It's something to do with that celebration. The masks, or the... ( he doesn't really want to put words to it, but he can still smell the rancid copper of blood and flesh that had been passed around like hors d'oeuvres, even though that was a good day ago. he knows Elektra didn't consume any after the spirit display, but that doesn't mean she's safe from whatever is happening.

because she'd been forced to consume it before. Matt hates the implication of that, that there's something inside her now that can pull her away from him, no matter how much either of them try to fight it. but feeding into that panic won't help either of them now. he'll worry about it later. he'll worry about it when she's safe.

she's not the only one aware of attention in their direction. his fingers tense, slightly, as he pays in mind just how close the celebration seems to be getting. and despite everything, despite the bruises on bare feet and blood in the air, Elektra still falls into step with music that neither of them can hope to shut out. even as she holds him closer and whispers in his ear, a part of her is still with the celebration. )

They'll forget us once we're gone. We just have to leave before they catch up. ( Matt has no idea what might happen when they do. he doesn't want to find out, either. ) Who cares what they want. It's what you want, sweetheart.