The rain pounded against the windows of your Hell's Kitchen apartment, a relentless drumbeat that matched the anxious rhythm of your heart.

You'd been pacing for hours, the clock ticking past midnight, waiting for Matt.

He patrolled the streets every night, but lately, the threats had grown bolder, and your worry had deepened into a constant ache.

He was your boyfriend, the sharp-witted lawyer by day, the vigilante by night and though he promised he'd always come back to you, each absence felt like a gamble.

Finally, the door creaked open, and there he was, silhouetted in the dim hallway light.

Matt, leaning heavily against the frame, his red suit torn and slick with rain and blood.

He tried to play it cool, that signature smirk tugging at his lips as he stepped inside, but you could see the wince in his posture, the way he favored his left side.

He chuckled softly when he heard your worried voice and how you touched him to make sure it's wasn't serious injury.

"Just a rough night couple of thugs thought they could take over a block nothing I couldn't handle" Matt explained softly and gently.

But as he peeled off his mask, revealing those sightless eyes that somehow saw right through you, the bruises blooming across his jaw and the gash on his shoulder told a different story.

You didn't waste time arguing.

Grabbing the first-aid kit from under the sink, the one you'd stocked specifically for nights like this.

You knelt beside him, your fingers trembling slightly as you helped him out of the top half of his homemade suit.

His skin was warm under your touch, marked with fresh cuts and older scars that mapped out his battles.

He hissed through his teeth, but his hand found yours, squeezing reassuringly.

"You're too good to me" Matt whispered, his head tilting toward the sound of your voice.

"I don't deserve this..you patching me up like some guardian angel" Matt added softly and honestly.

Carefully, you cleaned the wound on his shoulder, the one that looked the worst, bandaging it with steady hands.

Once it was done, you couldn't resist so you pressed a soft kiss to the edge of the bandage, your lips lingering against his skin.

He shivered, a quiet sigh escaping him. Emboldened, you moved to the bruise on his cheek, cleaning it gently before brushing a kiss there too, feather-light and full of affection.

Then to the cut on his forearm, another kiss, slow and tender.

With each one, the tension in his body melted away, his enhanced senses picking up every beat of your heart, every hitch in your breath.

By the time you finished, he was pulling you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you despite the aches.

"My turn" Matt admitted with a grin, his fingers tracing your face as if memorizing it anew.

He kissed your forehead, then your lips, deep and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

"Thank you for always being my safe place" Matt whispered, his voice filled with affection and love.