It turned out online messages and video calls were not fine.
At least, not for Maktov and Thalia.
The other group members sufficed with claiming duties in singular messages in the group chat. Maktov and Thalia, on the other hand, were workshopping the story and the designs. For Thalia, it was enjoyable to dabble in a medium other than app games or - when she was lucky - video games.
In fact, in her earnestness, she came up with three rough outlines.
...Maktov had problems with each one. Too detailed, too much story for such a short timeframe, too "juvenile," too derivative.
Then, when Maktov offered up some character designs as inspiration, it was Thalia's turn to be critical.
Frustrated and annoyed with one another, they both agreed to meet to hash out an idea face-to-face. Thalia's house was chosen as the battleground.
The hours leading up to Maktov's arrival, Thalia rushed around her home, tidying it in an agitated spree. Junkmail being shoved into a bin for shredding later. Bananas a little too ripe baked into a hasty banana bread. The odd, empty bottle of soda - left over from Taryn's time alone while Thalia went to school - thrown out. Dirty laundry washed and haphazardly stashed into her bedroom closet.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were excited." From the couch in the living room, holding their cell phone casually in their hand, Taryn grinned at their mom.
Thalia paused in the entryway to the living room, having returned from stowing another load of laundry in Taryn's closet.
"I think you mean annoyed," retorted Thalia, wrinkling her nose. Maktov was worse than any commissioner she had worked with in the past. Exacting standards, particular tastes, less-than-stellar communication abilities. Ugh, every text of his grated on her!
"Oh, right," Thalia snorted, that grin growing on their lips, "Because I totally jump for my phone when someone annoying texts me."
A knock on the front door interrupted the mother-child back-and-forth. Lips pressed thin, Thalia gave Taryn a look before going to the door. She regretted being so open about her interest in Maktov - or 'Toothy' as Taryn called him - with her child. But she didn't realize he'd ever make an appearance at her home and it was too late to bemoan it now.
Pasting a friendly smile on and bracing herself, Thalia opened the door.
As the door opened, revealing Thalia and her home beyond, Maktov focused on the job at hand. He was here to talk about the project and, hopefully, make some damn progress already. Something about this human left knots in his stomach, though. He attributed it to their nearly antagonistic conversations over the last couple days.
Somewhere, deep inside, he knew it was more than annoyance, but he pushed the thought aside as he trudged in at Thalia's beckoning. Treading slowly, his eyes drank in the details of the home. It wasn't commercial-level clean, which didn't bother him. Though there was certainly a sense of scattered thought when it came to decoration. Or, perhaps they merely had better things to do than focus on a cohesive interior.
Flicking over the photos hanging on the wall, Maktov managed to convince himself he was only idly curious. He certainly wasn't keeping an eye out for snapshots of romantic kisses, telltale anniversary photos, or anything else of the like.
That would be utterly inappropriate.
Though she couldn't follow his pupils, he seemed to size up everything as he stepped into her apartment. There was a precision to his steps that made Thalia bristle, just slightly, with preparedness. Her home was clean, if cluttered, and decently sized. It wasn't a small starter apartment, by any means, but not extravagant. It certainly wasn't a house. Though, she wouldn't put it past his pickiness to make some critical remark.
Instead of a barbed comment, Maktov glanced to Thalia and nodded to the bag slung over his shoulder. "Where should I set up?"
The set of her shoulders eased in the face of a reasonable question. She motioned toward the newly cleaned off kitchen table - to the left of the front door - where she had already set up her laptop and screen tablet. Without a comment, he began laying out his tools of the trade.
From further in the apartment, Taryn's footfalls closed in on them. Thalia sighed through her nose and made her way to her laptop, intent to get started. Quietly, she hoped her teenager took this moment to be tactful. For once.
As soon as Taryn popped through the entryway, Thalia's stomach lurched with dread. They glanced at Maktov, a scrutinizing look in their eyes, before glancing at their mom. Their pleasant smile turned into a shit-eating grin, eyebrows waggling and eyes glittering with delight. Before Thalia could manage a patented 'don't you even' look, Taryn had disrupted the silence, "So this is Mx. Toothy?"
Maktov's gaze snapped to Taryn, obviously taken by surprise. He flicked a glance at Thalia, eyes shifted to mimic a raised eyebrow. "I see my reputation precedes me."
Thalia groaned, pressing her cold hand over her eyes as a flush clawed across her face. She had never wanted to sink into the floor more. All she could do was listen to the two as they carried on with niceties.
"I prefer Maktov," he said, turning toward the teeanger. "He/him. And you?"
The teen leaned against a wall, arms crossed and an appraising look in their eyes. Despite the cover of amusement, Maktov got the distinct impression the kid was weighing him up. "Taryn, they/them."
"You are certainly... bright," was all Maktov could find to say. And, indeed, Taryn was a beacon of gaudy vivid color. Neon green hair, neon fingernail polish, neon accessories sprinkled along a black outfit, and shoes so bright they nearly glowed.
"Thank you," Taryn preened, hand pressed to their chest. "I am highly intelligent and intuitive."
Maktov inclined his head toward Thalia, mild amusement coloring his words. "I take it this is your child."
"Yes." Thalia looked up from her slump against the table, face flushed. A pouty expression pursed at her lips, making Maktov's shoulders tense and tingle. Two sides of him warred, briefly, over how soft her lips appeared versus how hypocritical it was of him to focus on such a thing, after their first spat.
A car honked twice outside, interrupting Maktov's internal battle. Taryn started for the door, waving a hand casually behind themselves as they went. "Well, I'll leave you kids to it. I got places to be!"
"Wait!" Thalia jumped up, closing the distance between herself and Taryn. "Where are you going?"
Maktov tensed, watching the two. He'd seen familiar scenes play out between parents and children, ending in a blow-up.
"The mall, then check out that new superhero movie." From Taryn's half-smile and roll of their eyes, this wasn't a new conversation. Holding up their phone, they showed its 100% battery life. "I'll text you if plans change."
"And who will you be with?" Thalia prompted.
"Cherie, Pheebs, and Reaux. Maybe a few others."
She nodded, storing each name away for safekeeping until Taryn's night out was over. "And what's the code phrase if you're afraid to let on you want to be picked up?"
At this, the teenager stood straighter, voice taking on the tone of one reading a script. "Since you're at the store, pick me up some Rocky Road."
Thalia nodded, pleased. The code had been created precisely to make it seem as if she were just in the area of wherever Taryn and their friends hung out. Pressing a quick kiss to Taryn's forehead, Thalia softly added, "Alright, text me if you're going to be late. Be safe."
At another honking prompt, Taryn took off, the front door closing shut behind them. For a second, Thalia sighed and stared at the closed door. Then, slowly, she turned to Maktov, realizing with mounting anxiety they were alone. When they agreed to meet up, she'd never considered this factor. Her heart shuddered, but she forced her feet to trod calmly bat to her seat, despite how his eyes followed her.
When she had seated herself, she turned to him and pursed her lips. His attention reminded her of an overly alert cat, tracking a mouse across a yard. "What are you staring at?"
"I'm trying to figure out why you spoke to your kid about my teeth," Maktov shot back. Beneath the bite of his words, there was a strange eagerness to see that pink flush nip across her cheeks.
And rewarded he was, as slight color dusted across Thalia's face at his remark.
"Let's just get to character design and story," huffed Thalia as she pulled up a notebook and sketchbook with her ideas. "Now, I know you said you hated fairy tale stor-"
A sudden and loud groan left Maktov's mouth, making Thalia jump. She never heard him above a conversational decibel. He threw his head back and covered his face with his hands, glasses propped atop his forehead. "We're never going to get anywhere if you keep trying to revive dead ideas."
"It's not reviving! It's refining!"
Her nearly instant retort made his lips twitch. He heaved a sigh, shifting to lean on the table. One hand remained over his mouth, elbow braced on the table, as his free hand repositioned his glasses. "Fine, tell me your idea."
Thalia hated herself for watching him so closely, but there was something in the way he moved - in the way the aura of darkness around him shifted - that taunted her. A languid precision to every action. He didn't seem to bristle, this time, but his hand covering his mouth raised concerns. The only answer she could come up with was self-consciousness on his part.
"By the way, I'm sorry." Thalia's eyes fell to her notebooks, fingers fiddling with a curled edge of paper.
"What?"
"You're covering your mouth." Without looking up, she motioned to his face, where his hand clasped against his lips. Faint snatches of the other day, of his irritation, pricked through her thoughts. This was a late apology, she realized. It may amount to nothing, after their petulant texting up to this point. She continued, soft and penitent. "I'm sorry, if what I did the other day was a sore point."
"Oh," he blinked, but his hand remained over his lips. Against his palm, his lips curled into a teasing grin she couldn't see. "No, I'm just making sure I don't distract you further."
Thalia's attention snapped to his face, lips thinned and eyes narrowing. He was watching her intently and she got the distinct feeling he was teasing her. A flare of heat licked down her spine at that thought.
With a bit too much force, she flipped her notebook open, finger trailing along her notes as she distracted herself. "Anyway, let's talk story..."
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