[ Matt is quiet and patient throughout Wanda's study of him. When she checks for his wounds — fresh ones and old — he remains still, letting her hands tug at his borrowed hoodie, and then waiting while she takes stock of his sustained injuries. He can hear the steady beating of her heart at the start, and then the way that it changes, beating faster when she realizes that everything is true; that he's telling the truth.
When she finally lets go, Matt opens his mouth as though to say something, maybe to defend himself or to apologize again, but then she's pushed herself into him, arms winding around to hold him close. The suddenness surprises him — sure, he can trace the exact moment when someone is tries to land a strike on him, can dodge a flying projectile that threatens to pierce through his skin, but this catches him unawares.
They don't quite topple over, but Matt finds he has to quickly catch his balance and hers, righting their weight by leaning into her. And when he does, when they've settled, he stays there with his face buried in her hair, his arms moving to wrap around her waist in kind while they still remain low to the floor, caught up in each other.
He breathes in.
Breathes out. ]
It's not something I would ever want you to have to lie about. If anyone asked.
[ Or if they tried to pry it out of her.
And he knows that bearing this secret alone, for as long as he has, ensures that no one else ever has to be put in harm's way. It all changed tonight, of course, and that's his own damned fault too ... but something inside him releases too — like the pressure and the weight of this other life has finally found somewhere else to go. ]
But I am me. [ He agrees, voice muffled and maybe just a little thicker than mere seconds before. ] I am me. And I'm sorry, Wanda.
[ His nose grazes against the side of her neck, as he too tightens his hold on her, hugging her like she's his lifeline. Like she's always been his lifeline until the moment he let go, swallowed by the darkness of the sea. ]
no subject
When she finally lets go, Matt opens his mouth as though to say something, maybe to defend himself or to apologize again, but then she's pushed herself into him, arms winding around to hold him close. The suddenness surprises him — sure, he can trace the exact moment when someone is tries to land a strike on him, can dodge a flying projectile that threatens to pierce through his skin, but this catches him unawares.
They don't quite topple over, but Matt finds he has to quickly catch his balance and hers, righting their weight by leaning into her. And when he does, when they've settled, he stays there with his face buried in her hair, his arms moving to wrap around her waist in kind while they still remain low to the floor, caught up in each other.
He breathes in.
Breathes out. ]
It's not something I would ever want you to have to lie about. If anyone asked.
[ Or if they tried to pry it out of her.
And he knows that bearing this secret alone, for as long as he has, ensures that no one else ever has to be put in harm's way. It all changed tonight, of course, and that's his own damned fault too ... but something inside him releases too — like the pressure and the weight of this other life has finally found somewhere else to go. ]
But I am me. [ He agrees, voice muffled and maybe just a little thicker than mere seconds before. ] I am me. And I'm sorry, Wanda.
[ His nose grazes against the side of her neck, as he too tightens his hold on her, hugging her like she's his lifeline. Like she's always been his lifeline until the moment he let go, swallowed by the darkness of the sea. ]
I love you too. I do.
[ More than she knows. ]