The first time you met was at the police station, alongside his partner, Foggy. The second time, it took place at their law firm—Nelson & Murdock, a modest office adorned by dull wallpaper and poorly insulated walls. This time, you were standing in the penthouse apartment where Matt lived. The huge, bright billboard on the opposite building’s facade assaulted your retina through the window.

“I’ll leave you my room. You won’t get any sleep on that couch,” Matt said as he gestured at the view he had from the living room. It would bother you to sleep, but not him and his sightless eyes.

After you got accused in a shady case where Matt presented himself as your lawyer, he led you here. You weren’t in the police’s spotlights, but things remained dangerous for you. He didn’t want to leave you alone for the night. Those who were threatening you were still out there.

The apartment was barely decorated—mostly due to his lack of sight—and rather dim. He turned on a lamp, allowing a faint light to tame the obscurity. “Sorry,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “You can imagine I don’t really think about flipping switches.”

He easily walked to the kitchen’s counter, his movements smooth and agile, letting him adjust to his familiar home. He didn’t need to navigate with his cane here, his mind perceiving and recalling every piece of furniture’s spots. He brought back two cups of warm tea, a warm smile spreading over his lips as he handed you one.

“How are you holding up?” Matt asked. You barely knew each other’s, but you could already tell that he cared about your case beyond the feelings a lawyer may have for his client. Or maybe he was just a good Samaritan, his actions driven by a deep sense of heroism. Either way, you couldn’t tell—it seemed difficult to figure out his thoughts, being carefully hidden behind his shades.

Deep down, he knew you were hiding something. He could hear how fast your heartbeat raced when you lied. There was something you didn’t tell him about your case.