Joaquin couldn't help the thoughts that raced into his head- was he talking too much? Was he being too sentimental? It was hard for him to fully express how he felt about that area without rambling on and on. He felt like one of those little girls who gushed about how much they loved the Backstreet Boys. Were the Backstreet Boys still together? Who did little girls fawn over now? Why was he even thinking about that at a time like this? What he really needed to do was focus and not look like a complete space case, though he wasn't sure he hadn't come across that way already. He already knew damn well that he wasn't exactly giving off the I-know-what-I'm-doing vibe.
Part of him didn't even really want to sell the painting. He would, there was no question, but it was just one of those pieces he didn't really want to part with. When Joaquin first moved in to Pax Letale, he felt almost... trapped. He was undoubtedly pleasing his parents by settling down, but at the same time, he was saying goodbye to a part of his life he truly loved. He felt more at home there than he ever did in Kotzebue. Of course, the desert and the mountains and the Grand Canyon and all of it would be there whenever he could come back, but it was still an unsettling change. Painting that once he was in California... He'd just put so much into it. That's the point, dumbass. That's what made it good. He raised his glass to his lips and took a long drink.
"You like it?" Joaquin practically beamed, the hand not curled around a glass resting on his hip as he looked back toward the painting. In all honesty, he preferred the photograph- he had a print of it hanging on his living room wall. A good conversation piece, if he ever had company. So far he didn't have a lot of luck in that department. Not that it mattered. Dammit, Jim, I'm a painter, not a photographer.
Turning away from the painting to face Luc, Joaquin took another sip of scotch, silently considering his options. He thought about what Luc had been saying- these people all had money and he really, really needed to be a better businessman. Giving the best and most confident smile he could, he surprised himself by not even stammering. "It's eight hundred."