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Matt didn't quite know what he had expected of that night. Well, really, he'd thrown his expectations out the window when that bodega got robbed, but beyond that, he didn't know what he had hoped would happen with his future with Sveta. He had been thinking of her with bated breath since the last time they'd seen each other, thinking that there was no way that she would ever forgive him for leaving without a trace. After that, well... he hadn't thought that far ahead until very recently.

It felt right to lean in, though - as if the year apart had been a fluke that was being righted by them running into each other again. It felt like kismet; as if the universe was giving them another chance to... well, make out on Matt's couch. And it wasn't like it hadn't been in the cards; from the second he realized that Sveta wasn't going to spend the rest of her life hating him, he had felt drawn, just like before. Just like when he'd thrown caution to the wind and decided that getting kidnapped didn't scare him so much.

Getting kidnapped did scare him, but there were many things in the world that scared him more, and he was willing to take the risk.

He'd forgotten while he was away what it was like for Sveta not to be able to touch anyone else at will. Matt had been subject to a year confined, which meant that there was minimal physical contact at all, much less something gentle, but it wasn't as if he had to worry about brushing hands with someone or running into them accidentally. For Sveta, it was a state of constant vigilance - she couldn't touch anyone else, even if she wanted to.

With Matt, it was different. His heart swelled a little bit at that knowledge - that he was different for her; that he was safe in some way, but he also knew that it wasn't something to take lightly. He could feel the way that she pressed into him; the way that she explored the novelty of intimacy in a way that wasn't a run-of-the-mill experience for her the same way it could be for others.

By the time they drew back for air, Matt had been lost for a few minutes. The world had stopped existing to him, and all that was left was that moment, where Sveta was back with him, and they were together. It wasn't something that he had planned for or expected, but it was the best kind of change.

With their foreheads pressed together, Matt allowed himself to breathe as his heart raced to keep up with what was happening. One hand ran the length of her back gently, while the other rested on the leg that she had strewn across his lap, entangling them in a way he wouldn't dare interrupt.

Sveta said nothing, and for a minute, neither did Matt. Instead, he let his mouth turn into a grin as he met her eyes. "You know, I'm really glad that bodega was robbed," he breathed, letting out a bit of a chuckle. Most of the time, he had no idea what he wanted, but he'd made a snap judgement a few minutes ago, and he'd make it again in a heartbeat. "I really missed you."

God, he wanted to kiss her again.

They were stuck in a cycle of not knowing how far to go or when to stop. Both of them had consistently circled around the idea of pushing any further, but stopped out of... what, fear? Shame? It was a dance that had ended abruptly a year earlier, and then continued to that night; a delicate line of wanting to step forward, but give the other enough space to take a step back at the same time.

Matt had pushed, though - perhaps before they were ready. He was the first to make a move; to take that step into cold waters again. It wasn't as if he wanted a face-eating snog if Sveta wasn't looking for something like that, but he'd hoped she would feel similar enough to reciprocate something.

He had given her the space to step back, though; perhaps because he was feeling like he was pushing her, or because she'd expressed her fears about moving forward. Space had been given, and he needed to respect that she'd taken it after all, even if it stung to feel the air shift with her movement. She deserved the choice to push him away again, and he had to accept that.

The thought that immediately plagued his mind was one of their next steps. In the second after she pulled away, a million scenarios flooded his brain - about how she might want to pull away entirely after him pushing too far, or how she might think it best if they moved on from one another. After all, there had never even been 'the two of them' in the first place.

His stomach sank, and he dared not open his eyes, so it came as a shock to him to feel her hands - her bare hands - buried in the tendrils and unruly curls. He opened his eyes for a second, just long enough to see her draw forward before their lips finally met. The thoughts that had weighed so heavily a second before seemed to slide as if on ice; unimportant, unmemorable. His hands saught her waist, pulling her into him like a missing piece of a puzzle.

His head was clear, like stepping from a dream. It was a new form of release that he hadn't allowed himself to have yet.

Maybe he was waiting for this all along.

The gloves on her hands felt strange against his skin, as he hadn't really prepared himself for them. He had forgotten, partly, what it was like for Sveta to walk through the world, unable to experience the simplest touch when she wanted to. A movement like grabbing someone's hand would have been simple for him, but much less so for her. He felt bad for a second for being so cavalier, and reminded himself that he needed to be more mindful when he was around her.

"That's good to hear. I... when you disappeared, I thought you just decided the danger was not worth it."

Maybe he should have run screaming, but there was something in him that didn't want to. He had wanted to for a brief moment at the bodega, before he knew that she didn't want to slit his throat for leaving without warning, but when it came down to it, leaving wasn't something he was interested in. There had been danger in his life before, and that didn't scare him. What did scare him was spending the rest of his life standing still out of fear of ever going too far.

"I didn't blame you. But I missed you."

The corners of his mouth turned up a little and he tilted his head, but didn't dare interrupt. It felt like she was bound to have a but in there somewhere.

"The danger is still there, though. You have to know that."

There it was. The 'but' that had nearly stopped them before, and that had led her to believe that he wanted nothing to do with her. "Sveta, I'm a first-hand example that you can spend your whole life in danger and still be screwed over by something small," Matt reminded. He'd been deployed, he'd been hunted by a strange organization a la Sveta, and he'd seen people close to him die. Yet, there he was, coming back from a stint in prison from something devoid of violence or the impending sense of danger.

"I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend my life paralyzed because of what might happen."

Life was a cyclical process; you were born, you lived, and then you died, and along the way, you would help others do the same. The cycle was ever-present and reflected through the little nuances of everyday life, like how Matt and Sveta were back talking about their pasts while drinking alcohol. There was a metaphor in that somewhere, Matt was sure.

"Thanks," Matt said as he took his glass from her and took a sip as he broke the chain of notes streaming from the guitar. The apartment felt much quieter when he wasn't playing, but if you listened closely enough, you could still hear the sirens from down the block.

She went over a little bit of her history again, though only very vaguely. He sensed that she didn't really want to go into it any more than that, and he understood - she had already told him a lot that first night they'd met, all that time ago. He nodded along silently, not wanting to push or jump in at all.

"My year... well, I dunno," he said with a sigh. Part of him thought he might be able to just leave it at 'prison' and move on forever, but he knew from when he returned from his deployments that burying things only meant that they would grow deeper roots. Pain had to be extracted and doused in a proper poison in order to be truly put to rest. "It wasn't great, honestly, but I suppose it could have been worse. I had good enough supports out here to make sure that I had something to come back to and that I wouldn't be screwed for the rest of my life.

"But I dunno. If I could take it back, I would. There's no doubt in my mind about that. Not every trauma that shapes a person needs to happen."

"Sure, play something."

"Okay, sure," Matt said with a quick nod of his head. He could pull something out of his back pocket, surely. Walking through the rows of boxes, Matt made his way to where his guitar was leaning up against a wall. He grabbed it and dusted off the top, noticing how well it fit into him; as though he was meant to always hold it.

Matt walked over to the couch, where Sveta and Moby were waiting patiently for him. "I'll just need a second to tune it. It's been a minute," he warned gently as he took a seat on the edge of the couch and began to tamper with the strings. It took longer than it usually would have for him to tune it since it was so disastrously out of sorts, but eventually, he was satisfied with the way the strings sat on the fretboard.

To begin, he ran his fingers through a scale in arpeggio before settling into an actual strum. It felt good to be sitting there like that again. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be back in control of the things that happened in his life and the way that things happened. He was back doing something that he had some sense of mastery over, in a situation that he could at least sort of make sense of. It was nice.

As he strummed gently, he fell into a soft song, letting it settle quietly in the little apartment.

Sveta had a long and rather interesting past, from what Matt remembered. He still had questions about what exactly she'd been through, but he knew that he didn't have the right to ask them. At least not right away. This year had been different for her, though, and she had gotten to experience doing some real good for a community. Matt smiled at that as he took a sip from his glass.

She got antsy, though, which is why she needed to occasionally don a mask and save people from robberies. It was doing good in a different way than with Haven, but it was still good, in the end. Plus, she had saved Matt a very awkward feeling of standing still during a robbery - not that he had been much help either way, but at least she had fixed the problem.

"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well," he mused. Time had been kind to that aspect, at least. "Did stopping those robbers scratch the itch, then, or do you need to punch something else tonight? I mean, you can take out your feelings on the couch over there if you need to."

He turned slightly to look around. It wasn't much to offer for entertainment or hosting, but he did have a few tricks up his sleeve, in the very least. "Okay, I provided alcohol, but are you sure you're not hungry?"

Moby took to Sveta immediately, collapsing at her feet with a pathetic whimper for her affection. The dog was a big suck, really. So much for German Shepherds being good guard dogs; Moby would probably help intruders sniff out any valuables. Not that Matt really had any, anyway.

"Right, you're still with Haven," Matt recounted with a nod, piecing together few days that they had spent together over a year before. She was a bigshot with a big office in a big building, despite the almost punk appearance she gave off when she was running around town in a vigilante mask. "What have you guys been doing these days? Still... um... mutant pr?" That sounded... somewhat right. Matt really couldn't remember what Haven did, anyway - just that some rich kid walked around as the boss.

Sveta drew his attention back to Moby, who was preoccupied with someone paying attention to him. "I think he's still in the process of forgiving me for it. My sister took him in for a while, which wasn't ideal for either of them, and, oh, shit," Matt let out a groan as he stepped into the kitchen. "I was supposed to pick up dog food."

At least Sveta hadn't admitted to things changing in her life, Matt mused silently as he searched through the fridge for something he could give Moby that was safe for a dog. He pulled out some carrots and stuck them in a dish which he set out on the floor. It was only a few seconds delay before Moby had found it and stuck his head in.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, turning to Sveta.