Lights were on then. Enough for Frank to notice his build. He was surprised to find a slight smile on his lips that Frank actually had noticed. Matt had a suspicion that Frank probably didn't care what he looked like, but everyone liked to be admired, even if it was just for a work out. He hoped his scars weren't obvious, but he could attribute all of them to accidents dealing with blindness. Most people were happy to accept that and move on to avoid offending. He had a second suspicion that Frank wouldn't care about scars either.
"I just thought you deserved a fair trial. Everyone does. I wasn't about to let them manipulate the facts on you," Matt said by way of explanation for his interest in Frank's case. It wasn't that he felt partly responsible for the vigilante and his treatment. Wasn't that he was worried that one day he might be sitting in the same seat as Frank.
"Huh. You signed up after the attack? Lot of people wouldn't do that. There's a certain amount of bravery involved if you went out the next day," Matt pointed out. "Guess I should thank you for fighting for our freedom. You're a good man Frank." Matt surprised himself with his words, but it was mostly true. He'd never hurt anyone who hadn't deserved to be hurt. He just needed morals.
Matt slung his shirt over the headboard and laid back against the bed for about five seconds before quickly getting back up with a sharp intake of breath like he'd been stabbed. Sandpaper. The sheets might as well have been fucking sandpaper on his skin. This place was microscopic hell and no one else was sensitive enough to want to scream like he did. He grabbed his shirt. At least that material wasn't quite as rough. More like sleeping in a hessian sack.