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Rosalind Sharpe did not raise her daughter to be soft. Or sentimental. Or easily distracted. Francine is at Columbia Law for a reason, which is not to start a book club with the classmates who mostly just want to know her because of who her mother is. (They’re usually not people she wants to know that well, anyway—one of them made a crack about Matt Murdock, who clearly outclassed him in every way, being a walking diversity hire, and she snapped back that if he really wanted to see a future pity hire, he should try looking in a mirror sometime.) She’s not usually rude without reason, and she’s accepted an invitation to a party with classmates once, but that’s about it.

(After, her roommate had teased her about her complete inability to stomach alcohol while Francine stared at herself in the mirror and gargled mouthwash. The back of her throat felt burned from stomach acid, but at least she couldn’t taste the grease from the couple slices of pizza she ate anymore.)

She’s fine. She studies hard and gets good grades and talks to her mother once a week or so to hear the updated list of every way she’s a disappointment, and she buys mouthwash in multi-packs and hasn’t had this much trouble keeping food in her stomach since high school and sometimes her heart skips beats weirdly but she’s fine. This is under control. She just has to make it through Columbia Law with Rosalind breathing down her neck the entire time, then she can go work for her mother’s firm and be made partner and become Razor Sharpe 2.0, and in the meantime, she can start digging into her winter wardrobe even though the outside temperatures have barely dipped below the 70s yet.

The first time she wears a sweater to one of the classes she has with Matt Murdock, she could swear he gives her a—well, not a look, obviously, but it’s like every time she glances in his direction, he has his head tilted in her direction, which is—okay, maybe she’s just paranoid, that’s ridiculous. She shakes her head and goes back to taking notes.

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[ Francine wasn't the first person he had identified as having an eating disorder. Over the years had crossed paths with a number of women and a few men who were hiding their struggle, one type of many illnesses and difficulties he knew about even when they were meant to stay secret. In Francine's case he could tell by smell alone. The mix of stomach acid and the even stronger constant mouthwash smell when she breathed was far too obvious to his nose to ignore. Even the sweat on her skin had a different chemical balance from most girls. When he focused on her sounds he discovered her heartbeat was already irregular. It was clear she had the disorder for quite some time now and if there was any doubt her body mass told all.

Matt had done what he could in the past by expressing concern to someone who might help. Of course he had to come up with a cover for how he knew someone wasn't feeling exactly well but typically telling a teacher or a school nurse that he overheard someone vomiting in the restroom or talking down to themselves worked. In high school it was easy for teachers to reach out to parents. In undergrad however it was much more difficult. His peers were adults who didn't have to show up when someone from the counseling office asked them to stop by. He doubted law school students would be any easier to help. In fact if anyone could find loopholes and talk their way out of stepping onto a scale it was one of them. That's why this time he makes up his mind after sitting behind Francine Sharpe for a few sessions that he'll try to talk to her directly and at least attempt to convince her he was someone who was willing to listen to her troubles if she'd tell them.

After class ends he hurries to close his laptop and shove it in his book bag. He nearly forgets to pick up his cane as he stands and steps down a stair to put a hand on the edge of the desk where she's been sitting in front of him for the last hour. ]

Hi! [ Time for that smile that he's been told can charm. ] Uh. Francine right?

[Or maybe she isn't paranoid and he is out to talk to her. Okay.

It is a very charming smile, it's true, and she doesn't need an irregular heart rhythm for it to speed up a little when he turns it on her. Not that she'd admit it.] Yeah. You're Matt? [She finishes packing away her own laptop with a little more care than he did and stands up, one hand braced on the chair just in case because she hasn't eaten anything that stayed in her stomach since breakfast yesterday and sometimes she gets headrushes.] Did you... need something?

Yeah! [ He nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Okay slow down Murdock. You can do this. ] I've been meaning to partner up and study with someone this semester and I'm pretty sure we have a lot of the same teachers and classes. Would you be interested?

[...Well. There's no reason to say no, really. From what she's noticed, he seems to more or less know his stuff, and he hasn't done anything so far that's made her revise her initial impression of him probably being a decent guy. Plus, it's not exactly a marriage proposal, and if she's learned anything from Rosalind, it's how to break off something that's not working out.]

I don't think I've ever been accused of being a great study partner, but we could give it a try.

[ He shrugs and grins. ] It's okay. I'm not exactly the best study partner ever either. Nobody else can read my flashcards and vice versa.

But might has well try right? When would you be free?

How does tomorrow sound? Seven? We could meet at the library. [She slides on the shoulder strap of her bag.] You need my number?

Works for me! I'll reserve one of the small study rooms.

Uh yeah, if you don't mind... [ He fumbles with his bag and finds his phone in its usual pocket. This was going so smoothly his heart was leaping with his thoughts of victory. Yes! He can do this. He can help her and get some studying in while he's at it. He holds his phone out. ] Name and number please.

Sure. [In less than a minute, Francine has him in her contacts list and sends a quick placeholder text to herself so she has his number, too.] I have to get going, but call or text if something comes up. [She's pretty deft at disappearing quickly for someone who definitely wasn't trained by ninjas.

And she's not all that easy to catch in person for the rest of the day or most of the next one, partly because her mother decides to check in and object to the fact that Francine's been rejecting someone-or-other who's the nephew of a partner in some prominent firm or other, and obviously Francine doesn't need to rely solely on these connections for her future career (she's a Sharpe, after all), but there's no need to burn bridges without good reason, either. Well, he's kind of an asshole, Francine does not point out. Instead, she reluctantly agrees not to blow the guy off next time he tries to talk to her and then sits through the two-thousandth iteration of the Don't Disappoint Me speech because that's always a crowdpleaser.

Basically, she's not in a great mood when she heads to the library to meet with Matt, and she's had a headache most of the day, which isn't helping. At least she's not dehydrated, because she's been drinking plenty of water today to make up for the fact that she mysteriously hasn't had much of an appetite for anything aside from the plain salad she had the other day before Rosalind called.

He's there before she is, so she makes sure to say hey on her way through the door so he knows it's her coming in and starts putting some stuff down on the table.] So what do you want to start with?

[ Matt breathes a small sigh of relief when he recognizes her making her way towards the study room. She stands to benefit too so there's no reason for her not to show up but his worry over her health has him worrying over other things unintentionally. When she enters he looks up to the doorway and grins when she greets him. ]

How about civil procedure since we have a quiz next week? I was just putting together a list to memorize. Here. You can read it on my computer.

[ He lifts his laptop and turns it so the screen faces her. As usual he has been thorough in his work.

Matt takes a moment to check on her, first listening to her heart. That irregularity in her pulse had him most worried. Then her scent, expecting the usual telltale signs. It seemed she ate and judging by the sound of her stomach it was several hours into being digested but he doubted it was a full meal. Something is off. Is she sweating less than she should? Dehydration perhaps? ]

[She glances over what he has so far, adding a detail or two here and there, blissfully unaware that he's listening in on her bodily processes like a creeper.] Yeah, this looks good. I think--

[Ding. Francine sighs and mutters something like hang on while she digs her phone out of her pocket to see a text from the nephew, asking her out to dinner, which is. Fuck.

Suddenly, it does not feel like the remains of that salad are going to be sticking around in her stomach for much longer. Time for a hasty exit to the nearest bathroom with relative privacy.] --Shit, sorry, I need to step out for a second.

Oh. Are you alright?

[ Matt frowns and teeters on the edge of his seat. He knows exactly what's happening. He can hear her stomach suddenly getting upset. What was with the text? Something or someone has her stressed. He wishes he had his sight-
other people can speak up easily and say "you don't look so well." He can't exactly say "your stomach is gurgling violently." ]

Yeah, I'll just--be back in a minute. [Hopefully. She's a little tempted to just claim food poisoning or something and cancel the study session, but she's not exactly thrilled by the idea of her main impression on him being sorry to bail on you, I have to go be violently ill. Not that it isn't what's happening now, but still.

There's a handicapped restroom not too far, which is where she ends up going--single toilet, more privacy. After gagging up the contents of her stomach, she uses up a little travel bottle of mouthwash she'd started keeping in her bag for emergencies. When she's done, she splashes some water on her face and reconsiders bailing. She'd feel bad about it, but honestly, she's kind of exhausted. Besides, it's not like he couldn't find another study buddy if he really needs one, right?

That's still pretty much her train of thought by the time she makes it back to the room, somewhere around ten minutes later.] --Hey. So I hate to do this, but maybe we should postpone? I think I picked up a bug somewhere, and I'd hate to get you sick.

[ Halfway through waiting he started to wonder if this was going to happen. When she enters again and starts talking about postponing he's kick to get to his feet, the chair he was just sitting in groaning against the floor as it slid back. ]

You're sick? Ah! Let me walk you back to your dorm or to the campus clinic.

[ He bites his tongue, praying he doesn't sound far too overeager to help. Still, it's perfectly within reason isn't it? The fact she ran out the door and returned saying she has a bug highly implies that she's suffering from some kind of nausea or indigestion, something serious enough for concern. ]

Well, that would kind of throw a wrench in the whole 'not getting you sick' plan I had. [It was a great plan, a very thoughtful plan--or, you know, it would be if she had anything that could possibly be passed on to someone else.

She shoves her stuff back into her bag.] I'll be fine on my own.

I don't mind! I mean.

[ Well that came out funny. He's coming up with this on the fly but judging by her packing pace she's going to run if he can't hold her attention. ]

I won't catch it if you don't touch me, and uh judging by the lack of sniffles you're not going to sneeze. I'd just prefer to be sure that you make it back alright. Most 'bugs' that make you run out of a room are the riskier kind.

[ And he's rambling at this rate. He closes his mouth and forces a smile, praying for good results. ]

[Honestly, she'd still rather just be on her own, but she's also, as previously established, exhausted, and the path of least resistance when he's apparently this determined is to just let him walk her to her dorm and then get on with her life.

She sighs.] I don't need an escort, but if you want to walk with me, I guess I can't stop you.

[ Matt guesses by her tone that she's at least a little exasperated with him fussing over her but he can't ignore the way her heart pumps like the heart of someone far older and frailer would. He has no idea if she's noticed a weakness or lack of energy but for all he knows she really could have difficulty getting across campus. He shoves his belongings into his back as fast as he can and unfolds his cane with a quick snap. ]

Alright. Let's go. Which dorm do you live in? Or are you off campus?

Furnald Hall. [So, not a long walk, really. She'd probably make there okay on her own.

Francine holds the door open for him. Seems like kind of a waste to leave the room after he booked it, but it's his call, she guesses.] Where'd housing put you? [It's mostly small talk. If he's close, though, then at least he wouldn't have to go too far out of his way.]

[ He follows her out the door and turns to her with a half smile like he had just forgotten what nice thing he was going to say to her. ]

Really? That's funny. I- I'm in Furnald Hall too!

[ How had he not realized? Sure he didn't have her sounds or scent memorized but he should have caught that sooner. It would have made this a lot easier to begin with too. This is the sort of thing Stick would have smacked him on the head for mistaking. Not like the old man would have approved of him using his 'gifts' to help a classmate with this type of problem. ]

[...Huh. At least he's not going out of his way. (But there goes her plan to gracefully part ways at the building.)

Maybe he can't see it, but there's a smile on her face that's somewhere between amused and bemused that translates into her voice when she speaks.] --Well, why don't I walk you home, then?

Edited 2017-09-30 00:43 (UTC)

[ He laughs and shoots her that bright grin again. ] Hey. Thanks, I really appreciate it!

[ Small talk, small talk. Walking in silence would be too awkward right? ]

Any idea what you're going to do once you've got your degree and you're out of here?

[From the way she tenses a little at the question, this isn't exactly the most comfortable of small talk topics for her.] Join my mother's firm, probably. [She's carefully neutral--not sounding happy about the prospect but not unhappy, either. It's just kind of inevitable.] What about you?

[ He doesn't really need super senses to notice how different her reaction is from most fellow students when they talk about their future plans. Some people know, some people don't, but generally they don't... what is that? Dread their future. Matt moves the conversation right along. ]

I'll probably get an internship at a firm. But what I really want is to start my own private office someday down in Hell's Kitchen. It's where I grew up.

I used to live there. Before my parents divorced. [It feels like another life, honestly, and she was pretty young, so.] I was too young to remember much, though.

[Good small talk, A+.] Were you planning to specialize in something?

Oh really? Do you ever go down there? [ The way she said she left makes it sound like she hadn't stepped foot in that part of the city for years. ]

Ah yeah. Most likely criminal defense and property. Someone needs to help the tenants who happened to rent from the wrong landlord.

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threw in a timeskip since she was rushing off anyway.

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