nexus_sages | made waves with some friends I know

Dancing with another person is always better than dancing alone. They fall into sync, one to the other to the music of a song that keeps playing breath to breath, heartbeat to heartbeat.

However long they stay in the sand eventually they make it to the water right. Matt ditches the shirt, the glasses, all of it to the safety of their blankets and belongings. "Are you going to keep the hat and sarong?" He hasn't dashed off yet to the water but he finds himself to be oh so excited for it.

Swimming without it being a watery escape from danger. Imagine.

When their heartbeats and breathing sync, it's better than a dance. It's a glorious chance for the whole world to make sense, because the whole world is the two of them.

While they sit, Ver quietly describes the scene for him. They've been to the beach before, and she told him how it looked this morning when they arrived to set up. But this time, while they're sitting quiet, she takes his hand and sketches the scene on his palm: here's the cliffs, here's the sand, here's the high tide line; this is the bonfire, and us, and everything. People milling about are dots and squiggles, the lightest touches and caresses against his oh so sensitive skin. And while she draws she talks, labeling everything in a low voice meant only for his ears.

Ver doesn't get up immediately when he starts shucking clothes. Let the woman enjoy the view for a moment. He is so very handsome and she never ever gets tired of looking. "Not for swimming. That'd be impractical." The hat comes off first, weighed down by her bag so it doesn't blow away. Then she stands, shaking the sand off her sarong before untieing the knot and unwinding it. He can enjoy the show in his own way.

It's a little piece of paradise for the two of them, these moments when they get to live normal lives.

The whole damn world making sense for once is a matchless bliss.

If her name wasn't Verity, Bliss would be a good one. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Be as sweet as she is. His palms are no longer a highway of nerves, prints and callouses. Now it's a work of art with an intimate walk through by the artist. Or perhaps photographer, she did not make the shore as it is or the cliffs but capture it in a moment for him. It is just as beautiful. Now and then her whispers get a kiss or a murmur of approval.

Cotton rasps over his skin. It also gives him a chance to stretch. Matt tries not to smirk too much as he hears her heart rate kick up. One arm across the other and then both shaking out. The sand dropping away sounds like a small rain of pebbles as the fabric moves off of Verity. The wind and heat of the sun touch her body and it's very much like she's wearing nothing at all. Oh yes. She's being admired. Intensely.

"I should have known. You're always practical."

The bliss is all his doing, she'd maintain, but he might be able to convince her to try and take a more objective view. Maybe. If they don't get distracted from it.

'Bliss' isn't a name she'd choose for herself. But for this moment, for the picture she's painting for him: perfect. This is bliss. The whispers, the kisses, the approval... getting to wrap themselves up in this world they're making for themselves and simply enjoy it. Bliss.

Admiration from him is always welcome, even though it still makes her blush. Once her sarong is folded and set aside she reaches out to run a hand down his chest. "That's me, the practical one. I kept you, after all, which is an extremely practical choice." Her hand drifts lower, but moves to slide into his before it gets too distracting.

"Lead the way, honey."

All his doing? No, no. It was collaborative if he's involved. Trying to make a point and keep objective is not as easy because they sure do get distracted. The wind changes and there goes the thought. That's just fine. The feeling and sentiment remain.

This must be why people take vacations. Matt has never really taken a break outside of a few days off or a trip to Nexus. Outside of Hell's Kitchen it is a refuge. At least he hadn't approached it the way he had for today. The whole world can wait outside of this day and all of it's peace.

Her blush is like a lantern. He was coming closer to her anyway. "Oh it is." No, it isn't but love is really not a logical thing all the time. "Extremely practical. The benefits are endless." The same with the frustration. Matt reaches up to take her hand. Already it's like he can feel lines drawn over his flesh. Her knuckles get a kiss.

There were a good amount of dots in her illustration. True to it the beach is large enough to have some privacy as they cross the sand until it's compact and wet. No rush to the steps just a leisurely stroll, hand in hand because he can do this unaided. "Are you gonna rush in with me?" They're not even a whole foot in yet. Matt's skin betrays him with goosebumps. The first touch of the ocean is always cold.

Vacations. It's like a foreign word to her. To both of them. They might have to try that sometime. They can travel anywhere they want, after all: why not visit all those places they've only heard about? Paris is still dotted with restaurants full of jazz music and good wine. There are islands in the Pacific where they could be the only people for miles. If only...

Yes, he does belong closer to her. "The--oh." That was unexpected. The kiss on her knuckles makes her weak-kneed and she nearly falls into Matt's arms before she catches herself. "That was. Um." You know what? She's just going to stay there for a minute. "What were we talking about?"

A leisurely stroll into the water is perfect. The cold water makes her gasp when it splashes over her legs. "I'll always go with you, honey, you should know that by now." She dove head-first into the heroing gig for him. What's an ocean in comparison? His hand gets a squeeze of encouragement. "Always."

The world is so wide and open, just like that isn't it? Maybe they should just go for it. Runaway for a few days from everyone and everything. (With a contact number because Foggy Nelson is fully capable but sure likes a lifeline.)

Their hands now are clasped between them. Matt even reaches for the other for a moment for a squeeze. He laughs softly as his heart warms to molten at her reaction. Still. Continually. "We were talking about how I love you and how extremely practical it is that you have me."

And that is that. Right?

"Together it is." Except maybe not the way she thinks. "Have you ever read that footprints in the sand inspirational?" Because he's going to carry her into the waves like she's a lost mermaid coming on home.

Yes. They should do that. That's a thing they should do. Something just for them. Won't it be lovely?

Squeezes and hands held are perfect, but she's still going to lean her forehead against his shoulder until she's feeling steady. "Oh right. Well. It is. The return on investment is crazy good. And I love you too."

Love is a good place to end, yes.

"Erm..." She's going to take a minute to try and keep the sass outta this. "Something about Jesus being there when someone's in trouble? Why?" Getting picked up and carried into the water was not on her to-do list. Not that she'll mind, but it's a surprise. She gasps, squirms a bit, then settles into his arms and wraps hers around him. "Was I in trouble?"

It would be a dream come true. Impossible and unimaginable are becoming obsolete every day. You never know what will happen next with these two.

Matt cherishes the feeling of her leaning on him. It's a sign of trust in him, support and a little surrender. "See? Practical." His grin is starting to get Cheshire. She should have known something would be up. Surprise!

"No. Maybe not this time," he laughs warmly as she settles. "If that's not comfortable there's always other options. See, I don't know if anyone's told you but you're delightful to carry." He might have told her that, actually.

Their ranges of likely behavior, separately and together, have certainly been expanding.

"So practical," she agrees. She's already surrendered nearly everything to him. Does one more little victory mean so much to him? Of course, it's a very nice sort of victory. Anything that brings them closer together is a very nice sort of thing.

Yes, she probably should have known something was up. If she hadn't been so busy concentrating on breathing and standing up, she would have noticed that Cheshire grin of his. Now, all that's left for her to do is kiss it. "I don't know how many people you think get to do this," she deadpans, "but the list is very exclusive, you know. But everyone agrees that I am delightful to carry."

Keen senses mean he is aware of the little things. They're cherished. Matt never wants to take any gesture from her for granted. It brings, and keeps, them close together.

Now that standing up is out of her concern she can worry about breathing. If he can't take that away in small increments, kiss by kiss. "I think," and he feigns really pondering this while swaying with the motion of the waves, carefully walking to further depths. "I think that there are three at the most." Verity deadpan makes him smile still.

The fact he cherishes so much of what she does has certainly done a lot to let her open up to him, to the true affection and trust between them that is the foundation of everything else.

Who needs to breathe? There are kisses to be had. He can have every molecule of air in her lungs if he wants, kiss by kiss, to take it from her. She loves and adores him, every inch, every drop of him. More than she loves air. (Fuck you, oxygen, everyone knows you're poison.) "Mm. Three?" She claims a few more kisses before following up with, "Who?"

It had been so long since anyone got to him anything close to the way Verity does. All it took was knowing she saw him as he was, in plain sight. For all the lies and careful act he puts on, he was needing the same way she was. Matt let her in and has never looked back.

Someone needs to breathe, eventually. Their kiss is flavored with the salt of the air and sea. There are so many ways to kiss and love this woman. Matt wants to find them all. "Maybe three. Uh. Clint?" He's guessing without any evidence. A wave threatens his balance enough to get him to bend his knees. Gotta be careful with the precious cargo. Though now it's lapping at his waist and splashing up onto Ver.

Well, the human lie detectors have to stick together, don't they? Who else ever going to understand what they go through?

True, she needs to let him breathe. Might as well get some air for herself too. The cold ocean water feels colder after the warmth of being held against him and has her shivering after every splash. "Hmm. I suppose I'd allow it in certain circumstances, but I don't remember it ever coming up with him." A hand leaves his shoulders to trail down into the water and flick a splash up against his chest.

He thought, perhaps deep understanding was not meant to be. That was before. It's all he can do to look back on where he has been and be grateful again and again where he is. Human lie detectors are in short supply as it is. They're operating on love and a buddy system.

"What--Aaah!" the reaction is a little exaggerated. That's what you call chilly there when he's not expecting it. Goosebumps texture his skin and might make it even more interesting to rest against. "It'd be a shame if you fell." No, Matt wouldn't. Ever. "I want to go farther but you don't have to. How about you just hang around."

Wait for it. He's got a plan. His strong arms hoist her higher. One leg up and over his shoulder while he's supporting her torso and arm, making sure there's a balance. "Giddyup?"

She thought the same thing, once. It's a time better left in the past. They've both come so far to find each other. Physically, emotionally, ecumenically, allegorically (but that's for each man to decide for himself). Love is lovely, but a buddy system is probably more practical for them. They both need the help.

Ver giggles, both at the exaggeration and the fact he's overdoing it. She always intended to warm him up again with a cuddle. There's no concern that she's going to fall; he would never allow that. "I don't mind going in with you," she points out while she runs her ocean-chilled hand down his chest. "I know how to swim."

And then there he goes again, moving her around like she's a doll he can pose. It takes her a little longer to figure out what he's doing this time, but eventually it clicks and she take hold of his arms so she can lean on them while she centers her weight on his shoulders and hooks her legs in place. "Hmm, should I offer you the carrot or the stick?"

Who on earth (or anywhere else) can say that there is a person you can turn to for perfect trust? Verity would never, ever be swayed or deceived or found by any threat of his. And Matt is a fixed place where he is for her. For love, for sanity it is a fantastic match.

Verity is literally all over him. It is like cuddling. "You don't mind. But do you want to?" he's gently teasing. It's going to be hard to not get wet in the water.

His arms are her's to hold. If she is a doll he's some kind of jungle gym. Or something. Their combined shadow cast on the water looks a little ominous. Not like he can see it. "I do like carrots..."

Very few people. But how many have put in as much work as they have? Too many people take love for granted, assuming it as a birthright. They know better, and they work harder.

Incorrect: she's not even able to reach half of him, nevermind be all over him. But it is like cuddling, in a way. Then again, most of their touching is these days. "I do. But it can wait. This is fun too, I don't usually get to be the tall one." She ruffles his hair affectionately before her hand dips to stroke his cheek. Someone's going with 'carrot'. "Besides, there's more touching this way."

She finds nothing ominous about their shadow. They're together, that can't possibly be bad.

Love is not a birthright. At least not from one person to another in every case. There are egos to try and get over, emotions and selves we have to fathom. Love elevates and improves his life in so many ways. Of course anything of this magnitude requires work. He will gladly do whatever it takes however hard or demanding. Matt Murdock isn't afraid of hard work anyway.

They no longer have a sense of what space is required or personal. His space is her space. "Are we almost as tall as Groot now?" Who is obviously the tallest of them all. Matt holds onto her smooth legs and takes a few more steps in the water.

Everything worth having is work. Even the things we're told we're born to. Earning something makes it sweeter. Earning his love has made her a better person.

Verity would argue that she has an excellent sense of personal space, only that her sense of her personal space has expanded to include Matt at all times. This is not a bad thing, in her opinion. After all, he gets all her space in turn. As tall as Groot? The question makes her laugh. "No, not really. He's like, twelve feet tall. We wouldn't be his height even if I was standing on your shoulders."

That said, she leans down to kiss to top of his head. "Don't worry, honey. I do love taller men, but you've got better hair."

Once you're in good with Matt Murdock, it's very, very difficult to be seen any other way. He has loved before. This is something so special. He's fulfilled by loving her and working both in kind.

"Twelve feet?" Okay, now he's laughing at himself. Big miss shoot. Groot is a tall son of a gun. That he knew. How tall was hard to place with how his weight is distributed. There's no heavy center.

Matt lifts his head. Her kiss makes him smile so much his eyes near slip shut. "Oh hair is what I have going on, sweetheart?" He's come to be about waist deep in the water, still sloshing around.

Fulfillment. Yes, that's a good word for what they have. They fill up the parts in each other that were empty for so long.

"Mm-hmm. But he usually crouches." Life amongst the humanoid races has taught Groot to diminish himself, she fears. It's hard to talk to him about that kind of thing. She worries for the big guy--he's strong and he's sweet, but wood is brittle and she's seen what happens to trees that are too rigid to bend in a storm. If a little wind can break them, what would a storm of emotions do?

If he's looking for more kisses, he's come to the right place. She'll drop another kiss on his forehead while his head is lifted up to her. "Yes." Then she nuzzles her nose into his hair. "I am a simple woman with simple tastes."

"That makes more sense." Crouched to best socialize, make eye contact. His friendship and he people he has surrounded himself with would make any bout of bad weather less horrible than it would be normally. Groot has people like Verity that look out for him in his best interest.

"You've got a great group of friends, Verity." Including that tree fellow but not at all limited to. Clint. Hunter. Their boss too.

She's only giving him more reasons to keep his head tilted up to her, to the sky if it means more kisses. "Then I'm so happy to inform you that, to my knowledge, Murdock men keep their hair for many, many years."

Groot's the sort of person very few people are naturally inclined to want to hurt. He's everybody's friend. They're lucky to know him.

"We do," she agrees. What's hers is his. All her friends are potentially his friends too, or else they're not really her friends. "I don't actually know everyone here, you know. Are they your friends, or do we have strangers wandering in?" She wouldn't mind if it were the latter.

Then he's only giving her more reasons to kiss kiss kiss him. "Oh yeah? That's a relief. Let's leave being bald to the Kingpin."

Any person that would wish to do Groot harm would not be allowed here. But if, oh if they were, he would be one of the most protected tree-like beings ever. Though he is more than capable of defending himself. He is so very good-natured and friendly. Who would have a problem with that?

That we he won't stop enjoying. Matt murmurs in approval. "...you don't? I thought you did. Uh. Some of them I don't know. Frea brought a friend. Hunter too I think?" More mouths to gobble and drink up all they provided. And a good thing. he was starting to think they'd gone overboard. "I guess we can't help it if we throw that good of a party." That people want to join in.

Matt's hands smooth over her legs in return for those each press. So good, so sweet. "Amen to that."

He then laughs. "So tell me, how's the view up there?"

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