and risk loosing a nail on bone or something.