"Sure," Kieran said, still wracking his brain to try to remember the state the flat had been in this morning — hopefully it was only mildly messy, and didn't have random items of his clothing strewn about. (This was not due to any debauchery as much as it was due to Kieran being a bit of a mess.)
He grabbed his wand in his pocket and apparated them to the main room of the flat with a pop! Jude had been here before, but Kieran didn't think it had been for anything as lengthy as sitting for a painting — he was already regretting the impulse that had him asking. The flat wasn't too much of a mess; there was a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table (which was also the eating table, and there was half a loaf of bread there, too) that was mostly-finished and left open. Other than the assortment of empty bottles on the kitchen counter there wasn't much strewn about.
"Do you want tea or anything?" Kieran asked. He stepped away from Jude only so that he could walk over to the shoddy desk shoved in a corner of the room, and open the drawer to bring out a little wicker basket of oil paints. There was a blank canvass in the same drawer, rolled up, and he shoved it under his arm before he turned around. He'd committed now, it was too late to back out.
He grabbed his wand in his pocket and apparated them to the main room of the flat with a pop! Jude had been here before, but Kieran didn't think it had been for anything as lengthy as sitting for a painting — he was already regretting the impulse that had him asking. The flat wasn't too much of a mess; there was a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table (which was also the eating table, and there was half a loaf of bread there, too) that was mostly-finished and left open. Other than the assortment of empty bottles on the kitchen counter there wasn't much strewn about.
"Do you want tea or anything?" Kieran asked. He stepped away from Jude only so that he could walk over to the shoddy desk shoved in a corner of the room, and open the drawer to bring out a little wicker basket of oil paints. There was a blank canvass in the same drawer, rolled up, and he shoved it under his arm before he turned around. He'd committed now, it was too late to back out.