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Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

He snorted. He knew better than to think there was zero chance of more mushy moments. They were surprisingly good at them. Although actual mush was spread out a little more in between the general friendship sentiments.

Of course Dean being Dean his mind also leapt to providing him an image of himself, Seamus and a toy in rather spectacular fashion. It gave him pause for a second and he shuddered through a head shake to clear his flash of the full colour image of the two of them sprawled out on Seamus' bed. "Point." His voice was a little croaky and faint. The image didn't do a huge amount for him at the moment, but it was still not the ideal time to have the thought.

"I've already been in for an hour," he said and shrugged. He was having a horrible time trying to work through his problems with his current project and had been alternating between frustrated time moving through various permutations and time spent painting the series of pieces he'd got in mind based on their mutual visit to Grenada in January. "Nothing that can't leave," he said, waving a careless hand. He could hang around for a while.