Oblivious to any discomfort at the intrusion or in his position, Tony poured over the drawings with enraptured dedication. Every new one he took in either brought a faint smile to his face or knit his brow in thought until finally he sat back on his heels with an arm stretched and hand still splayed over the open book. "Where did you study?" he questioned before he had properly thought it through, processed the man's accent and attire and regretted asking. His hand withdrew, quickly taking up his drink for Tony to watch the artists over the rim of the glass. Steven must have known what he meant by it.