Frank had been following Daredevil when he stopped cold in his tracks. Everything in him just stopped moving. He stared at the wall of an empty alleyway and it honestly felt like he'd been shot in the stomach. He closed his eyes and tried to calm the sensation, but it did not go away.
Daredevil, or Matt Murdock, was a gigantic complication. He was a vigilante, and he took justice in his own hands, but he had the most twisted sense of right and wrong that Frank had ever seen. This, of course, was saying something, if you considered the fact that his job was to kill the bad guy. Apparently beating the shit out of a criminal was okay, so was causing irreversible internal damage, as long as you didn't kill them. Killing was the only big no-no in Daredevil's book.
The man was infuriating and Frank hated him. He hated his holier-than-thou attitude and the fact that he couldn't seem to get into the man's head. As much as he tried, he couldn't seem to understand him. Daredevil also got into his way, nearly constantly. He was always there, interfering with Frank's hits and telling him that there had to be a better way. He was always trying to reach him, trying to understand Frank and his motives.
Matt Murdock was a good man. Not even just the sickening kind of 'good' either. He was a true, genuine good person. He fought the good fight, both as a lawyer and a vigilante. The love he had for his city alone was overwhelming. Anyone who knew any of Matt's many sides would be able to clearly see that he was just a pure soul.
As Frank thought about this, the most horrifying thought occurred to him. Holy shit. He was in love with Daredevil.
That was the thing he was feeling. He almost hadn't recognized it. He had felt it when he was eighteen years old and had met Maria for the first time. It was butterflies, intensity, nervousness - it was rolled up together in his chest. His behavior had been borderline stalking for the last three weeks or so. He could not stop looking out for Matt, seeking him out whether in costume or not. He steadied himself and then turned and ran away.
He was a dead man. He was not allowed to love again.
--
Matt paused.
Frank.
There was no doubt in his mind that Frank had been watching him again. The man had a certain step about him, something that made him stand apart from anyone else. Matt had also had grown accustomed to knowing Frank, knowing him in the only way that he could know someone.
He waited for the approach, but it never came.
Frank was still there, though. Matt could hear a falter in his step and then the racing beat of his heart. He was breathing heavily too. Was he about to hit another target? As far as he could tell, Frank was the only one in the area, but maybe he'd missed something. He turned on his heel and headed up to the alleyway he'd passed on his way up. That had been where he'd heard the sharp breath of his sometimes stalker.
Minifill - Frank/Matt - In Love
Daredevil, or Matt Murdock, was a gigantic complication. He was a vigilante, and he took justice in his own hands, but he had the most twisted sense of right and wrong that Frank had ever seen. This, of course, was saying something, if you considered the fact that his job was to kill the bad guy. Apparently beating the shit out of a criminal was okay, so was causing irreversible internal damage, as long as you didn't kill them. Killing was the only big no-no in Daredevil's book.
The man was infuriating and Frank hated him. He hated his holier-than-thou attitude and the fact that he couldn't seem to get into the man's head. As much as he tried, he couldn't seem to understand him. Daredevil also got into his way, nearly constantly. He was always there, interfering with Frank's hits and telling him that there had to be a better way. He was always trying to reach him, trying to understand Frank and his motives.
Matt Murdock was a good man. Not even just the sickening kind of 'good' either. He was a true, genuine good person. He fought the good fight, both as a lawyer and a vigilante. The love he had for his city alone was overwhelming. Anyone who knew any of Matt's many sides would be able to clearly see that he was just a pure soul.
As Frank thought about this, the most horrifying thought occurred to him. Holy shit. He was in love with Daredevil.
That was the thing he was feeling. He almost hadn't recognized it. He had felt it when he was eighteen years old and had met Maria for the first time. It was butterflies, intensity, nervousness - it was rolled up together in his chest. His behavior had been borderline stalking for the last three weeks or so. He could not stop looking out for Matt, seeking him out whether in costume or not. He steadied himself and then turned and ran away.
He was a dead man. He was not allowed to love again.
--
Matt paused.
Frank.
There was no doubt in his mind that Frank had been watching him again. The man had a certain step about him, something that made him stand apart from anyone else. Matt had also had grown accustomed to knowing Frank, knowing him in the only way that he could know someone.
He waited for the approach, but it never came.
Frank was still there, though. Matt could hear a falter in his step and then the racing beat of his heart. He was breathing heavily too. Was he about to hit another target? As far as he could tell, Frank was the only one in the area, but maybe he'd missed something. He turned on his heel and headed up to the alleyway he'd passed on his way up. That had been where he'd heard the sharp breath of his sometimes stalker.
Frank was gone.