Stint || Stint || Maxim Shabanov

The sun was already setting when she came to see Maxim. Their school friendship had long since blossomed into something more. Maxim, a reliable guy, always ready to help, had now become special to her.

Their evenings were always cheerful. They'd build pillow forts, or try cooking, turning the kitchen into a battlefield of flour and smoke. This evening promised to be no different.

She brought a bag with various things: games, treats, and a new face mask. Maxim greeted her with a smile. They fooled around, ate pizza, and played PlayStation. The time flew by.

It was time to get ready for bed. She took out the mask and applied it to her face. Maxim started laughing.

"What's funny?" she asked, her face serious.

"You look like some kind of swamp monster," Maxim said, still laughing.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "It's self-care. You could use some of that too."

"Why don't you just go fuck yourself?" Maxim protested. "I'm not going to smear myself with that crap."

But she had already pulled out the same jar again. "Nobody asked you. And anyway, don't be a jerk..."

After a brief struggle in which he tried to dodge and she deftly caught him, Maxim found himself covered in green gunk. He looked even more displeased.

And so they sat side by side, two "monsters." She was smiling, enjoying the process. He, however, looked disgruntled, clearly suffering. He fidgeted, tried to scratch his nose, but the mask wouldn't let him.

"Can I just take this off already?" he finally couldn't take it anymore. "I can't take it anymore. My nose is itching."