[ A (relatively) quiet booth isn't his usual, but it's just what he needs after the day he's had. He guides himself to his seat and presses up as close to the wall as he can. Maybe it's his senses or his instincts as a minotaur, but it gives him some degree of comfort as he presses his hand to the cold stone. Connor had died in a park. No walls there. No safety.
Matt sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He hasn't even scouted out the bar yet. On a good day he could tell how many people were in it, how many of them were drunk, and how many of them were faking. Tonight, all he knows is people aren't paying him much attention, which means they either get monsters frequently, or Natasha's bribed the bartender. Normally, Matt would be able to tell which.
He's a mess. But Natasha's an Avenger, she wouldn't take him anywhere dangerous, would she? ]
You're getting sloppy, Murdock. [ He mutters to himself, easily picturing Foggy's reprimanding tone. He can't help it. Every time his mind wanders, he's back home, thinking of how Connor isn't there anymore. That was his fault. ]
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Matt sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He hasn't even scouted out the bar yet. On a good day he could tell how many people were in it, how many of them were drunk, and how many of them were faking. Tonight, all he knows is people aren't paying him much attention, which means they either get monsters frequently, or Natasha's bribed the bartender. Normally, Matt would be able to tell which.
He's a mess. But Natasha's an Avenger, she wouldn't take him anywhere dangerous, would she? ]
You're getting sloppy, Murdock. [ He mutters to himself, easily picturing Foggy's reprimanding tone. He can't help it. Every time his mind wanders, he's back home, thinking of how Connor isn't there anymore. That was his fault. ]