Sometimes, Matt really was not as clever as he thought given that the way he'd frankly unconsciously allowed for situations to appear in way for Karen to arise to yet another ridiculous notion. Hearing it from her, though, it was helping. It hurt, but it helped. Getting a better grasp on what her perception of all the events of late was, that was important and more than he could ask for.
He looked shocked though, lines of his face deepening that she'd thought he was a drunk. An alcoholic, cheating, asshole. Awesome: Matthew Murdock, you've really outdone yourself.
Thoughts of what how he could reply danced through his mind, yet he let her go on, glad to have done so. For, she gave a blunt and frank declaration of her assessment, one that pained him more, but with pain came clarity, and clarity was everything.
"It's a reasonable conclusion," he said, voice and heart feeling lame as he ran his teeth gently against his bottom lip, not repeating that what Karen had thought didn't truly reflect reality.
And with those brief words, he let her keep going, not interjecting even when he thought about how he didn't want to lie to her anymore, omission of the truth being just as much of a lie. That he knew he chose what he was doing in the city, with Elektra, over her and Foggy, the trial, his very job. Yet he wouldn't have changed his mind. It was important at the time, and as he pondered how to express that multitude of feelings that he knew would sound awful with actual words, Karen's voice broke again and she asked that.
It made his jaw tighten, mouth jutting over to the side as he tried to hold back the emotion over that idea. "God, Karen, it was always important. With you, and Foggy, I would never write either of you off," because he had no qualms with continuing to include Foggy in the conversation, considering that it simply made sense. "But I didn't know if it was right, it I should tell, or how to tell you..." Then, well, his hand with a mind of its own had trailed up higher to the top of her shoulder before he bridged what little distance there was between them, to move in and embrace her, hands going up to the top of her back, near her shoulder blades, to hug against her, in spite of not having enough words. Even with having left her with pain, with so many unanswered questions.
He didn't know if she'd pull away, and if she did - if she fled away from him, well, he'd let her go. Matt always let people go. Knowing how desperate an action it was, he let his face go in toward her neck, awkwardly not making contact, though he wanted to bury his face there, feels her form against his. "I'm sorry, Karen. I've always wanted to let you in." To every part of himself.
He should have. Had the faith to know that she could protect herself more than he realized; that, even if he had saved her that first night, he wasn't the crowning glory of all safety and protection that he wanted to believe Daredevil could be. She was capable, and he could trust her.
Voice low, eyes closed, he held onto her, hands against her back. "I should've tried, given you the chance." Of course he wanted her to hug back, and in a familiarly desperate tone, added the words, "Can you let me try to prove to you how important it is to me, to be able to try, now? Please."
Re: Karen Page | Daredevil
He looked shocked though, lines of his face deepening that she'd thought he was a drunk. An alcoholic, cheating, asshole. Awesome: Matthew Murdock, you've really outdone yourself.
Thoughts of what how he could reply danced through his mind, yet he let her go on, glad to have done so. For, she gave a blunt and frank declaration of her assessment, one that pained him more, but with pain came clarity, and clarity was everything.
"It's a reasonable conclusion," he said, voice and heart feeling lame as he ran his teeth gently against his bottom lip, not repeating that what Karen had thought didn't truly reflect reality.
And with those brief words, he let her keep going, not interjecting even when he thought about how he didn't want to lie to her anymore, omission of the truth being just as much of a lie. That he knew he chose what he was doing in the city, with Elektra, over her and Foggy, the trial, his very job. Yet he wouldn't have changed his mind. It was important at the time, and as he pondered how to express that multitude of feelings that he knew would sound awful with actual words, Karen's voice broke again and she asked that.
It made his jaw tighten, mouth jutting over to the side as he tried to hold back the emotion over that idea. "God, Karen, it was always important. With you, and Foggy, I would never write either of you off," because he had no qualms with continuing to include Foggy in the conversation, considering that it simply made sense. "But I didn't know if it was right, it I should tell, or how to tell you..." Then, well, his hand with a mind of its own had trailed up higher to the top of her shoulder before he bridged what little distance there was between them, to move in and embrace her, hands going up to the top of her back, near her shoulder blades, to hug against her, in spite of not having enough words. Even with having left her with pain, with so many unanswered questions.
He didn't know if she'd pull away, and if she did - if she fled away from him, well, he'd let her go. Matt always let people go. Knowing how desperate an action it was, he let his face go in toward her neck, awkwardly not making contact, though he wanted to bury his face there, feels her form against his. "I'm sorry, Karen. I've always wanted to let you in." To every part of himself.
He should have. Had the faith to know that she could protect herself more than he realized; that, even if he had saved her that first night, he wasn't the crowning glory of all safety and protection that he wanted to believe Daredevil could be. She was capable, and he could trust her.
Voice low, eyes closed, he held onto her, hands against her back. "I should've tried, given you the chance." Of course he wanted her to hug back, and in a familiarly desperate tone, added the words, "Can you let me try to prove to you how important it is to me, to be able to try, now? Please."