2017-01-15 Unexpected Company
This scene is rated PG-13
Warning: N/A
Players: Daredevil, Elektra
GMed by None
Title: Unexpected Company

What does one say to someone they haven't seen in so many years? Better yet someone once so close, yet now an enemy, in a sense. These questions had fluttered about in Elektra's mind as stands in the living room of said acquaintance, outdoor lighting just beyond the window she stands before casting a yellow hue across her signature, crimson attire.

Matt will find the front door the same as he left it, locked, but within there is change. A familiar scent lingering like a spectre, a warmth from the living room, a soft heartbeat at the window. "I would have thought a lawyer would live somewhere more… comfortable." The first words to greet him, dark and smooth with a touch of affection just at the edges.

The good lawyer could have known she was in there, but his senses had been dulled by alcohol, and an unfamiliarity. He hadn't encountered her scent in quite some time, so when he turns the knob, opens the door, and takes his first step inside, he stops midstride. He smelt her. It was Elektra. She was here. And his heart began to race.

He turned his head in her general direction. She was the only one he had sensed, and she knew he was no ordinary blind man. "It's warm in the winters, cool in the summers, and provides a roof over my head." He had his hand on his cane, but wasn't using it the way a blind man would usually. That was his Billy Club, though it would take valuable seconds to convert it if she decided to attack.

But he wasn't going to start a fight with her, not today, and if he could help it, not ever. "You sound good. Can I get you anything, tea, coffee, or did you come for me?" Another time, that would have had a different connotation, but today, he's wondering if she came here to kill him.

It was tempting, the urge to fight him. Elektra knew his skills, so the prospect of a worthwhile battle was an exciting one. But… "You'd be surprised by how many contracts I'm sent to kill you." She muses softly, pivoting at the waist to glance over before finally turning to him fully. "… But not today, Matthew. No one could pay me enough for that job."

The ghost of a smile touches dark red lips, a rare thing to draw out of her even to that degree. "I merely came to… check on you. It's been too long." Eyes on the room again, she finally moves from the window to the couch where she rests back comfortably at the end, a long leg crossing neatly over the other. "But I see you're doing well, too. Still keeping Hell's Kitchen clean?"

He believed her, because of what he was reading from her body language, the pulse, her scent, all the little signs that he could pick up on, but he also knew that she, more than most, could probably fool his senses. She had such total control over her body. He moved further into the apartment, heading towards the kitchen area. He wanted some water right now.

"Well, I do try to keep busy, rubbing all the wrong people in the right way. And… I appreciate that, Elektra." He had no desire to sacrifice himself, even if he routinely tried to in his line of work. He licked his lips as he headed to the kitchen, pulling out a pitcher of water. He found a glass, and poured one for himself. She hadn't said what she wanted, so he just got a glass for himself. He reaised it, and then wondered, for a brief moment, if she was lying. Could she have put something odourless into his pitcher? He drank it anyway.

Heading towards the couch, he loosened the tie around his neck. He still held his cane, but he wasn't using it. He knew his apartment well, and he could 'see' any changes she might have made. "It's nice… to know you still care. It… it's a big job, but yes, I'd like to think I'm making a difference." He sat down beside her. He chose to trust her… to a point.

It's amusing to watch him be so apprehensive, the pause to drink, still holding his cane. He had reason to worry, but not tonight. "You are, considering how many people want you dead… I can only imagine what else you could do if you ever left this city." But Elektra knows he never will.

Pausing, she shifts in her seat, sitting up nearer him and leaning more into her arm atop the back of the couch. "It's a wonder how you colour coordinate so well." She muses thoughtfully, toying at his loosened tie with a nail before icy gaze lifts to his face, two fingers walking up to his collar before reaching up to gently pluck his glasses from him. "… Are you nervous having me here?" Her voice quiets, curious of his response while looking to those unseeing eyes.

Matt lists off the things he could do if he ever did leave this city, "I could get a little sun, finally find out just how much my Scots-Irish skin would burn under a hot tropical sun, maybe see the old country, run for President, and leave a lot of people without the help they so desperately need." He cared about Hell's Kitchen, and all the people who called it home, both as Matt Murdock, and Daredevil.

He shifted to mirror her position, though he seemed decidedly less relaxed. She was controlling this conversation, this encounter, and he was wary. She was bad for him. He knew it. Foggy knew it. Oh god, how Foggy knew it. He had been warned time and again, but when it came to Elektra, he had trouble with that. Smiling to her as she toys with his loosened tie, "my drycleaner matches them up with Braille tags."

As she removed his glasses, he regarded her. "For all I know, I'm wearing a yellow and purple polka dot tie, green shirt, and a cotton candy pink suit." He could tell colour, but it was more of a guess. He could see the way heat affected each colour.

"We have… a colourful history. And I've been nervous around you, from the day we met until… I guess I'll let you know when that changes."

Elektra offered a soft noise of amusement at the comment on his clothing, but when it came to the important answer she couldn't keep the warmer smile from her expression. "Smart man." Her reply is coy, like her old self. It was strange to not feel the bitterness, the anger… But then Matt always did remind her of better times, allowing her to lower her guard, something almost never dropped.

But then her thoughts come trickling back in, her smile easing and thick lashes falling half-mast while gaze wanders sidelong. "… I'm sorry I never came back. But you know why… I'm here for a while, but I don't know how long." Thumb and forefinger absently rub the smooth fabric of his tie between them. "I do miss this city, Matt… And I do miss you." It could be a lie, but that's one thing she would never lie about. The dimness of her tone and the hint of ache beneath the surface make that fact clear.

He proceeded with caution. He was a moth, and Elektra Natchios was most definitely a flame. He could get burnt, and yet, he was still drawn to her. It's why he even sat down. He should have thrown her out. He should have demanded that she go. But he couldn't do that. There was too much… between them.

Although blind, his eyes seemed to regard her, locking onto her, as he could see through those lifeless orbs. He was concentrating on her, trying to decide how to act, what to say. There were so many things, and most of them conflicted with each other. It was infuriating for someone so well versed with his own thoughts. He was a lawyer. It was his job to be calm, collected, and persuasive, and he couldn't even persuade himself.

"It's… all right. I forgive you." Part of him was glad, part of him was not. He couldn't make up his mind where this woman was concerned. Finally, he breathed out a slow sigh. "Elektra… I miss you." He had to decide on the present or past tense there, "and I'm glad you've returned. Though," he smirked, "why the leotard?" He tried to make light of it to diffuse the tension.

That charming little comment does its job in lightening the mood, helping bring out from her something not heard in a long time. A laugh. It's small and airy, but a laugh all the same. "Why not? It's comfortable, flattering, and I don't hear you complaining…" Her grip tightens on his tie that now encircles hr hand, giving it a light tug to draw him in. "Besides, I don't think a suit would be very… flexible."

A smirk finally settles upon her, Elektra offering a low hum of thought while keeping him firmly near, her expression calm yet her flesh warmer than before and heart beating strongly. "Seeing as I've already broken into your apartment… perhaps I can impose further and stay a while longer tonight? … For old time's sake."

"Well, yes," he concedes that it would be comfortable to wear, "and you're right," it is flattering on her figure, "and no, I haven't" complained about it. He did like it. It was flattering. And he imagined that it was very comfortable. Plus, it was flexible, as flexible as she was, and she was a gymnast.

He would be tugging at his collar if she hadn't already gotten him by the tie. He leaned in at the tug. "Elektra, you, we… shouldn't…" but his protests were not as strong as he would have liked. He can feel her body heat. "… what… just what did you have in mind?" He finally gave in, curious to see where this might lead.

A small, upward tilt of her head has Elektra looking down to him, mischievous with a purr to her voice. "Matthew Murdock…" The name is chided softly, though remains playful. "You should know by now that 'shouldn't' isn't part of my vocabulary. Just where is the man I used to know? The one who never hesitated in the face of danger?" And who more dangerous than she?

Her posture shifts further, drawing in to meet the moth to her flame, soft breath warming his cheek when nearly leaning atop him. As for what she has in mind… "… Something familiar." Her hand releases his tie, freeing him, and smooths across his chest, her head turning to meet him fully with lips pressing softly to his own.

He liked when she called him Matthew. She was the only one who did that. To everyone else, he was simply Matt, but she liked to use his full name. It made his relationship with her feel special, even if it complicated. "I could teach you. Shouldn't, wouldn't, couldn't, mistake, wrong, bad move," he was listing off a number of ways to say the same thing. But few, if any of them, would work on her. "He grew up, got a job, has responsibilities, a practice. Though, I… have found another outlet for my… habits." In other words, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

His chest rises and falls as he feels her sot breath against his cheek. He leans back as she leans forward, with her now basically atop him. "Familiar is good… it can be bad too… but it's good." The lie lands on his chest when released, and he is surprised by the lips. He doesn't respond immediately. He hesitates. But after a second, he returns it. This was wrong, but how could he stop it? And… did he really want to?

Wrong, yes, but that never stopped him before. Elektra doubts that will change tonight. She was a difficult woman to say no to, but something so missed for so long would be a hard thing to deny. His reciprocating earns a low noise, a soft, yearning sound muffled by his lips as a wanting sigh escapes.

It feels as if all those years, all that mess, never even happened. Like it was one of their many sordid nights again. Elektra responds in kind to the memory, swinging her leg around to straddle him, bare thighs holding firmly to his waist. A serpent of temptation in her own right, the woman bites, teeth catching his lower lip and giving a soft tug upon it as the wisp of a chuckle leaves her.

Allowing it to snap back, Elektra looks down upon him from her perch in his lap now, jet black hair framing her face and the low, bedroom gaze that views him. "Do you think we still 'shouldn't'?" She teases that last word, eager.

Difficult didn't even begin to cover how much it took to say no to Elektra Natchios. He had managed to say it, but he wasn't very convincing, to her, or even to himself. He breathes through his nose, the air tickling her as she lets out that low, yearning sound. Her lips taste wonderful against his own, and was that the hint of strawberry he tasted?

It had been some time for him, and his own hands reached out to her sides as she straddled him. He wanted her, wanted to say yes, and wanted to give in. It would have been so easy. They could have done it here, in the bedroom, or any room of his apartment. They could have done it in every room for that matter. His body was responding, but his mind, his mind was trying to change that.

Oh god, how much he loved when she would bite his lip between hers. There is a noticeable noise as it snaps into place, the kind of thing most would miss, but he, with his senses, could hear the skin retracting. He could feel her hair against his own face as he lay on top of him.

This, it was so easy, so wonderful, but again, he said, "I know we shouldn't." He was eager, but he was no longer under her spell, not like before. He had become wiser. If she wanted him, she'd have to work for it. He wasn't going to be so easy this time around.

Matt's answer, while surprising, is expected. Elektra figured he would react differently this time around after so long. He couldn't be blinded by love forever. "… You've changed." She speaks after a long moment. There's no anger or disappointment in her voice, instead thoughtful as her hand at his chest touches across his jaw line. Leaning in, she would seek to kiss him again, but this time her painted lips find his forehead in a loving gesture.

Once she parts, Elektra moves to stand, withdrawing from his grasp. Working for anything is far from her style, much preferring a chase. With an easy stride she moves to the large windows covering one side of the apartment. "It was good seeing you, Matthew…" Her tone sincere, she smiles back to him while opening one of the windows, the chill of the night rushing in. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon." And with that she disappears out into the city streets below, slipping away through the shadows.

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