"I thought there was enough of a chance that you would that I wasn't about to risk it." Matt did believe in Kate's heart. He did think that push come to shove, she wouldn't let even her worst enemy die. Leaping in front of Fisk hadn't just been to prevent Kate from doing it, that was just one of several reasons, but it was part of his split-second decision making. He would always rather take a hit than risk someone he cared about deeply. He wouldn't always make choices that weren't bloody, and violent, and dark. He knew that about himself. He wanted to think though that there was still some light in him too, though.

Maybe there had to be, if someone like Kate wanted to stick around.

A soft laugh escaped him at her mentioning the dancing. She had tread a little on his toes, but he didn't mind. "You weren't that bad. You made me think you couldn't manage anything without a limbo stick with how you were talking."

Matt's unfurled fingers hovered on her cheek, lightly touching, a silent request for permission. She didn't pull him away. He let his fingertips, with a touch so sensitive that it could trace pencil lines on a paper and commit a picture to memory, glide over her features. He felt her forehead and cheekbones, noted the tip of her nose and chin. Felt over her eyelids.

He saw her, in the way that made sense to him.

There was a small smile on his face, a sense of peace in the bubble of a gathering storm. His voice was ragged, but in a way that mimicked worn leather. Bendable but not easily broken. "So that's what you look like. Hi you."