Sveta didn't talk about Bo very often. She still thought of her as a little sister, even though she was technically an adult now, too.

>>“So she’s still there?”

"Yeah." she nodded. There was more to the story, with the Matchmaker and all, but she did not really want to get into it. Instead, she asked Matt about his own siblings.

>>“You know, hand-me-downs. Lots of fights. It was good at times, though. And it’s a good conversation starter to say that I have as many siblings as I do.”

"That's true" she grinned. It did make for good conversation, especially for someone like her, who could not even imagine that much hustle and bustle in one house. The closest experience she had was Xavier's... but those kids were not exactly her siblings.

>>“This is it,”

They pulled into a parking garage, and Sveta got out of the car. Matt did not live very far from his workplace. Sveta looked around curious, wondering what kind of a 'place' he had. One could tell a lot about someone from their home. It was a little strange, going there since they barely knew each other, but she had to admit, she was curious.

Siblings could be a tricky thing. Some people kept in touch with theirs, and others had really poor relationships. Matt fell somewhere in the middle, given all of his experiences with his various siblings. The conversation had made him realize that he really needed to call his sister, though. That would be something he could do once Svetlana left.

He had pulled them into the parking garage, which wouldn’t say a whole lot about what his apartment was actually like. Apartments tended to say a lot about people; it was like seeing into their brain just a little bit. What sorts of things they displayed, how clean they were, what they kept in their fridge. All those little things made up a person. Matt didn’t have people over often, so he wasn’t usually too concerned about stuff like that, but having Svetlana over made him a little nervous. He’d only just met her, after all, and he hadn’t had time to clean.

He stepped out of the car and locked it, expecting that Svetlana would follow him. Unless he’d completely scared her off and she was going to use the opportunity to run, anyway.

Matt walked through the garage and over to the elevator on the side. He punched a button and the door opened right away, which was rather nice. Things seemed to be going well, in terms of travel speed. He stepped inside and made room for Svetlana to do the same after him as he punched in the button for the seventh floor.

“Do you keep in touch with your sister?” he asked, continuing the earlier conversation as the door shut on the outside world. The box would soon start moving and take them upstairs. “And, you know, I still don’t know your last name.”

They moved to an elevator from the garage. Seventh floor. Sveta leaned back against the wall of the elevator as they started moving up. It was a typical New York building, the kind that a guy like Matt could afford. Haven was better, but she had also seen a lot worse.

>>“Do you keep in touch with your sister?... And, you know, I still don’t know your last name.”

Sveta chuckled at the last comment, and held out a hand.

"Svetlana Sergeyeva" she smiled at him "This technically still counts as knowing my fzll name before you take me to your place. In case you were wondering." There were certain lines people liked to draw for themselves, after all. Hopefully, he'd return the favor. She didn't know his last name either.

"As for my sister... I check on her sometimes. For a while she stayed with the... woman who helped me come here. But now she lives on her own." she smirked "They grow up so fast."

Svetlana Sergeyeva. What a Russian name - very fitting. They both had full names that used the same letter, too. “Matías Morales,” he replied, sticking his hand out for her to shake in order to seal the deal. Before they had been to each other’s home, they knew one another’s full name. That was the usual requirement, wasn’t it? It was a good way to start, anyway. “Does knowing your full name make me any less creepy?” he asked for further clarification.

She talked then about her sister, and how she was off on her own now. As much as most siblings stuck together when they were young, they did grow up and need their own space. “I know the feeling,” Matt said with a sigh. “My younger sister is a lawyer now and my brother’s engaged. It moves fast if you don’t watch it closely.”

The elevator dinged as reached the seventh floor, and Matt stepped off, again, making sure that Svetlana was following. It wasn’t too far down the hallway, so they reached his doorway quickly. It was a brown door, nondescript in appearance. If you didn’t live there, it would have been easy to walk right past in favour of one of the others that looked exactly. The same.

“Ready?” he asked as he unlocked the door and paused with his hand around the handle. After giving it enough time for the question to settle, he pushed it open and revealed the apartment inside. “Come on in… feel free to set your stuff down wherever.”

All things considered, things could have been worse. He had cleaned a few days before, to there was no food sitting out, and things were pretty tidy. The lay out was pretty typical of an apartment like that; a kitchen next to the door when you walked in, a little dining room that doubled as a living room, and a door to a bathroom and a bedroom. Both doors were open, revealing their contents.

The kitchen was somewhat tidy, though there were a few empty beer bottles sitting out and an empty carton of eggs that he hadn’t thrown out yet. The living room had a couch and a chair facing a television, as well as a small table with two chairs off to the side. On the coffee table in the middle, there were a few books lying out; one was open on the table, put words down to save his place. His guitar sat in the corner on a stand. The bedroom was likely the messiest area, with his bed unmade and a few shirts lying on the floor. The bathroom was the cleanest, though - Matt hated dirty washrooms.

After taking off his shoes and jacket, he went into the kitchen and threw out the trash on the counter as quickly as he could. “Sorry about the mess…”

Thy shook hands. In an elevator, after getting way drunk together, and her riding in his car. Better late than never.

>>“Matías Morales. Does knowing your full name make me any less creepy?”

"Dunno. Is it your real name?" Sveta deadpanned. It was clearly a joke, but also ironic from someone like her, who entered the country under a false name to begin with. She was still not sure why she told him her real name either. She was still Effie to most strangers.

>>“I know the feeling. My younger sister is a lawyer now and my brother’s engaged. It moves fast if you don’t watch it closely.”

It really did. Sometimes it got better, and sometimes it got worse. Sveta still loved Bo with all her heart, even though she was convinced the annoying little brat would have gotten on her nerves if they lived together under normal circumstances.

They made it to she seventh floor, and to Matt's door. Sveta again felt a pang of curiosity. What was she walking into?

>>“Ready? Come on in… feel free to set your stuff down wherever.”

She walked inside and looked around. Typical New York apartment. Not as new as Haven, and not as old as some of the safe apartments she lived in in her vigilante days. Mostly, it reminded her of the place she shared with Jude for a while. But those were not very pleasant memories, not anymore.

Sveta shrugged out of her jacket, and took a seat on the couch.

>>“Sorry about the mess…”

"Oh please. Former punk from the streets, remember?" she ginned up at him. Really, his apartment was pretty tidy. And people's everyday clutter was not really a mess anyway. Plus, it wasn't like she gave him a heads up for the visit. "Relax. Not half bad for a surprise visit."

The apartment wasn’t anything special, but it was home to Matt. It had been for years, and he didn’t have anywhere else that deserved that title at that point. As a man who hated change who had had the rug pulled out from under his feet many times already, he was happy to cling to something constant. The apartment and his job recently had been constants; something to hold onto when he felt like the rest of his life was changing too much. Those constants had been people, once upon a time, but those people had either died or moved on. Things couldn’t do that.

All things considered, she really was lucky that his apartment was as tidy as it was. Matt felt like he could breathe a little easier once they were inside and he knew that things weren’t as bad as they might’ve been. If she had come a week ago, she likely would have had to move a few pizza boxes and socks in order to sit on the couch. It had been bad before he’d gotten his act together.

Still, there were a few things to straighten up. He had tossed out the things that were sitting empty on the countertop, and then he moved around the room, grabbing various items off the table and tossing them into his bedroom before he shut the door. She was a street rat, sure, but that didn’t mean that she necessarily wanted to sit in mess.

Letting out a breath, he finally joined her across the apartment in the living room, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch. It wasn’t as comfortable as it looked, but it had been on sale when he’d gotten it. It also clashed angrily with the pattern on the couch. For a second, he sat still, making the air slightly awkward. Was it weird that he’d invited her there? Was it weird that she was just sitting on his couch, waiting for him to do something?

Oh, right, the guitar.

In a sudden movement, as if he’d just remembered that he was meant to be doing it, Matt reached over and grabbed the guitar from the stand and slung it over his head. It wasn’t nearly as beat up as the first, but it was old. While it showed its age around the edges, it looked like it had been well cared for; well loved. That was something that could be said about many of the things that resided in Matt’s apartment.

“Right. Um, any requests?” he asked awkwardly. The air felt almost awkward. She was just sitting in his living room, waiting for him to play a song. He had stuff that he could play if she didn’t have requests, but it seemed weird to just go right into things.

Matt straightened up around the apartment. Sveta watched him move around. The apartment really fit him, in many ways, and he seemed at home in his surroundings; he might have been sorry about the mess, but he was not sorry about the place itself. It was cozy. Sveta unzipped her boots, and tucked her feet under her on the couch.

Finally, he took a seat, and there was a moment of awkward silence. Was he regretting bringing her here? Sveta tilted her head, and he finally figured out that she was here for a reason, allegedly, to listen to his music. So he picked up a well-loved guitar. Sveta once again felt genuine curiosity.

>>“Right. Um, any requests?”

"No" Sveta shook her head. She was not that well versed in music, and she would have felt awkward about picking what he should play anyway. She settled on the couch, resting her chin in her hand. "Just play whatever you like."

He had promised her a song on the guitar, and that was what he would give her. As weird as he may have made it by being silent for a while, he still intended to fulfill that promise. It felt strange to just dive right in, though, so instead he had started by asking if she had any requests; anything that she wanted to hear. That seemed like it would give her some sort of agency in the experience.

She didn’t want it, though. No requests. Just whatever he liked.

Matt had songs that he would default to when he was alone, but he didn’t often play for audiences anymore. There were things that he would play for his wife; with his wife, but he didn’t play those anymore. That left the songs that he had once known and would bring out at campfires or when people would request something from him. Those days felt like forever ago.

“Alright, here’s one,” he said simply, his fingers already moving along the fret as he strummed with a light hand. It wasn’t one that he had written, but it was an old one that he still remembered well. Soon enough, he was singing along with the guitar in the background. She had signed up for just the guitar aspect, but the two went hand in hand, whether she wanted that or not.

Matt, after some hesitation, began to play. Sveta settled on the couch; a part of her wished she had a drink, to feel less like an audience. She knew people felt awkward when put on the spot, even when they were not in public, so she tried not to just... sit and stare? It was not only the musician that could sense the tension in the little private performance.

She didn't know the song. It had a nice melody, and it was about as melancholic as she expected it to be... she doubted Matt would play something upbeat and funky for this performance. But in the end, it surprised her. Music had an effect on people, even when they did not expect it. And then Matt began to sing along, which surprised her even more. He was not tone deaf (thank God). He had a pleasant voice, and he played the song well too. Sveta, for lack of a better thing at hand, fidgeted with her gloves as she listened.

As soon as he started to sing, the room melted just a little. Matt was by no means a performer, but having nothing to focus on other than what sounds he was making was a calming thing. He didn’t notice as Svetlana played with her gloves in order to keep herself busy. In fact, his eyes were elsewhere entirely. They were off looking at the wall, lost, in a way, as he moved along with the song. It was hard to do anything else.

As the song came to a close, his hands rested on the guitar strings, playing the last chord in an absent arpeggio pattern. With an intake of breath, he was done, and as such, out of his trance. “And that’s that,” he said as he leaned back slightly in the chair and rested his arms on the top of his guitar. What else did one say after that? Usually when he played for someone, it was someone he knew well, and so there was nothing to say.

"I don't play for a lot of people anymore, so I apologize if I was rusty." That would cover it, probably. What else did he have to say?

Instead, he focused on something else entirely. “Sorry, I guess I forgot to ask - do you want a drink, or something? You hungry? I’ve got… well, I don’t really know, but you’re welcome to whatever,” he offered, nodding his head to the kitchen. If she said she wanted something, then he would go grab it for her. If not, then he would stay there.

At least Matt was not watching her while he played. That would have been awkward, and also entirely out of character: Circumstances and Chris aside, Sveta knew that he was not really doing this to impress her. She liked that. She also liked the music, and the way he played it, even though the cynic in her was muttering things about being mushy.

>>“And that’s that,”

He seemed to return to being aware of her, now that the song ended. Sveta did the same. She found that she would have enjoyed listening to more.

>>"I don't play for a lot of people anymore, so I apologize if I was rusty."

"No, it was... it was good." Sveta wanted to say something snappy, but really, she was off her game for the moment. Also, she didn't want to hurt him. "I liked it." Lame.

>>“Sorry, I guess I forgot to ask - do you want a drink, or something? You hungry? I’ve got… well, I don’t really know, but you’re welcome to whatever,”

"You have drinks here?" she arched an eyebrow. Based on how he handled alcohol last time, he either had to have a lot, or none at all. She watched him as he went to check. "So, you don't often have company over, huh..."

He hadn’t been playing to impress her, but having her say that she liked it wasn’t exactly unwelcome. Rolling his lips in as he glanced at her, he simply nodded with a bit of a smile at her comment. It was a thank-you in its own right.

He had more that he could play, but he wasn’t going to subject her to that right away unless she seemed interested. As much as he could pretend that he wasn’t getting a kick out of playing for someone again, he completely was. It was boosting his ego.

He was switching to the role of a good host by that point, so he lifted the guitar back over his head and let it rest back on the stand. With that, he stood up and walked into the kitchen, simply making an ‘uh’ sound as he glanced in the fridge. It was true, he didn’t host a lot. Sometimes he had some coworkers over, his siblings, or army friends when they were in town, but for the most part, he kept to himself. Plus, he hadn’t had any time to prepare for this.

“Honestly, no,” he said with a shake of his head as he glanced in the fridge. “Okay, I’ve got beer, water, orange juice, and some harder stuff in the top cabinet. If you’re hungry I can make something… hot dogs?” Yeah, his hosting skills were certainly lacking. Out of practice, maybe. “I’ve had Chris over once and the only thing she said was that I’m a sh** host. She’s probably right, huh?”

Honestly, Sveta would have liked to hear more music; she hoped that getting Matt to think of being a host would make it less awkward for the next performance. She was beginning to consider him somewhat of a friend, and friend did not pressure friends for spectacular hosting skills.

>>“Honestly, no. Okay, I’ve got beer, water, orange juice, and some harder stuff in the top cabinet. If you’re hungry I can make something… hot dogs?”

"Beer's fine" she smiled; she'd already gotten started on that anyway "But only if I don't have to drink alone."

>>“I’ve had Chris over once and the only thing she said was that I’m a sh** host. She’s probably right, huh?”

"You are doing just fine so far. You should have seen me a few weeks ago. I could have built my own apartment form takeout boxes." she chuckled, resting her elbows on the arm of the couch.

Svetlana was quickly working her way up to the coveted status of ‘drinking buddy’. Matt would say that, at this point, they were friends, but he didn’t usually offer to do this with his friends. He grabbed a bottle from the pack and then took a second for himself. No drinking alone that night; there were no rules stopping him at this point. He took both bottles over to the countertop and popped the tops off along the edge.

Walking back over, he held the beer out toward her and laughed just a little at her comment about her own apartment. Once she took it, he sat down on the couch next to her rather than the chair again. There wasn’t a guitar neck in the way this time.

Matt brought his beer to his lips and took a quick sip as he thought quietly for a minute. “You know, I don’t think I’ve met someone that I can be as honest with as I have with you,” he said, again, being honest. There were lots of people that he met and would spend time with if given the opportunity, but he actually wanted to be around Svetlana.

What was more was that she didn’t scare him so much. Lots of things used to scare him after his wife died. What else would go wrong if he hung onto something or got close to someone? With Svetlana, that didn’t seem to matter so much, since she’d seen just as many bad things as he had. It wasn’t entirely logical, but it felt like those might cancel each other out. Just maybe.

Two beers were opened. Sveta was secretly glad that they got to drink together again. Not that she was planning on getting drunk like last time, but alcohol worked wonders against awkwardness. Matt took a seat next to her on the couch, and Sveta shifted so that she could look at him. She clinked her glass to his before she drank.

>>“You know, I don’t think I’ve met someone that I can be as honest with as I have with you,”

"Right back at you" she admitted with a smirk "I guess it's hard to find people as messed up as we are." she chuckled. "I bet we could get drunk once more on the rest of the stuff we didn't get to the other night." Or maybe it was just her. Matt was a nice guy, he had been through a lot, but Sveta did not know how much of the special kind of crazy he had seen, the kind that came with mutants and vigilantes. Maybe he was better off that way. "But no, seriously. I'm glad we can talk."