"No, I don't intend to. I'm not easily swayed when I've made up my mind about something," the man explained, tightening his grip ever so slightly to make it clear she really wasn't going anywhere. At least not until he could meet her at an agreement somewhere. Where that agreement would be was still up in the air and her suggestion didn't exactly help after she turned down her remaining painting.
Michel cocked his head to the side. "You're sick." He would've agreed or dared to say that he could do more, but that wasn't a very good response. Or a natural one, as easy or possibly amusing as the follow through would've been for him. Then he got a better idea in his head. It was a really terrible idea and he was uncertain if he'd even bother following through with it himself. However, it was an idea. "But you're interested in music, aren't you?" It couldn't hurt to see what caught her interests other than the removal of her fingers and painting.