Despite her indignation over the can of ruined paint, his cheeky grin thrown in her direction saw her dissolve into giggles as she made her way towards him. It had always baffled her how serious (and dangerous) a subject he taught and yet he always seemed to have an air of unrelenting optimism that floated around him like a halo; perhaps it was that mass of dark red curls atop his head. More than once Irene had been reminded of Michaelangelo's cherubim when she saw the professor from afar and she'd fought the urge to paint his likeness into one of her canvases as a joke.

"Gus, this —" She pointed to her cheek (and the wrong one at that, but there were plenty more paint marks on her person to prove his point) with an incredulous look at him. "—would be considered an occupational hazard." She placed a hand on her hip as she came to a halt beside the chair and used it to lean against as she peered down at the bucket of paint. Her bucket of paint. "You could only be described as a liability, at the very least!"

Her fading displeasure at the mess he had made all but evaporated at the presentation of a rose; and her favorite color at that! She reached out a paint-streaked hand to take the stem from him and immediately raised the bloom to inhale its sweet scent. A tinge of blush flooded her cheeks at his compliment, and she smiled at him fondly from behind the petals. "Only you could mollify me enough to make me help you out of a mess that you created out of my ruined supplies!" With her free hand, she tossed him the towel on the chair, though, she thought with another glance at the mess, he would likely need a bit more assistance than that.

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