It was a little after ten when the front door opened again. Taryn entered and peered into the dining area, as if afraid what they might find there. As soon as their head popped into the entryway, Maktov and Thalia turned to them.
The two had gravitated to the same side of the table, their workstations side by side. Though, they sat a little away from their laptops, in front of a box of delivery pizza. A smaller box of breadsticks and a couple sodas cluttered the table, a 'safe' distance from the tech. Both adults gave off the air of fairly put-out cats, their agitation soothed by a grudging treat.
"Taryn!" Thalia shot up from the table, approaching her child. "Come, give us your opinion."
"Alright..." Taryn shrugged, walking further into the dining room with an eyebrow raised.
"We're trying to choose a design," Thalia said as she motioned toward the two computers. A variety of sketches displayed on the monitors in two styles. "Which do you think is more engaging?"
"I don't know why you're asking them. This isn't something we're making for mass consumption," sighed Maktov, still holding a half-eaten slice of pizza in one hand and a napkin in the other. With the onset of night, the shadows around him seemed larger and deeper. Though irritation mingled in the aura around him, making the shadows seem threadbare and scraggly.
Taryn ignored him and eyed the two options. The first appeared more fluid, with a style a bit lax on anatomy but emphasized with emotional expressions. A few examples of poses solidified their assumption. The other option felt more contained, with an emphasis on angles and small details and action lines. Dynamic and complicated. Taryn shrugged a shoulder, glancing from their mom to their guest. "Why not both?"
"Animating the two different styles will take too long," Maktov groused after swallowing his bite of pizza. He swiped the napkin across his lips before rising and approaching the others. "Plus we want some form of cohesion."
Taryn glanced at their mom as she sighed. Thalia stood, staring at the two styles, frustration furrowing her brow. "We're still struggling with a story, so I figured if we could settle on a style, we could develop a story from there."
"I still don't see why you can't make it, like, two different worlds meeting. This is a short thing, right? So, put a line down the middle and animate the two halves with their respective style." The teen took a seat, picking up a pencil as they scratched the idea onto a piece of paper, mimicking both styles the best they could. Between the two, they made a simple, thick line. "They bust through the barrier, spewing both worlds into each other. Which could upset these two. But, like, as they argue, the worlds around them mesh and something makes them realize their mess just... evolved into a new way of living."
When they were done, Taryn pushed away from the table. Maktov and Thalia were quiet, both staring at Taryn's sloppy doodles on the sketchbook. The teenager didn't wait for their decision, however, and bid both goodnight through a yawn while heading to their bedroom.
After a moment's thought, Thalia took a seat at her laptop, fingers flying over the keys. She quickly typed up an outline, vaguely tagging how long each mini scene should take. She didn't even realize Maktov took a seat nearby, until she pushed away from the laptop to give her words a once over.
"It could work," Maktov admitted, after reading over what she wrote. "Or I could just be tired of debating what to do."
"Same," Thalia sighed, her palms rubbing into her eyes. Though her headache from earlier in the evening had dissipated - thanks to getting a meal in her - her sight blurred from exhaustion. Just typing up the outline had been a chore, with her fingers feeling clumsy and heavy.
After a moment's consideration, Maktov snorted, "The most we got done tonight was thanks to your kid's suggestion."
"Yes, well, you're pretty picky."
"As if you're not," he returned.
Thalia scoffed. Maktov stared at her a second, in contemplation, before muttering something about taking care of his plate. She watched him move, picking up his plate - and surprisingly hers - to deposit them in the kitchen.
She stared at the table, considering putting the pizza away in the fridge when her phone chimed. Thalia plucked it from the table, unlocking it and tapping her e-mail. Nothing of immediate consequence, she thumbed to a different app out of habit.
A smile slowly curled across her lips as a compilation of funny animal moments auto-played on her dash.
"What are you grinning at?" Maktov asked as he re-entered from her kitchen.
"Animal videos."
"Should've guessed." Maktov's words weren't quite scornful, as he skirted around the table, taking up his seat beside her again. She could feel his gaze peek over her shoulder as the video continued.
It was his soft puff of laughter that made her turn, childishly commenting, "Ooh, was that a laugh?"
Thalia wished she hadn't turned. Almost instantly, her gaze flicked to his half-cocked grin, where his teeth glinted against his shadowy features. Heat skipped across her cheeks. Then, she realized how close they were. He hovered near her, hunched close to see the video. Her turning to address him brought her closer to him than she'd ever been.
The shadows around him seemed to still and pull in close to him as he stared down at Thalia. His own attention fell to her lips, watching her smug smile fade to slightly parted lips as she stared. He could feel her gaze trailing over his teeth, his mouth, making prickles of heat coast over his body. Not that he was much better, staring at her lips, before both flicked gazes to each other's eyes.
The video continued on in the background.
For a second, Maktov considered leaning forward. Feel her lips skirt over his. Imagining the sounds she would make. He cleared his throat and leaned back, before his body could move without his input. "I should get my things together and head home."
"Oh, right." Thalia replied, softly. It made sense. They were both too tired to continue working, so he should be eager to leave. Honestly, he should have left a long time ago, she realized.
Maktov moved to gather up his equipment, unplugging the wires and carefully putting things into his bag. Muscles tightened along his back and arms, trying to stave off his own confusing feelings. He knew college held an assortment of exciting hormonal interactions for fresh faces, but he was well into adulthood.
Awkward tension hung heavy in the air. The moments dragged out as he fastidiously wrapped his wires and arranged his notebooks. Thalia tried to ignore the heaviness as she tapped and scrolled along social media. She wasn't paying attention to anything on the screen, though.
Finally, he stood straight, his bag hoisted to his shoulder. "How about we each storyboard our respective halves, up until the barrier gets broken? It should take me a few days for mine."
Thalia nodded, mentally picking out times she could work on her segment of work. "Okay, once that's done, we can meet up again."
"Alright." He shifted the bag on his shoulder, edging toward the front door. Thalia got to her feet, leading the way back to the door.
The awkward tension weighed heavier in the air. Thalia couldn't shake the feeling he didn't quite want to leave, either. She shook the feeling away, chalking it up to inexplicable wishful thinking. It was nice to have another adult in the house, after all. It was nothing more than enjoyment of a peer's company, even if that company annoyed her.
At the front door, she tried to rebound from her sense of disappointment, overcorrecting as she jarringly laughed. "Stay much longer and you might have to sleep over."
Maktov inclined his head to her and, not for the first time, she agonized over the impassivity of his features. There were moments she thought she figured him out. The shift of the shadowy aura, his body language, the way his eyes changed shape. In this moment, he gave her nothing but a subtly cocked head and shadows.
He probably thought her an awkward fool.
"Well," he said, slowly opening the door. "Good night."
When the door securely shut behind him, Thalia turned and pressed her back against it. Pressing her face into her hands, she groaned between her fingers. "Oh my gods, why did I say that?"
On the other side of her door, Maktov hadn't gotten far. He inclined his head, faintly hearing Thalia give a telltale groan of embarrassment. Though he fought it, a smile tilted at his lips. He couldn't stop his shoulders shaking with a quiet chuckle as he stepped into the night.
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