Unable to argue, because attempting to teach was just as new to her as painting was to him, Mabelle sighed tiredly and sat next to the chair. Maybe she could ask Dorian for advice, but then he'd probably try to take over and she didn't want somebody else involved. Because then Michel might call off the cello lessons, and it was actually something to look forward to. She didn't have much else to keep her going from one day to the next.
"What works best for you?" she asked, not even bothering to look up from her toes, wiggling them to make sure they still had feeling. While it was cold, her shoes were too small and uncomfortable to stand in for too long. She wasn't really looking forward to putting them back on to walk back to where she was staying, wondering if she could get away with staying overnight at the Louvre. "You're right. I don't know where to start, because I was expecting that you at least knew how to draw. Learning to paint is..." Mabelle trailed off, not really having the energy to lecture Michel on how difficult this was for her, as he was obviously having a difficult time as well.
"If you don't want to watch me," she assumed from his tone that he didn't, "and my explanations don't help you," and she didn't know if it was a failure on her part to communicate clearly or on his to actually listen, "I really don't know what else to do."