The Devil Next Door | DAREDEVIL

7 - What Anyone Deserves

Laying in bed surrounded by tear-soaked tissues was nothing new to Ariel. She had been in this situation far too many times because of far too many people. She never expected to fall into another trap like this again. A man who puts on a charming front to hook you, only to be leading a whole other life. It was as transparently foolish as the wolf who dressed as an old lady to trick little red riding hood. But here she was, crying over fleeting hope.

It had almost been a week since Ariel found out about the woman named Claire. Steve who was left high and dry the last time they spoke attempted to see her, only to be met with screaming threats and name calling. As the days passed she expected to get over the one sided crush with ease, but it was a hopeless effort. Sleeping was no easier with incessant thoughts keeping her awake. Her eyes were glazed over from the sleepless night, lingering around as she hoped her body would eventually give in. 

As she stared off into space, her eyes found a small clump in her corner. She squinted to focus and saw an all too familiar balled-up shirt and tie. Her temper sparked, her new found anger inspiring her to get out of bed. Ariel grabbed the clothes and stomped into her kitchen, igniting the stovetop. Just as she went to hold the soiled clothing over the flames, she stopped herself. Matt owed her nothing, it was a harsh truth but the truth nonetheless less. All of these feelings had been accumulating for two years and were now being displaced onto Matt. 

Ariel let out a deep breath before turning the burner off. The scent of coffee was still strong on the clothes, but there was something else. When she brought it closer to her face she could smell musky wood and some sort of spice. She had payed any attention to his scent before, it only now seeming clear to her. It made her feel safe and worked up, her heart fluttering and a warmth spreading across her face as she thought of him. She could remember the feel of his calloused hands. Fantasizing what those hands could do made a chill go through her. She started to imagine what the rest of him must look like– 

Ariel pulled the shirt away and let out a long sigh in frustration. She just needed to get the stain out and clean it. After that, she could put this humiliating situation behind her. 

Cleaning the shirt and tie was quick work with an over the counter stain remover doing most of it. She wasted no time putting it in the wash followed by a quick dry. To finish the job, she hung both items on the back of a chair and used a steamer to get rid of any wrinkles. As Ariel was finishing up, there was a loud and slow knock on her door. She jumped at the sound, almost dropping the steamer on herself. It was well past midnight bordering on three in the morning. 

Ariel cautiously got up, grabbing a knife from her kitchen block before approaching the door. She peered through the peephole and saw an all too familiar pair of crimson glasses. At first she was prepared to pretend she wasn't home, but the sight of blood made hers run cold.

This was the last place Matt wanted to crawl to for help. He figured Ariel would be upset based on Claire's retelling of what happened the night of the explosions, but he needed the aid.  Aside from the physical injuries from Stick, the mental ones were taking a toll on him too. He could hear Ariel behind the door, picking up a small gasp when she looked through the peephole. She  cracked the door open and saw Matt leaning on the wall for support. A thick trail of blood dripped from his nose to his chin and a cut on his temple caused more to run down the side of his face. "...What happened?" she struggled to ask.

Matt could barely keep his eyes open, his glasses hiding his struggle. "I uh, I got into a fight with an old friend," he murmured out.

A part of Ariel wanted to slam the door in his face, but she couldn't turn him away in this state. She opened the door and helped him stumble inside. He didn't have his cane so he had to solely depend on her to guide him. She walked him to her couch, grabbing some tissues and holding them to his nose. "Hold this," she ordered before going into her bathroom.