the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
A long laugh leaves Nate, his head thrown back with mirth. "It takes a lot more than that to horrify me." He says warmly, not missing the glances around for his husband. "Not immediately. I wanted to come and offer my appreciation before we... get to it." Not to mention the various jobs, meetings, conversations they both need to have, together and separately. "I have a question for you too, but, it can wait a bit. Pleasure before business, huh?"
Though art wasn't necessarily Nate's idea of pleasure, he was willing to give it a chance. When in Rome, yadda yadda. Not whatever Bastien was doing though. His nonna had quilted, but nothing on the level of what the artist is doing. Pushing himself up, Nate strides along the shelves of supplies, waiting for something to call out to him. While he doesn't hear a call, per se, something does spark in his memory, and he searches again with more purpose, finally settling on a dark, gauzy paper that crinkles under his fingers as he grabs more sheets than he perhaps needs. Then he pauses, seems to consider, and grabs some plaster powder as well.
"I think I've got an idea." He brags smugly, setting his haul on a table and getting to work.
Though art wasn't necessarily Nate's idea of pleasure, he was willing to give it a chance. When in Rome, yadda yadda. Not whatever Bastien was doing though. His nonna had quilted, but nothing on the level of what the artist is doing. Pushing himself up, Nate strides along the shelves of supplies, waiting for something to call out to him. While he doesn't hear a call, per se, something does spark in his memory, and he searches again with more purpose, finally settling on a dark, gauzy paper that crinkles under his fingers as he grabs more sheets than he perhaps needs. Then he pauses, seems to consider, and grabs some plaster powder as well.
"I think I've got an idea." He brags smugly, setting his haul on a table and getting to work.
NATE
